The mood in California was apologetic. Most people we met seemed embarrassed that their country’s dirty laundry was being aired quite so publicly. Hillary or the Donald? It will have to be Hillary, they sighed. Few seemed stirred by the prospect, but it was hard to avoid the subject. In Half Moon Bay in San Mateo county, we stayed at the Ritz-Carlton, perched on top of the cliffs. While salty mist drifted across the Pacific and pods of whales floated by, the second presidential TV debate rumbled on in the hotel bar. As the two candidates sparred, guests tut-tutted over their gin fizzes and tried not to look entertained.
It was pumpkin season and the fields were dotted with swollen, pimply gourds. A 2,000lb beast had been brought in by truck and crane, and the coastal roads were jammed up with locals coming to see it. Smaller pumpkins had been carved and placed on verandas while ‘Trumpkins’ — with angry, orange faces and pale, pithy hair — joined the line-up of ghouls and other ghastlies.
During a hike in the sugar pine forest around Lake Tahoe — a lake so clean you can drink straight from it — our thirtysomething guide explained why he would be voting for the first time for the libertarian candidate, Gary Johnson. He wanted what was best for America, and thought that neither the Republicans nor the Democrats were offering that this time round. Many of his friends would be doing the same, he added, before moving on to a story about the black bear he once spotted hiding between the aspen trees.
Down in Silicon Valley, Google’s driverless cars were being tested on the roads. In the Stanford shopping centre in Palo Alto, Tesla’s electric cars — which can accelerate, brake and steer by themselves — were available to buy.

Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in