Off The Cuff

This blog is on travels and musings. Memories fade and pictures capture only one moment in time, but together with some commentary maybe they can be enhanced—a story book version of the experience. Not all travel is to foreign places. And travel off the cuff can allow for surprises that please and delight.



Let me start at the beginning. October 21, 2007 was the celebration trip of Fred’s and my 40th wedding anniversary. We took a trip to visit our daughter, Monique, in San Francisco. She was in the midst of fixing up her new apartment (it’s way more than “fixing”, see her blog at http://dayataglance.blogspot.com ). We happened onto a gorgeous weekend in San Fran and decided to travel the Pacific coast on our way back home to Fresno.




(Our trip in first person)
Down Hwy 280 out of S.F. on Monday, Oct. 22, we take the Half Moon Bay turn off. Along the road into Half Moon Bay I get a few shots of one Pumpkin field (there are so many more).

















As we travel further we come across this fabulous pottery place with these metal sculptures of animals real and imagined at the side of the road (I can't believe I forgot to get the name of the place--I think it was because I was a bit overwhelmed by all the ideas this place was generating in me and Fred).











This has to be the best selection of pottery I have ever been exposed to in one place—there is yard after yard, room after room--of every kind of pottery, statuary for the garden and fountains that I have ever seen. This is a tiny example that hardly does it justice:













note the dragon beyond the fence.

After we reach Half Moon Bay we are ready for some food. We find two ladies pumping out great sandwiches in a little deli inside the same building as an old hotel which I have a card of somewhere. (I have to get better at getting the names of places.) We get avocado, cheese, tomato and lettuce sandwiches on Olive Walnut Bread, cream soda, Maui potato chips and a homemade brownie, which I will nibble on for two days. (Some things just have to be savored.).

Lunch under our belts, we head south. We pass this greenhouse nursery I used to buy houseplants from when I had a boutique called The Elemental in the old Artefactorage Bldg. on Fulton St (years ago). I would gather up Monique and hop in our old VW bus every three weeks or so and travel to the coast to replenish my supply of potted plants. I relished having to resupply the shop. We'd go from room to room and hand pick our plants. The gorgeous plant specimens, wonderful oxygen and fresh smell of moist earth were a sensory experience that stays with me still.




Further south, a few shots of Pescadero Beach.















Here’s a close up:
*Note the pirate ship someone constructed out of the plentiful drift

wood that abounds here ....












...and how very misty it is here where the stream coming from inland meets the ocean.














Traveling on,


We then come to Pigeon Point Lighthouse. They have some private rooms as well as being a youth hostel. It might be an interesting place to stay—very inexpensive.


































We drive on to Santa Cruz, arriving about 5:00 pm and veer right into a small motel I stayed at years ago—on the cliffs overlooking the boardwalk and pier; the Sea and Sand Inn.

We arrive just in time for free wine and cheese, which we promptly take advantage of. I have a

nice Chardonnay, Fred--a Merlot we settle ourselves on the grass patio and wait until sundown



















. . .while we enjoy the view -- the pier, the moon above and the great location at a great price.
















A few hardy souls are still surfing (hard to make out in the pictures). The board walk is quiet. The rides are all still now. The shadows lengthening. End of day 1.

Day 2
In the morning I awake at 6 am and after a refreshing shower step outside to watch the dawn. An orange streak across the horizon of the ocean at first confuses me—me thinking that when I look out at the ocean it is west. But the Monterey Bay curves and Santa Cruz sits at one end of the curve (Monterey at the other) looking east so the ocean I am viewing is actually the Bay.

The lamplights on the pier reflect in the water, making me think of the lights of the London bridge on the Thames. I wish I had my camera but the battery is busy charging. The barking seals that live under the pier sound like a hundred handsaws all sawing at the same time—or maybe a hundred mastiffs all barking at the same time.

By taking note of these details, I ask myself, “What does that sound like, what does that look like?” My imagination gets its exercise. Other moments I don’t think at all and let my senses take it all in without discrimination. The big sounds wash over me—the waves crashing against the shore, the seals—then slowly, the rising traffic of a weekday morning, smaller birds making their morning chirps and calls. The breeze licks my cheek, playing with a wisp of hair—a soft breeze.

I walk to the lobby to get my 7 am coffee and back to the room to get a pad and pen. I get reflective and think of Monique’s attention to detail (see her blog of fixing up her new home in S.F.). As I note the bits and pieces of my experience I decide to create this blog, more for myself than not, forcing me to take a closer look at the details, not just the big picture. Every little moment is a treasure. Every little treasure has the same import as the big ones (or maybe more). Taking note of the smaller details refines my discrimination; helping me define what I like and ultimately who I am.

The sun is warming me now, it is close to 8 am, and I start to get into regular mind; thinking I should be writing on my novel or a short story, something that will be productive.

So here are the morning pictures:

Our room has the open door.

After our continental breakfast, we head south to Moss Landing, taking Sandholt Road across the small bridge which looks back at the Moss Landing Stacks and boat harbor:

. . . and find Phil’s Fish Market where we have lunch. It is a must if you are in the area. Since it is early I think I’ll have a small bowl of clam chowder but end up with a stuffed artichoke as well and Fred has steamed clams. The artichoke is stuffed with crab & shrimp and Fred’s order of steamed clams is more like a bowl of soup with clams, tomatoes & garlic, etc, which Fred says is the best. A definite must stop when we come this way again.

An interesting house we pass:

On our final leg of the trip we make a stop in Castroville to do a little antique store hunting (more like junk store with old stuff) and stretch our legs. I find a few Blue Onion plates and Fred finds a piano chart.

We arrive at Monterey a little tired so we stop in Lover’s Point Park and lay on the grass for a while.

The perfect place to glance back across the Monterey Bay toward Santa Cruz and read a little before heading home on our 40th wedding anniversary trip, don’t you think?

More travels to come in the future.