My Californian trip of a lifetime — along with every other millennial

“Hey,” read the Instagram message. “You’re in Calistoga? So are we! Fancy meeting up?” It came from an old university classmate, a nice guy whom I liked but, London being London, hadn’t seen in 18 months.

In fact we weren’t in Calistoga —my boyfriend and I had left the folksy wine town, a stop on our much-planned Californian Trip of a Lifetime, the day before and were already halfway to Yosemite. Still, I remarked, as we drove through the impossibly vast landscape, what were the odds? All in all, pretty slim.

Or were they? Two days later, an acquaintance’s tweet caught my eye. He too had been at Yosemite and had recently left the seaside town to which we were heading; after a little casual online stalking, it became apparent he was doing the very same road trip as us but in reverse.

He wasn’t the only one. Not long afterwards I noticed a friend’s post on Facebook. There she was, walking down a road in Big Sur — the very same we’d walked down not long before. Not only that but – could it REALLY be true? — she was wearing the exact & Other Stories dress I had in my suitcase.

Astonishing — or so I thought, until I came across a news article saying that demand for Californian road trips was booming among millennials such as myself. How naïve, assuming that my holiday was something I’d independently chosen when in fact it was merely a function of my age and demographics.

I admit I was a little miffed.

Unlike the rest of the year when bosses, friends and your diary determine your days, holidays are the one time the pace is set by you. But should I really have been surprised? After all, if recent revelations about online ad targeting have taught us anything, it’s that we’re all algorithms now.

Sometimes flaws are just perfect

Algorithm or not, while eating out in LA I noticed an intriguing trend. One restaurant, fêted by critics, didn’t serve booze. Another had no phone or internet — making ordering a cab home impossible. A third refused payments in cash.

At first these flaws were irritating, flies in the ointment. Until I realised they’d given my boyfriend and me something to talk about for hours on end. Might they be deliberate?

They brought to mind a truism uttered by radio psychiatrist Frasier Crane in the sitcom Frasier. “What,” he says to his brother Niles, “is the one thing better than an exquisite meal? An exquisite meal with one tiny flaw we can pick at all night.”

It’s love all, ladies, on Centre Court

It isn’t only the England football team offering a new model of sportsmanship. Watching the Ladies’ final at Wimbledon, I initially cheered for Serena Williams but who could begrudge Angelique Kerber ? It wasn’t just the German’s precise play, it was her speech on collecting the trophy in which she hailed Williams as “a champion” and an “inspiration” for returning, just 10 months after she nearly died following childbirth, to take the tournament by storm.

Her graciousness was matched by Williams who, at the end, gave Kerber a hug of genuine affection. She praised her

as “an incredible person” and “a really good friend”. There was barely a dry eye in the house. Here were two athletes at the top of their game, supporting one another with real sincerity. The smashed rackets and spats of yore couldn’t have seemed further away.

Cottage cheese’s day has come at last

Your next culinary obsession: cottage cheese. Or so says The New York Times, which reports that its days of “languishing in yogurt’s shadow” are over.

This is something I’ve known for some time, having once picked up a tub of Longley Farm’s full-fat offering (NB: never buy the fat-free one). It is quite simply the dairy world’s equivalent of crack cocaine: creamy and savoury and a million miles away from the acidic supermarket stuff I’d encountered.

I know I’m not the only closet devotee, since every time my regular dealer stocks up, it sells out immediately. London — you have been warned.