So..the Ritz at Half Moon Bay. Not too shabby. Not as nice as the Shangri la hotel in Chengdu, but it will do in a pinch. My room overlooked the valet parking lot & heard the beep beeps of cars worth more than a small Eastern European Country’s 10 yr GDP being abandoned to the hotel. My boss, who was right across the hallway in an almost identical room – overlooked what can best be described as “Glory”. Plummeting cliffs, birds grappling mid-air and diving into the frothy ocean mere feet away for fish, deep blue nights and brilliant moons…vs the valet lot. If I were a better person, I wouldn’t have complained about my room at the Ritz. I didn’t “complain”. Per se. But I definitely pointed out the disparity at every available opportunity. So we know that there’s room for more a bit more personal growth.
Picture of the hotel clinging to the cliffs:
These were taken out on the Coastal Trail that runs in between the water and the golf course. Not a bad stroll to start the morning.
Half Moon Bay is right on Highway #1. Which I think I already blogged about. Did I talk about sea kayaking? Yep, did that, too. Danced a bit with some sea lion’s in the water and then accidentally woke one up on a pier (they’re huge and kind of scary in a lumbering way).
The weather was actually gorgeous for most of the time. The one time it wasn’t was the night I’d managed to get one of the wive’s to go grocery shopping for smore’s things so we could all have a bonfire in one of the large outdoor fire pits. So, boo. I’ve been told to not expect this level of grandiosity on every trip BUT I will be googling every hotel from here on out to see if there are outdoor fire pits. Just in case. Because, gosh. Smore’s would have taken the trip from fantastic to mind-bending.
On the last day, the main boss left early, taking the Nissan with him. My other boss and I didn’t fly out until 10pm and spent a nanosecond debating the merits of remaining in a windowless conference room on what was maybe the most gorgeous day that I’ve ever been alive, or instead taking a road trip as far South as we could go before burning rubber back to the airport.
So here’s a picture of the pier on Santa Cruz, where Lost Boys was filmed! Everything was closed down for some reason, but still. We Were There.
We also stopped in a diner that advertised “GUY ATE HERE” on a big banner hanging from the roof. I thought they meant some random guy and declared this to be the greatest advertising scheme I’d ever heard of. My boss called me a social illiterate and pointed out that it meant Guy Fiori. So naturally we pulled over and ate there. It was gross, but still. We Ate There.
The night before our little road trip, both of my boss’s had asked me if I had any buttons because they’d been looking. Yes, I replied. Don’t ever call me “Jenny”. Forest Gump ruined my life for about an entire decade. It annoys me. Annoying me is a privilege reserved for children and foreigners who don’t know any better. Call me “Jenny” at your peril.
Fitting that the very next day we came across a Bubba Gump in Monterrey:
Cannery area in Monterrey:
And then we lit out for the airport. This boss is a manly 6’5″, carries his knees around his ears when driving and has a delightful singing voice although he can’t hit all of Kelly Clarkson’s high notes. At one point this truck swerved out into traffic directly in front of us towing porta-potties & got crap (literally) all over our windshield. When we turned the car in, Hertz noticed a HUGE long white stripe on a back bumper from where a valet kid had not taken proper care of the Toyota. I wonder what the other car was. There were some mean machines in that lot. The scratch trumped the crap.
That is all. Although they were shooting a movie in JFK but I didn’t stop to ask about it because the line for security was a mile long. Pretty fancy equipment. And I had a first class seat home just to get a little taste of how the other half lives so that I know what I’m missing next time I get shipped to the back of the bus. They live differently up there.