Weekend Adventures

I honestly don't know when it was that I first fell in love with the small coastal town that Scooter and I frequent at least a few times a year. My grandmother lived there when I was growing up, so perhaps it's the memories that have turned my like into love over the years. Whatever it is, it's the place that I dream of living in one day. In a perfect world, I would be able to live there, and cook, garden, and read to my heart's content, and I would work part-time at the county library system.

The town, which is home to less than 1,000 people, is nestled along the coastal highway that travels up and down the coast of California. The highway winds right through the middle of town, bringing tourists in on the weekends throughout the year; the local economy seems to rely on fishing and tourism. And despite the rowdy crowd from the city (of which I don't consider myself one), the town is positively charming. For the weekend tourist, there are several gift shops to choose from, salt water taffy and seafood, and some gorgeous scenery. Bumper stickers for his or her car describe the town as "a quiet little drinking village with a fishing problem" to get a laugh out of friends once the tourist returns home. For the less transient resident--which I file myself under because even though I'm not always there in body, my heart is there year-round--there is a slower, quieter life that you can't always see if you're only there for the weekend. The fog rolls in during the early to mid-morning, cloaking the harbor in a grey mist that obscures the view of the water; the sun burns it off by the afternoon to reveal the marinas, the water, and the shoreline. Gulls call to each other in the hopes of finding food to scavenge, and the seals bark across the harbor. The fog horn bellows every 10-15 seconds, day or night, rain or shine; it keeps boats from crashing on the rocks around the headland that forms part of the entry into the harbor. Ocean winds on the headland guarantee decent kite flying almost all the time. The moisture and salt in the air plays havoc with the metal of vehicles. Winter storms are much more thrilling there than they are in the middle of the suburbs. There is no traffic, not by city standards, and in fact there are no street lights in town. It's an accepted fact that for anything other than regular groceries, one is expected to drive to the next town over to the larger chain stores and supermarkets. It's a different life, and one I hope to someday make mine.

But in the meantime, Scooter and I spend time up there when we can and dream about what it would be like to live there full-time. We stay at my aunt and uncle's summer home, which has a perfect view of the channel used by the boats to sail out of the harbor. This last weekend was also the annual Fisherman's Festival, so we got to enjoy the festivities as well. Here are some pictures from last weekend's adventures:

My favorite beach, just north of the town

The beach has a freshwater creek that runs from the hills on the other side of the road.

Some picturesque houses along the coast

The countryside around the town is home to many farms. You can see cows, sheep, horses, and goats all within a few minutes' drive.

We started the morning of the festival off with a yummy breakfast of homemade crab eggs Benedict. *drool*

Llamas are a regular at the festival. The owner (on the right) brought them out for a walk around to greet people.

Llama close-up!

Local rescue crews used this helicopter to demonstrate a water rescue in the harbor near the festival (a demo they continue to do every year).

On the last day of the festival, the boats in the harbor sail out to the bay, then are blessed by a priest as they come back in. The Blessing of the Fleet is done to protect the boats in the coming year.

That's the sum of my adventures. My aunt and I have already talked about when Scooter and I will be able to go up again. It won't be for a few months, at the least. Not soon enough for me!