Week 2: Monterey, Santa Barbara, Santa Monica, San Dieg

This week (29/08/2011) Caitlin and I went on vacation to San Diego, which is on the southern tip of California, bordering Mexico. We took Highway 1, which follows all the way down the coast of California, making for stunning views of the cliffs against the Pacific Ocean.

For a sense of scale, the road we took is about 595 miles long, and John O’Groats to Lands End is about 605 miles (in a straight line). Yes we are a small country but we have nukes too, and we decide what time it is everywhere, so WE decide when you go to lunch Mr. USA.

The road itself gives views such as –

And for about 200 miles I got to drive it, which is extra special for me as I only passed my driving test a few weeks ago. Although it was the English test, so I was driving on an unfamiliar side of the road in an unfamiliar side of the car on cliff edges with no safety barrier. You’d never get away with that in England, no barrier on a cliff road, the health and safety police would be on that like a... rockslide.

Also there were signs warning of rock slides. I have no idea what the purpose of those signs are, as if there is anything I would or could possibly do differently having acknowledged the sign. No matter, on with the road trip!

Monday we put the cats in the fridge (to keep them fresh) and drove to Monterey (B on the top map). Monterey is another coastal city, but very quiet and serene.  

That evening Caitlin and I walked down to the pier, which contained the usual overpriced waterfront nonsense such as lamps with seashells glued to them, picture frames with seashells glued to them, and seashells with seashells glued to them.

-with googly eyes, 500% profit margin, BAM!

Which, coming from a seaside town myself, naturally made me rather homesick.

However that night we found an amazing restaurant called ‘1833’, which had only been open for two months, and it was just what I needed. We ordered a pizza that brought tears to my eyes it was so beautiful:  lamb sausage, feta and roasted garlic.  The waiter told us the restaurant was originally a pharmacy (built in 1833), and run by a man who decided to call himself a pharmacist (with no qualifications) and who was so incompetent that most of his patients died under his care. The pharmacist later decided to call himself a doctor and lost even more patients, including the town’s mayor.  The ghosts still haunt the restaurant to this day....

Or something, I was busy eating.

Tuesday we drove to Big Sur, a National Park on the way to our destination, which covers roughly 4 square kilometres, which is popular for its massive redwoods.

Caitlin didn’t have the proper footwear, but we proceeded bravely on up the valley. We took an hour round-trip hike to Pfeiffer Falls, enjoying the valley views and exotic wildlife.

Left: a gorgeous blue bird I can’t be bothered to look up

Right: a hair scrunchie that Caitlin was certain was a snake skin

That evening we arrived at Santa Barbara (C on the top map), another coast city, and ate dinner on the harbour.

There isn’t much for me to write about Santa Barbara, as it was only somewhere to sleep on our way down the coast.  Although we did watch Top Gun in the hotel room, which absolutely counts as an authentic American experience. Danger Zoooooooooooooooone!

Wednesday we drove to Santa Monica, on the coast of Los Angeles (D on the top map), where we sunbathed next to the pier. And by sunbathed I mean I burned the back of my lily white British legs. The pier itself had an amusement park built around it which again reminded me of Southend.

Try to spot the ape dancing for tips, in the black tracksuit, in blistering temperatures.

Also Santa Monica’s pier also had a trapeze school, because...

Just because.

Afterwards we continued down the coast to San Diego, our destination (E on the map).  We met up with Danielle in Old Town San Diego for some very authentic Mexican food. And I mean that literally San Diego used to be part of Mexico, and certainly feels like it. If you got black out drunk on margaritas and bought souvenirs in Old Town, it would be very easy to convince yourself that you had crossed the border.

Thursday we spent enjoying the resort. It was a resort in a very literal sense, tennis courts, spa, three pools, and a harbour, all hanging out on its own peninsula.

We got a free room upgrade to be able to see the harbour from our terrace.

With optional gondola rides. Seriously.

I sat by the pool reading and drinking Mojitos all day.

That reminds me, I spied something I would very likely never see in England, a couple pushing a little white dog around in a baby-stroller. At a holiday resort. Talking to it. By the Adults Only pool. Both of them looking concerned, I can only imagine what they were thinking.

Her: I wonder if dogs need sun-screen...

Him: I wonder how much sun-screen I would have to consume to kill myself...

Although one extra cool addition was that the resort was right by Naval Amphibious Base Coronado, which meant that the resort also got free military air shows as they were training. Also for some reason one the buildings in the base are shaped like a swastika.

Busted, Jerry!

Friday we checked out of the hotel (after breakfast and piña coladas) and drove to meet Danielle at Del Mar beach, a little north of the resort where I picnicked and panicked about three recent great white shark sightings. However, I decided to face down Jaws and braved a play in the Pacific Ocean.

That evening was a real treat as Caitlin and I went to Balboa Park, which contains San Diego Zoo as well as multiple museums, galleries, gardens and theatres.

Two over the shoulder shots in one blog, touché Caitlin

Our particular target was The Old Globe theatre, where we watched an open air production of Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing, and I pretended to understand everything that was being said because it’s our language, damn it! It was absolutely brilliant, hilarious and a perfect ending to our vacation.

In some ways, I am Shakespeare in America.

Okay, in every way.

Saturday Caitlin drove us back from San Diego to San Francisco, using the much straighter Highway 5, which runs for hundreds of miles through dry yellow hills, which took eight hours. It was long, but we listened to Kenny Loggins so it was all okay. ROAD TRIP MONTAGE!

More next week campers! Danger Zooooooooone!