(Photos can be viewed here)
Being rudely interrupted is the worst. A friend ruining your joke’s punch line, stubbing your toe whilst walking, burping in a conversation… the list goes on. But for me, it was sleeping only to wake up being rolled across my berth. No thanks. I don’t get seasick, unlike my dad who is affectionately known as “Up-chuck Billy”, but the swell on that leg to Monterey had me pretty darn close.
After 7 hours of closing my eyes with music blasting in my ears, we reached the marina in Monterey Bay. Part of me wanted to latch onto the nearest pylon and say “HELL NO!” only to see most of them adorned with 400+ lb sea lions. Oh yeah, and they were honking (or whatever noise those stinkers make) at the top of their fishy lungs. Lovely. If I haven’t mentioned, I am, what is known as, a fairly incurable bookworm. And there I was: the home of Cannery Row and Tortilla Flats – two classics written by the literary mastermind John Steinbeck. Feel free to peruse my BBs, Brief Biographies, including one of Steinbeck!
Whilst we were in Monterey, we of course went to the fabulous Aquarium and the street they renamed to Cannery Row. If you can go into the Monterey Bay Aquarium, you must. It was so cool, and its not as loud and bustling as some aquariums can be. You got to wander anywhere, and the animals were all really active. We saw a massive collection of jellyfish, including one called the Flapjack Jelly which is probably the cutest sea creature ever, and a very busy octopus who gave us all a wonderful – if slightly creepy – view of every inch of his odd body.
San Simeon
Ok, I’m really excited to share our experience at San Simeon. This was one of my most favorite places, despite its lackadaisical beginning. Mum was so excited, since this was nicknamed “The Otter Playground” and we were so ecstatic to see fluffy little cuties frolicking in the water.
We arrived and saw no otters anywhere. Like, none. I was standing on the stern of Aggie with my arms crossed, huffily waiting for some (warning, terrible joke coming) otter-tainment. My parents watched the waves breaking on the shore, then did something frightening and only done is drastic scenarios: an idea was put into action.
“We’re going ashore! DROP THE DINGHY AND PROCEED TO LAND!” my mother proclaimed, and my dad gleefully clapped his hands in agreement.
I pulled my earbuds out and stared at her.
“wut.”
I watched the waves break on the very shore they wanted to land on.
“Pardon, not ‘what.'”
“pArdoN?!” I had choked out.
Before I knew it, we were standing quite soggy onshore, and I was fishing out my now-drenched smart phone.
“Great. I’m soggy, my bag’s soggy, and my only form of communication with the outside world is soggy.” I growled. Thank god my phone is waterproof. My sudoku… not so much.
So San Simeon is not only known for otters but this fabulous castle high up in the hills. We had made it our quest to go there. After a 30 minute walk, with me – a soggy, cranky teen with no desire to participate in physical activity of any kind – we hit the visitors center.
“Darn. It must be pretty well known if there’s a visitors center. ” We’d surveyed the area but the castle was hidden from sight. We bought tickets, which were surprisingly cheap, and took the bus up the really long, windy road to Hearst Castle.
Hearst Castle was stunning, mission-esque, very glamorous; gold embellished everything but it didn’t feel gaudy to me. It belonged to a wealthy newsman, and it took around 30 years to be finished, though it was always under construction. But during the Great Depression, Hearst Castle slowly fell into a a state of devastating disrepair.
We spent about 4 hours trying, in vain, to take it all in but we failed. It was was a gargantuan of an estate, with two pools, a private theatre, a tennis court, a grand dining hall, three cottages and over 150 rooms, Hearst even had a zoo. Some of the most impressive things were actually the remarkable and priceless historical artifacts he’s collected in his “quaint” abode. Roman pillars surrounded the outdoor Neptune Pool and historically prominent Egyptian busts sat serenely outside. When we left, I’d filled my camera roll with pictures, but I’d still only had about 32% of all the incredible things we saw.