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!