I would like to share my trip down the California Coat. This will be posted in pieces.

Monterey- Day One:

We left home Friday at about noon, stopped for lunch and were on our way. Oh, the beautiful, car studded views of I-80. By the time we got to Stockton, it was time for a stop. Since this WAS the first stop on our trip, of course I had to take a picture….this is what we saw. While I feel that it’s possible we weren’t in the best part of town, this is what many travelers may see.

Now, we aim for Gilroy, the next step towards our goal. Although I neglected to stop for pictures of the rolling hills of dead tan grasses and utility lines, the next two hours was tedious. Muddling through the ups and downs of radio stations, ranging from Davis Campus to scores of stations playing a Mariachi or Mariachi Pop-like sound, we saw less travelers than expected on Labor Day Weekend. About 4 pm, we reach the famous Casa de Fruta. Being that this little fruit stand expanded into a booming, bustling tourist stop after 100 years in business, and was once the only stop along this stretch, of course, we stopped too. An indoor/outdoor commercial market, full of candy bins, dried fruit bins, and garlic braids hanging from the ceiling. We had the sense to stop and taste the wine, picked two bottles, I found a keepsake, and we made our way to the register; a bottleneck to the exit. We paid for the items we had and a slice of local-made jerky from a bin. I took just a couple pictures on the way out of an antique fruit picker and part of the building. I have to get better with this camera I think!

After that quick stop, we were back on our way…or so we thought. After only 10 minutes on the road...we finally hit the traffic we were waiting for. A 6 mile stretch turned into 30 minutes as we crept along in 100 degree heat. Finally, we see why. Four roads, all packed, converging on one stoplight which lets one road convergence through at a time. Eventually it was our turn to go, and after some almost-horn hitting to get the person in front of us to get a move on, we got through. Part of our stream of cars turning left, some going straight. We were back to speed in no time.

The last batch of traffic we hit was Highway 101, where we had to “briefly” jump on and off the freeway to Monterey Peninsula. By this time, we were ready to be there. When I finally could see glimpses of the ocean through the rolling sand dunes, I breathed a sigh of relief. Almost there, almost out of the car for the day. After a slow crawl on 101, and a few confusing moments, we were in front of the Monterey Hotel. Right in downtown Monterey, on the main drag. This hotel, this furniture, so luxurious, beautiful. Yay, a nice first stop. What they failed to tell us, we booked the 4^th floor for the view….and the elevator was out. It had been out when we made the reservations too. Apparently not to be fixed. Great. 

Dinner was to be found not by the concierges’ recommendation, but walking around a bit and seeing for ourselves. Passing a group of kids, apparently used to being on the streets, they thanked us for our contribution…which we had given hours before, we continued past our recommended destination, slipped around the block, and tried Montrio Bistro. A private party had infiltrated, and we were not able to get in. We continued on. Eventually, we chose the Crown and Anchor, a traditional British Arms-type pub. I loved the atmosphere and the “stuff”. There was an imminent nautical theme and a noisy brouhaha. After one bite of the mussels in butter and garlic sauce, however, I knew I wasn’t getting a proper dinner. The mussels were fresh but the wine in the sauce was not sautéed long enough to remove that bitter alcohol flavor, which seeped into the mussels and broth. Anything that probably would have tasted good was all but destroyed on contact….but the neighbors were friendly and the wine was good. By speaking to two women, locals, we learned of several places in town to visit, but chose one I liked the look of that was right at the foot of our hotel; My Attic. We finished our drinks over good conversation and we headed to the other bar. After ensuring our dress code was appropriate per the sign I read earlier, we went in. Locating a tiny front bar, packed and too small, we entered the “main room”. An overly large room with what seem to be wing-backed loveseats lined the walls, a sofa/loveseat to our right wall, bar to the left, and….the table. I giant, 8 person gothic table sat in the center of the room, with no one there….and no one ever sat there during our stay. We sat in one of the loveseats. Our waitress asked my martini choices twice. I am particular; up, dry, twist of lemon-no olives. I chose Tanqueray gin. I got damned olives. After addressing this and landing the olives on the table/chair/footstool, I got my twist of lemon. By this point we were tuckered out, so we finished our drinks, climbed our towering fortress, shut out as much of the din as possible (did I mention they provide earplugs standard with the room?), and slept.