 |
| Carmel beach |
Coastal California has been fairly well mythologised over the years - the mere mention of Big Sur, Monterey or Santa Cruz evokes hazy visions of sun-dappled semi-paradises where the surf is high and so are most of the people. If I wasn't as excited about this part of our trip as I was about San Francisco or Las Vegas, not forgetting the Grand Canyon (status pending), it was almost solely down to The Thrills, whose jangle-pop dirges "inspired" by the area sapped the life out of my ears a decade or so ago. It's hard to credit how such a stunning environment could possibly inspire such tepid music, but basically Brian Wilson - often imitated, never remotely bettered - has a lot to answer for.
 |
| Another unfeasibly bourgeois Carmel shopping arcade |
Thanks to Yosemite being closed, we were able to see a lot more of this region than originally planned. First stop was Carmel, whose official name of Carmel-by-the-Sea better reflects its picture-book nature. A grid of perfect streets set on the side of a hill, filled up incredibly tastefully with the sort of shops that, if you have to pause to consider whether you're posh enough to enter then you're definitely not, leads down to an impeccably clean beachfront. A true bourgeois haven (apparently all of the houses are known by name only, numbers presumably being far too proletarian), I can see why class warrior types would absolutely despise it, but to be honest it stripped me of my usual sneering cynicism and made me desperately want to be rich enough to follow in the footsteps of most of its inhabitants and retire there. Sigh.
From our base in Monterey, we then took the motor out for a little jaunt down Highway 1, aka like, seriously dude, the most awesome road ever. It's possible to drive the Pacific Coast Highway all the way from San Francisco to LA, but just the tiny section we covered winds its way along the wild, rocky coast through redwood forests and over mountains. The journey is the attraction here - it's a single-lane road all the way with parking spots generously scattered throughout the route at the better viewpoints. Instead of service stations and drive thrus there are the state parks of Big Sur (all still open, unlike the national parks - hurrah!) from which you can hike the trails for some even more stunning views.
 |
| Top of Buzzard's Roost trail (buzzards out of shot) |
The main thing you take away from this is that nature is a pretty brutal beast. These are not beaches to sit and chillax at, what with all those monster waves smashing against the coastal rocks. Meanwhile the redwood and sequioa trees are more enormous than anything back home. It's a side of America you don't really think about and that some of the California mythology seems to play down, which is a shame really. Embrace the massive chaos.
 |
| A still-impressive Big Sur waterfall (better in earlier months apparently) |
On the way back we partook of 17-Mile Drive, which neatly combines the main thrusts of the last few paragraphs in such a way that almost makes it look like I made our whole itinerary up (if only I were so clever). Basically it's a large loop that includes not just the legendary Pebble Beach golf course but what seems like 20 others, plus plenty more thrilling coastal vistas and a whole lot more exclusive residences. Oh, and you have to pay 10 dollars for the privilege of driving it. Such a sum in exchange for such landscapes is not much in the great scheme of things, except for the fact that Highway 1 is completely free of charge and even sexier. Still, I'm sure all the Drive's 1%-er residents make some much-needed income from the rest of us in order to help fund their mansion repairs. Hmm, remind me what I said about class warriors earlier?
 |
| Poor lonely tree |
Monterey itself is a little less affluent, offering luxury hotels and fine seafood restaurants alongside the cheesier, novelty shop end of the tourist spectrum. Cannery Row, the main seafront thoroughfare, obviously takes its name from the fish and seafood packing industry which was rampant there until people finally twigged that they'd gone and caught nearly all the fish, thus crippling populations for generations to come. D'oh. Tourism has more than filled the void now, though the little information boards detailing the town's former lifestyle are often quite poignant.
 |
| Hey (hey) you (you) get offa my shoe |
Cannery Row sort of acts as Monterey's only museum, with much of the old architecture of the factories and warehouses remaining intact. The overhead walkways lend this area a real character. However, this touristy part of town is almost completely separate from the downtown and residential areas, as though the residents are keeping themselves at arms' length.
The main attraction is undoubtedly the huge aquarium, which does a particularly good job of catering for kids with loads of games and gadgets for them to play with if they get bored of looking at the vast array of creatures (although why would they?). It also plays a crucial role in conserving and regenerating marine life, whilst urging us to play our part by offering lists of endangered species which none of us should really be ordering for dinner anytime soon.
 |
| Cannery Row |
We walked the three miles or so up the coast from our hotel last night to find a good place to watch the sun go down (on Sunset Avenue, as it happens. What are the chances?). As is often the case, this idea was better in theory than in practice, as this being America the pavements and streetlights stopped long before the roads did. Still, we muddled through, and not only managed to overcome any tribulations without dying but also enjoyed a lovely sunset experience. There's probably some kind of metaphor for our entire trip in there somewhere.
Comments