LOST IN PEBBLE BEACH – July 18
The Villa de Shelly was nice but the breakfast nook was rash-inducing. When you hear that breakfast is included in the stay, you are pleased with your frugal find and your looming food budget savings. But after spending several mornings with the turn-key Frosted Flake dispensers, passing up the bulging bowls of hard boiled eggs, and pouring medicine-cup sized batter into the handy-dandy flipping Belgium waffle makers, it starts to get a little old. I’m sounding spoiled, I realize (and I feel a little guilty about that) but the piercing alarm beeps associated with the waffle baking cycles at this particular hotel were sharper to the ear than any fire alarm, intravenous infusion pump or McDonald’s French fry siren I've ever experienced. It was positively deafening, driving Isaac and his half-banana out onto the ledge of the Villa de Shelly prematurely. Or maybe he was trying to put some distance between himself and his family because all this togetherness is becoming a chore.
After breakfast we drove to Carmel-by-the-Sea, an adorable little seaside town. There were quaint shops, art galleries, and fabulous well-kept cottages skirting the white sandy beach.
To the right of the beach we could see the greens of Pebble Beach golf courses right against the sea cliffs.
We paid a toll to drive up through Pebble Beach. The road signs were confusing to say the least, the streets cutting paths between expensive homes, golf courses, and on the most scenic route, bordering the sea. Looking at all that green grass right up next to the ocean, I wonder how many golf balls have been lost at sea.
Though I appreciate being able to see the dark birds against a lighter background, the large sea rocks that have become completely white with guano are more than a little gross.
There is a large cypress tree in Pebble Beach named Charles Crocker. I get that this guy was some famous tycoon and important somehow to the area. But is it somehow an honor to have a tree named after you? I must be missing something.
And speaking of cypress trees, we stopped to see the legendary “Lone Cypress”.
This tree is such a big deal, they’ve made it part of the Pebble Beach marketing and built a little stone wall around it. It’s a cypress tree, and it’s alone. So what’s the attraction? I’m telling you, it looks just like any other cypress tree in California. The 17 mile scenic drive through Pebble Beach proved too much for us.
After the Lone Cypress, things deteriorated quickly and we started realizing we were all turned around on our silly little map. It felt like we were stuck in a Pebble Beach sand trap. We had seen enough and wanted out but we were lost in a maze. After much consternation and trying to cue the handheld navigational tools within our possession, we finally found route 1 again and dragged our road-weary selves to the Point Pinos Lighthouse.
There was a slight detour for some ocean rock climbing in Point Pinos. While my family was climbing, I was accidentally attracting sea gulls. This big fella landed squarely on the hood of the car and looked at me in hopeful expectancy. He thought I might share one of the M&Ms upon which I was snacking. (It’s always wiser to pull out the chocolate when your family is off climbing rocks.) After some inner deliberation, I did opt to launch a multigrain cracker as far out the window as I could fling it in order to get him off the car before he added his own white adornments to the hood. My family mercifully returned before the beggar had a chance to return to the scene and fly into the open SUV window. (Jim had the keys...)
Point Pinos Lighthouse was under renovation so this is as close as we got.
Monterey Bay Aquarium was definitely the nicest aquarium I’ve ever visited. But there were WAY too many people who had the same idea today.
Touching starfish and bat rays was fun. The bat rays steered a clear path away from poor Jim and would not allow him to get his fingers near enough to reach them.
It was mesmerizing to watch the jellyfish swim. The elegant jellyfish and the dainty seahorses were my favorites.
This enormous fish caught everyone by surprise when it swam by the large tank window. I have no idea what it is. Not to disrespect the fish, but his weight alone could make enough fish sticks to feed several small villages.
Jim and Aubrey had a captivating close encounter with a penguin. I surprised Aubrey with a stuffed penguin on the Santa Monica pier earlier this week. It happened to be in her backpack when we were at the aquarium. She decided to introduce the real penguin to his stuffed counterpart. Through the glass, the penguin was immediately intrigued by this smaller fuzzy newcomer. Aubrey shot a great little video of the encounter and I’m hoping the link below works so you can see what I mean.
It was inconceivable to me that thousands of anchovies can spend their entire lives swimming in one direction in their compact tubular tank. It was like a shimmering merry-go-round of fishy silver going by (and at a pretty rapid clip.) But I guess swimming in circles at an aquarium is preferable to resting atop the cheese on somebody's pizza.
The speedy murres flying through the fishy water of the large tank were so fast it was impossible to capture a picture. They look like small penguins but are speedy beyond imagination and are masterful swimmers, flapping their wings and zooming through the water, zipping around all manner of fish as though everyone else was standing still.
Isaac enjoyed watching the schools of fish swim by in the large tank but was more delighted when we left the crowds of the aquarium behind to go find some lunch. We ate on the patio at First Awakenings where forward pigeons paced around our table, hoping for some generosity.
The sound of Pop Rocks sizzled from Isaac and Aubrey in the back seat on the drive to Capitola. This was a cute little place but we only stayed for a few minutes before continuing our drive north.
Drove on to Natural Bridges State Beach and gave a final salute to the beaches of California. With the sand blowing directly in our faces, we trekked down the beach, barely pausing to admire the huge bridge-shaped rock in the sea.
There were flat sandstone (and other) rocks along the far side of the beach (which of course to certain male persons in our party meant MORE CLIMBING.)
Continued on to Santa Cruz Boardwalk, which was sadly not a boardwalk at all, but a long cement portion covered in amusement park rides and unhealthy food selections.
Because we haven’t done enough traveling, we rode the Sky ride down to the other end of the park. A distant lighthouse was the point at which I chose to fasten my gaze as it was a lot nicer to look at than the alternative (looking down and seeing my life flash before me in the form of a fall to the very hard concrete slab so very far below.)
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| Aubrey ate a deep fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich (with powdered sugar and a side of dipping chocolate, no less.) |
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| Not to be outdone, Isaac ingested a glazed donut nearly the size of his head. Boardwalk nutrition at its finest. |
Walked the wharf where locals were catching mackerel and harbor seals were barking beneath the pier. We spotted a second lighthouse from the Santa Cruz wharf (which was also disappointingly paved in blacktop.)
It seemed surreal that only ten minutes from the beach we entered the serpentine roads through the Henry Cowell State Park redwood forest. Route 9 north was almost magical. We found our hotel and it was positively adorable, the chilly pool area delightfully adorned with roses and tucked right into the middle of a redwood forest. Doesn't get any better than that.
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