Posted by Alana Martin on May 14, 2010 02:40 p.m.
It was a cloudy day, and cold enough that a light jacket was needed outside. The sun was breaking through the clouds in some areas and leaving a slight shimmer on the still water outside the window. Boats were moored on the small wharves all around us, slowly bobbing up and down in the breeze. A handful of sea lions were still hanging around and sleeping on the docks, every now and then letting out a growl when one of the younger ones clambered over them to get to a better spot. We were sitting in a little restaurant that had a menu predominantly made up of seafood, simple yet comfortable furniture, and a view that overlooked the bay. My surroundings reminded me of the movie Andre, about the seal in the small fishing village who befriended a young girl. If I had just been transported here without any previous knowledge, that’s what I would have thought, anyway.
I love traveling to places where I can experience things that are different to my own country and my own culture. Since I grew up in Australia, the United States was never on the top of my “places to visit” list. I just always assumed that it would be too similar to what I was used to and it wouldn’t completely fulfill my wanderlust. However, when the opportunity came to visit Los Angeles last December, the more I thought about it, the more excited I became. I knew that one of the things I wanted to do while I was there was road-trip up the Pacific Highway to San Francisco, stopping off in the towns and small villages along the way; I wanted to admire the beauty of California outside the big cities.
Setting off early in the morning, Starbucks coffee in our cup holders, golden oldies music playing in the CD player, and a handful of maps, my travelling companion and I headed toward the highway. Our first stop was in Santa Barbara, two hours north of Los Angeles. I was truly surprised by the beauty of this city, with the ocean at its forefront and the steep mountains behind it. The streets were lined with towering palm trees, and colorful Birds of Paradise flowers stood to attention among the shops and offices. Even the buildings themselves were quite striking; they were designed in true Spanish missionary style with red tiled roofs and white stucco walls, making them stand out even more against the blue sky.
After following the highway which at times went along the coast but also took us through small towns much further inland, our next stop was Morro Bay, a good couple of hours north of Santa Barbara. This was the small seaside city that brought back childhood memories of Andre. After a delicious seafood lunch overlooking the quiet bay, we spent some time walking the street along the waterfront, which was full of shops selling tourist trinkets and interesting art. We wandered along the wharf, marveling at the uniqueness of Morro Rock, a huge structure jutting out in the middle of the bay, a remnant of an ancient volcano. The smell of the salty air, the cool breeze and calm surroundings made the wharf not only a great place to stretch our legs and prepare us for the next part of our journey, but it completely lived up to my childhood imagination of a small American fishing village.
The next part of the drive was truly the most spectacular of the whole road trip. Justly named the Big Sur Coast Scenic Drive, from Morro Bay to Carmel-by-the-Sea Highway 1 follows the natural meandering of the coast. The soaring rugged mountains were on one side of us, constantly threatening to unleash their full force and shower us with enormous boulders; the seemingly never-ending Pacific Ocean was on the other side, crashing ferociously onto the rocks below. The sight helped me put my life into perspective; we seem so small and insignificant in comparison to the wonders that Mother Nature has provided.
Carefully guiding our car, the length of the highway coming frighteningly close to the sheer cliff faces, and making our way across more than 30 bridges that traverse the deep gorges, we were more than a little happy to find ourselves heading inland somewhat near Big Sur. The beauty of this section of the drive was mostly attributed to the lofty Redwood trees that grew at the foot of the mountains. The trees were so colossal that the sunlight had trouble getting through them, and the roads were perpetually covered in shade, giving the area an almost peaceful feel.
Heading back toward the coast, we finally made it to Carmel-by-the-Sea, a tiny little town that had been recommended by a number of people for its natural splendor and artistic past. Just as dusk became night, we drove off the highway and Carmel glimmered in front of us, the whole town decorated in Christmas lights for the holiday season, giving it an almost magical feel. We took our time walking around the town, which could be crossed in under 10 minutes, admiring the cute little art galleries and numerous restaurants and shops. Carmel amazed us as much in the light of day as it had in the glittering lights of night, with a spectacular white sand beach extending the length of the town and remarkable views of the ocean and beyond. It was a perfect place to stop and have lunch, take off our shoes and walk along the sand, clamber over the rock pools, and soak up the winter sun before getting back in the car and heading back down to the big metropolis that is Los Angeles.