Friday night I met D at the airport and after agonising over the choice of cars (colour and size-the most important aspects of a car, obviously), we finally hit the road. We spent the night in Santa Barbara and had an amazing breakfast in a seaside cafe (Esau's Cafe if you're ever there). It had a wonderful small town, hippie, surf-loving feel to it. D even overheard some of the locals chatting about the 'new guy who just rolled into town in his gas-guzzling Volkswagon van - 'what a hypocritical hippie surfer dude' - is what I imagine they were thinking). Sadly we had a lot of ground to cover, so we jumped back in the car, loaded up on supplies and made our way to the Pacific Coast Highway (Hwy 1) via Highway 101. It was a spectacular, sunny, beautiful day, and foregoing the terrible radio choices, we opted to drive in silence much of the way, chatting about the scenery, life and our road trip plans. The first stop was Hearst Castle. William Randolph Hearst's humungous, towering building that he, rather unbelievably, called a home at one point. It is a stunning architectural achievement, designed by a woman no less!, built on the top of a high hill within the Santa Lucia mountain range. The gardens surrounding it are an awe-inspiring achievement as well, given there is no natural top soil available on the grounds. And the pools! Oh the swimming pools.... It took an unbelievable about of self restraint not to do a canonball into the brilliant blue waters of the Neptune Pool.
We plodded on, venturing back to Highway 1 and enjoying the most magnificent drive I have every witnessed. D gripped the wheel with white knuckles and we constantly wove around the dramatic bends in the road, whilst trying to catch glimpses of the sea to our left and the mountains to the right. We pulled over multiple times to take photos, to gawk, and mutter the words we can't seem to stop saying 'it's sooooo beautiful' and then back to the car. We were racing against the clock, hoping to be off the road before dark. There is no way you could safely navigate that road at night! And we were successful. Sadly that meant blowing through Big Sur (a fantastically cool looking camping and hiking area). But in Monteray we were able to sample seafood at a 'British pub'!! Felt like home. Well.....an attempt at it at least. The calamari steak in a mushroom sauce melted in the mouth and was a real find. And D's clam chowder was tasty as well (or so I was told - curse my bloody lactose intolerance!)
Next up was San Francisco!! A city I'd been longing to visit my whole life. We spent the first afternoon walking the length of the Golden Gate Bridge and taking countless photos. And personally, I spent the day struggling. It suddenly occurred to me that P will never take this trip with me. He'll never see these sights alive in the flesh. And it hurt to think how much he would have loved this holiday, the utter joy he would have experienced in scaring the crap out of me on every bend on Highway 1, while I nagged him to 'slow down!' and shouted 'it's not funny anymore!' And every time D shot me a look as if to say 'you're so silly', I saw P arch his eyebrow at me, and give me a look that always wounded me just a little bit, giving him the perfect excuse to 'make it all better'. And I hate every moment that takes me away from the present. It doesn't feel fair to compare. But my memory is more powerful than I realised. And like in the films, when the lead character experiences a death of a loved one, P's face seems to be appearing everywhere I turn these days. He's in Chinatown with me, peering into the shops, he's nibbling on sushi for the first time (again) and hating the taste of eel while I lap it down, he's in the car, he's always in the car with me, and he's on the top of the mountains, taking in the view. He's everywhere and nowhere all at once.
We plodded on, venturing back to Highway 1 and enjoying the most magnificent drive I have every witnessed. D gripped the wheel with white knuckles and we constantly wove around the dramatic bends in the road, whilst trying to catch glimpses of the sea to our left and the mountains to the right. We pulled over multiple times to take photos, to gawk, and mutter the words we can't seem to stop saying 'it's sooooo beautiful' and then back to the car. We were racing against the clock, hoping to be off the road before dark. There is no way you could safely navigate that road at night! And we were successful. Sadly that meant blowing through Big Sur (a fantastically cool looking camping and hiking area). But in Monteray we were able to sample seafood at a 'British pub'!! Felt like home. Well.....an attempt at it at least. The calamari steak in a mushroom sauce melted in the mouth and was a real find. And D's clam chowder was tasty as well (or so I was told - curse my bloody lactose intolerance!)
Next up was San Francisco!! A city I'd been longing to visit my whole life. We spent the first afternoon walking the length of the Golden Gate Bridge and taking countless photos. And personally, I spent the day struggling. It suddenly occurred to me that P will never take this trip with me. He'll never see these sights alive in the flesh. And it hurt to think how much he would have loved this holiday, the utter joy he would have experienced in scaring the crap out of me on every bend on Highway 1, while I nagged him to 'slow down!' and shouted 'it's not funny anymore!' And every time D shot me a look as if to say 'you're so silly', I saw P arch his eyebrow at me, and give me a look that always wounded me just a little bit, giving him the perfect excuse to 'make it all better'. And I hate every moment that takes me away from the present. It doesn't feel fair to compare. But my memory is more powerful than I realised. And like in the films, when the lead character experiences a death of a loved one, P's face seems to be appearing everywhere I turn these days. He's in Chinatown with me, peering into the shops, he's nibbling on sushi for the first time (again) and hating the taste of eel while I lap it down, he's in the car, he's always in the car with me, and he's on the top of the mountains, taking in the view. He's everywhere and nowhere all at once.
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