So much for 'I left my heart in San Francisco', I think I left little bits of mine dotted all the way down the west coast. On leaving Shell Beach, we broke from Highway 1 for the first time since Santa Cruz and cut across to the 101; a very different, but equally beautiful road. In place of the continuous coastline are miles of undulating fields; growing everything from corn to strawberries. We stopped briefly in the lovely little village of Los Olivos, where we mooched through the sleepy and roastingly-hot streets, pottered around beautiful shops and drank iced tea in the shade. That night we stayed in a canvas, safari tent near a canyon. It was magical. We spent the evening barbequeing over a fire pit (expertly built and lit by the Ginge) and chatting away as darkness fell over the camp. It was a welcome return to nature and wildness, which I had missed earlier in the trip and gave me a great opportunity to teach the Ginge how to make smores. Needless to say, he is now a total convert!
Sunday, 23 September 2012
Sunday, 2 September 2012
It's not often that I fall in love with somewhere so entirely, so quickly, but Shell Beach is pretty special. We actually only stayed there for one night, albeit on the vehement recommendation of some friends, but I did in fact cry on leaving. What a loser! We stayed in the most perfect little hotel, run by the loveliest people who made us feel as though we were at home (so welcome after nearly two weeks on the road) and did nothing but swim in the pool, walk along the coast in the sunset and then have dinner at the most beautiful restaurant that was pretty much all window, overlooking the ocean. It was a dream. It also introduced me to an amazing flavour combination - homemade tortillas with cinnamon butter. Oh my, so good. One day, we will go back and stay longer. We will, we will.