To Lewis and other farmers, visits by Oakes' van are an opportunity for some public relations. "You hear so much about agriculture raping our resources and polluting our streams," he said. "It's not all like that. In every industry, there are always rogues like Enron. But most of us are true husbanders of the soil."
Farmers learn from tourists, too. After making numerous references to what "the housewife" finds appealing about strawberries, Lewis was confronted by Frances Shaffi, a real estate developer from Monterey. "I'm going to gag," she said, barely able to contain herself. "The correct term is consumers, not housewives."
Oakes, who wears an enamel artichoke pin on his left lapel, specializes in viticulture, or wine grapes. He subsidizes his agricultural tours with trips to more mainstream destinations like Hearst Castle and Salinas Valley wineries. A former assistant farm advisor with the Monterey County Agricultural Center in Salinas, he now consults with the University of California. Five years ago, he realized that preaching to the unconverted might be more satisfying than "standing out in the middle of fields taking soil samples and counting aphid colonies on lettuce plants."
Agricultural tourism, he notes, is much more highly developed in Europe, especially in Italy, where rural tourism is seen as a way of maintaining the heritage of villages and revitalizing their economy.
Whether people will come to share his passion for the life cycle of broccoli is an open question. "People don't know where their food comes from," he said. "Here, they see it."
Meanwhile, the living embodiment of everything you always wanted to know about farm scenery but were afraid to ask rolls on, cartons of strawberries teetering on the dashboard.
"Is that mustard?" asked Shaffi, eyeing a fleeting field of yellow flowers.
"Weeds," Oakes replied.



