Every time we talk to El Jefe, he asks how we’re eating. I normally just shrug because I know there is food going into our mouths at some points along the way, but to be completely honest, I couldn’t remember most of it. Notable exceptions: Blue Bayou and Whataburger. And now, In-N-Out.
YUM.
I lost my beloved sunglasses in Disneyland, so Day 15 became about 2 things: Driving and replacing said beloved sunglasses.
We’d originally planned to head up the PCH from L.A. to San Francisco. When Earl’s love of National Parks started to blossom, I decided, no, we’d head up through Sequoia and Yosemite instead. After all, the super helpful ranger at The Grand Canyon sold us on the annual National Parks pass, so free admission. Woo!
Then came the day to drive and the realization that, oh wait, we have to be in X location by Y date and that does not allow for Z drive time through Yosemite.
To the Pacific Coast Highway!
We were still on total overload from the previous three days of our La-La Land adventure. I can’t say we talked very much—we were both decompressing in our own ways, I think. I found an REI in Ventura and got new sunnies, then we stopped by In-N-Out for a healthy lunch of burgers and fries.
Earl said, “These hamburgers are huge!” And she was pretty much right.
I don’t know why our drive up the coast took so long. Maybe we got started later than I remembered. Maybe it took us that long to get out of L.A. Maybe I was still in such a fog that we were abducted by aliens leftover from Roswell and they flashy-thinged me. Or maybe I was just too involved looking at the scenery to pay attention to whatever was slowing us down. Who knows.
At 6 pm, we were only half-way up PCH, and the driver needed a break. We weren’t far from Hearst Castle, and their website talked about evening tours, so we decided we’d pop in for a visit, then perhaps make it at least as far as Monterey.
Ha.
Hearst had already stopped selling tickets for the day. Evening tours are only certain days, and Monday wasn’t one of them. Oops. By then, though, Earl had done enough reading about it that she wanted to go, so we opted to find a motel in San Simeon and hit Hearst first thing in the morning.
There’s not much to choose from in San Simeon and even less was actually available. I dunno, it’s summer or something, apparently. It was either expensive or completely run down. And while run down has its road trip charms, the crowd around that particular motel did not, so the Best Western it was.
Added bonus: the Best Western had beach access.
Double added bonus: It was golden hour with sunset rapidly approaching.
Triple added bonus: Earl’s face when I told her we were going for a walk on the beach.
It was cold, but so unbelievably beautiful.
Earl ran in and out of the (very cold) tide, collecting rocks and marveling at the size of the breakers. The tide was coming in, and temps dropped with the sun. After a half hour, it was with great sadness she suggested perhaps it was time to go in.
We made an early night of it, lounging in our jammies with a little room service from the restaurant downstairs. There was no delivery fee, no extra room service charges, the lady at the desk had told me when we checked in. “Same price to eat in your room as to down to the restaurant, so why not, right?” she’d smiled.
Why not, indeed.
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