Day 7: Wax museum and swimming

This morning I woke up when Dylan woke up because man oh man, that kid can yell. But Dylan woke up at my wake-up time, so I guess it was okay. I tried to tattle on them again this morning, because one of the wrestling routines they did involved banging on walls and the room was kind of shaking. The Motel 6 guy gave them a call but they didn’t pick up, and that’s about as much as Motel 6 is willing to do these days. When the dad came back in he started yelling SO LOUD, and this is what he said: “YOU KIDS NEED SOME ANGER MANAGEMENT! IF YOU DON’T LEARN TO CONTROL YOURSELF, WE ARE NEVER GOING TO ANOTHER SKATEBOARD CONTEST AGAIN.” (a kid interjected, “but he called me gay!” to which the dad replied) GAY! GAY! GAY! GAY! IT’S JUST A WORD! WHY DO YOU LET IT BOTHER YOU? YOU CALL PEOPLE GAY TOO! (to which the kid replied, “no I don’t, I call them faggots.” And then the family had a heartwarming discussion about the definition of gay and faggot, etc. I hope no one is offended by my use of these words in my blog, but that’s what I heard this morning, and since Motel 6 didn’t give a flip about whether I was offended, I’m going to have to assume that it’s not a big deal.

Man I was glad to leave that hotel.

I went into Monterey. First, I went down to Cannery Row, made famous by the John Steinbeck novel of the same name. Originally home to sardine canneries, there’s now many nice shops and restaurants.

I spent most of my time at John Steinbeck’s Spirit of Monterey Wax Museum (http://www.wax-museum.com. I highly recommend looking at the pictures). As an exhibit, it’s a little overpriced and needs a little work in terms of the audio and upkeep, but I like to support literary tourism in any way possible. The wax figures tell the story of how Monterey was settled, and then the second half shows Cannery Row as Steinbeck knew it and loved it. I got a John Steinbeck t-shirt. Be on the lookout for it.

Then I walked down to Fisherman’s Wharf. Per usual, I got a little lost on my way out of Monterey.

Then I went on the 17-Mile Drive, which is a private road along the ocean that weaves through golf courses, including Pebble Beach. Lots of mansions. Lots of scenic views. Ocean, sand, it was all pretty. Hard to describe better than that. Maybe the next time I go to Pebble Beach, I’ll be married to a millionaire who will go golfing while I go to the spa or something.

It was on to Carmel-by-the-Sea, which is where Clint Eastwood was once mayor. I got there right as about five tour buses did, so the town was packed. It felt kind of like a Disney World European village. I went down and looked at the beach, and then I had to get food because it was 2:30 and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I ended up eating a calamari steak and risotto at a little bistro. I grabbed a brownie at a bakery and got back on Highway 1.

From Carmel, Highway 1 goes through Big Sur. I only drove about 90 miles, but it was the longest 90 miles of the trip. Also the prettiest, because the road hugs the coast, but there were lots of hairpin turns, with nothing between you and the ocean but a cliff and a guardrail. My hands got a little sweaty but I think I got some great pictures.

When I got to San Simeon, I parked close to a hotel so I could steal their free wireless. I wanted to make sure I could make a reservation for Hearst castle before I stopped for the night, and it turned out I could, so I stopped here in San Simeon. I ended up with a beautiful hotel for the lowest rate I’ve paid yet, to which I say a hearty, “screw you, Motel 6.”

I went down to the beach to watch the sunset, and it was amazing. Earlier, this year, when I was at the Grand Canyon, people took buses and sat for hours to watch the sunset, and when it was over, no one was quite sure why they had watched it, I think. Just sort of anticlimactic, I guess, when the sun doesn’t hit the canyon at the right time. But this was the kind of sunset that watching the sunset was invented for. Lots of pinks streaking across the sky, and turquoise water coming in waves onto the white sand. So great.

Then I came back to the hotel and went swimming! I had the pool all to myself and did some laps, thinking about how in my next stage of life, I’m going to need an apartment complex with a pool. Or a gym with a pool. Or a boyfriend with a pool. Or all three. I’m not as good a swimmer as I used to be, but I love it. It’s hard to imagine a day so bad that swimming couldn’t make it better.

Then I sat in the hot tub for a bit, and tried to decide how I could work a hot tub into my next stage of life as well. They’re hell to keep up but man, that massage jet on my back was worth the whole price of the hotel.

Then I cleaned out my car. Life on the road isn’t always glamorous.