Thankful to be back on dry land, we headed back to our Chev (we thought we were super cool, in case you hadn’t gathered that), and continued on to Monterey.
Side note: the others wouldn’t let me stop to purchase, or even photograph this, but en route, we saw a stall advertising 7 avocados for $1!!!!!! SEVEN!!! For ONE DOLLAR! I guess heaven does exist…
It did not disappoint! I felt like I had just stepped into a Nicholas Sparks novel (except, you know, in Cali and not North Carolina), with a handful of quirky shops, couples meandering down the rugged coastal path, and real ‘American’ looking homes, complete with white shutters and stunning views.
We parked up the car, and meandered down the coast ourselves, dodging locals who were cycling and jogging past us (I swear I’d get fit if I lived here!).
After admiring the views, we stopped off at a little spot on Lovers Point (can this place get any cuter?!) for some lemonade…
…before driving down the road for an In-N-Out. It had to be done, didn’t it?!
Tummy’s well and truly busting, we continued our journey down Route 1. The wind had started to pick up by this point, and as neither the designated driver, nor the tallest of the group, I had unfortunately been lumped with the worst – and windiest – seat in the house:
We stopped briefly in Santa Cruz, and had a short walk down the boardwalk.
By this time, though, most of the rides had closed up for the evening, and sunburned bodies were making their way back to the carpark.
The beach was lovely, although it didn’t quite compare to the calmer, more scenic Monterey!
We took one last photo…
…before jumping back in the Chev and heading back to San Jose.
After singing Mariah Carey to our heart’s content, reality suddenly hit when we had the dilemma of figuring out how to use an American petrol station. Who knew it would be so different!?
Embarrassingly, I actually learnt to drive in the States, so should have been more adept at the process… It was around 20 minutes before we realised we had to pay BEFORE we pumped. Awkward.
After waving goodbye to our baby back at the rental place, we uber’d back to our hotel; whilst sad that our Californian adventure was over, we were all on the kind of high that little kids get after a birthday party — exhausted, but unable to stop grinning and going over our highlights from the day.
Later, we popped to a local Mexican restaurant (I’m so sorry, but I’m totally blanking on the name!!) which served the most incredible cocktails (I’m a sucker for a Margarita). Needless to say, we drank and ate more than our fair share, and ended up dancing ’til the early hours. Photos not suitable for the internet.