The days here are very short. Here being near Monterey, California in December. The sun sets around five in the afternoon. By six it's pitch dark. (Pitch was a gooey, sticky, bituminous material used to caulk between logs, etc. Very dark.) It may also contribute to the brevity of the days that we often don't even hear the coffeemaker grind the beans at seven. This morning, in the midst of trying to snuggle back to sleep, Maureen had to interrupt a perfectly good night by asking the hour. It was 9:30. She was, I think, a little embarrassed. I was deeply satisfied and ready to snuggle back in for a bit longer. We hadn't gone to bed until 10:30, it was cold (okay, cool) in the RV and it was really quiet outside. We laughed at dinner tonight how the cooler it gets the more we flirt with hibernation.
Drove the Smart car yesterday from Felton down 17 to Highway 1 to New Brighton State Beach campground. They seemed a bit aloof there. They had some sites with electric and water. And they had some sites that had gorgeous clifftop views of the ocean. However, the two types of sites did not overlap: you may pick either. It was a beautiful location and easily accessible off Hwy 1. Must be a handful of the most beautiful boondocking sites in the country.
Left NBSB and continued down the coast to Castroville and Moss Landing. A friend said Moss Landing, off the power plant, is one of the deepest areas along the coast and therefore a good place to whale watch. On the way north a few days ago we'd passed through Castroville, a small, California farming town that bills itself as the artichoke capital of the world. Anyplace that sells fresh artichokes 5, 10 or 20 for $2 - depending on size and freshness - must have some solid connections in the 'choke trade.
Went on into Monterey. Looked for Mr. Eastwood, their former mayor, but it's a big town. Interesting in the way so many coastal towns are. A bit of a jumble of homes reminiscent of beach houses back east, some stucco and clay roof and some more Mediterranean looks. Small homes on tiny lots on lurching streets, all nearing a million dollars.
We drove out on the wharf. Costs a dollar or two per hour to park. The wind blowing from the sea quickly confirmed the area to be a working fishing pier. Beyond the end were sailboats moored to large, steel ball, buoys. A seal perched on one buoy. By arching its head over its back, pointing its snout to the sky it could doze off, still balanced on the bobbing ball. Went back to the car for shelter from the wind (and aroma) and had the lunch Maureen had packed for us. Fun watching the sea gulls try to perch on pipes installed along the railing to prevent sea gulls using it as a perch. Colorful kayaks enlivened the surroundings.
After a bit of driving around town I realized if we didn't leave then we'd miss our opportunity to watch for whales, etc. Back to Highway 1 and north to Moss Landing. Parked in the lot amid surfer's vans and trucks and trudged over the dune to a view of the ocean. There were a dozen or more surfers waiting on their boards but the waves kept breaking too early. We sat or stood on a foot square length of wood that still slightly smelled of creosote. M spotted a blow to the left of our field of view, near a buoy. We kept watching and she captured two more on video. A success!
We returned home, without a loaf of bread, but with some 7,000 steps and good memories.
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