This past week, I was in San Francisco for work. At the end of a very long five days, I opted to stay the weekend to recharge before heading back to Austin. As you may recall, the last time I did this, I rented a car and drove north on California Highway 1. This time, I decided to point the nose of my rental car south to Monterey and Carmel.
I set an alarm to get me up at an early hour to shower and get ready before hopping on the BART to take me to the airport where I picked up my car. I headed over 92 to Half Moon Bay. As seems to be typical for me, there was a ridiculous amount of traffic on 92 heading over the coastal mountains. However, the drive over was scenic – full of hillscapes and cute little pockets of civilization. There are a number of plant nurseries along the road and the smell coming through my open window was an amazing perfume of flowers, redwoods, and ocean air (minus the weird fishy smell that ocean air can contain).
Half Moon Bay was hardly a speck on the map before I started rolling south through a beautiful stretch similar to that of Highway 1 up north. I stopped at random viewpoints to drink in the scenery and clutch my hoodie around me in the bracing wind (really, when will I ever learn that I need to bring warmer clothes with me to California?). After a lovely hour or so, I hit Santa Cruz – a funky beach town that looked like it would be fun to explore. But with so much to see and so little time, I regretfully drove right through.
But then, after Santa Cruz, Highway 1 turned into a legitimate highway. I was dismayed that I no longer hugged the coast. Instead of seaside cliffs and rolling breakers, I was gazing at bumpers and slow-moving semis. I made it to Monterey much faster than expected since I was driving 65-70 rather than a meandering 35-40.
Monterey was packed with families. The beautiful weather must have inspired more people than I thought. The Cannery Row was fun to drive through but since I’m not really one to poke around in shops, it head little literary allure for me now. It’s definitely cleaned up and not what Steinbeck described back in the day. I did drive by the Aquarium. That looks like an amazing spot to stop when it wasn’t jammed with Father’s Day sightseers.
I continued along the scenic drive along the water’s edge in Monterey, stopping when I could find an open parking spot. The fog still hadn’t quite burned off yet and I ended up alternating between foggy overcast and bright sunny skies within seconds.
At the end of the scenic drive in Monterey, I realized that I was only a few minutes from an entrance of the fabled 17-Mile Drive. Although I’m not really a golfer, I decided to plunk down the $10 entrance fee and see what the fuss was about. The drive takes you past some gorgeous cliffsides spilling into the surf. I got to watch otters and seals frolicking. Despite the rampant materialism of a place that makes visitors pay for the privilege of driving through, it was money well spent. Of course, there were quite a bit of people along the drive and especially at the main Pebble Beach Lodge stop. I wandered down to the viewing area of the 18th green and just admired how relaxing it was, in spite of the fact that there were probably a good 100 other people on the lawn with me.
By this point, it was getting close to 5pm and not having had anything to eat all day, I decided to skip the super expensive Pebble Beach options for the slightly less expensive Carmel options. Of course, Apple Maps took me a weird back way into Carmel and then once I was there, found it nearly impossible to find a parking spot. By the time that I did, I was well away from my original dining choice. I walked a few blocks and found a little Italian restaurant that looked promising and even had a table open for me, but after I waited over 5 minutes and still didn’t have any server stop by my table to even drop off water, I walked out the door. (I have a 5-minute rule. There’s no excuse for not even getting water and a server saying I’ll be right back. I would wait much longer if I was acknowledged.)
So I ended up at a place I had passed by earlier. The food was decent but the service was better than expected based on my first foray. Sufficiently full and not so cranky, I realized that it was too late for me to get to Big Sur and do it justice. The next time…
I took the less scenic but quicker route back to SFO to drop off my car. By 9:30pm, I was back on BART heading into downtown. Although my little road trip wasn’t nearly as magical as the one I took earlier in the year, I’m glad I took the day to just wander and explore.