It's 6 hours to our Cambria airbnb, where we meet the grandparents for a short family weekend.
We pass a flaming tractor-trailer whose flames have spread up the arid hillside, but we get through it before they close the road. We didn't have to stop, though the last hour or so required a lot of Cocomelon. You're never so aware of your body parts as when you have to hear them every three songs or so.
The house is cute, and it's tucked away in an idyllic cliffside neighborhood, surprisingly similar to our back house in Santa Barbara. It feels even more remote than the lake - even Instacart and Ubereats don't reach.
A quick meal at the Main Street Grill kicks off our first night. A simple cafeteria, they have a sizeable patio with barricades so you have time to catch your kids before they reach the road. The burgers are whatever, and the chicken tenders are solid. The fries are crisp and the onion rings are awesome. The baskets are made to share, and it's a good thing because Izzy alone ate at least 30 fries.
The morning starts at Sandy's Deli & Bakery. A cappuccino scratches the coffee itch, and we keep it simple with a moist bran muffin and a flaky croissant. The sandwiches look pretty sweet for a lunch stop, and the main street is great for a morning walk.
More walking along the gorgeous Moonstone Beach Trail. The seaside paths are evenly paved, and a small staircase will drop you right on the beach. It takes a pretty picture if you can get over the weird-looking kelp that makes you see snakes.
Boni's Tacos will feed four for a few dollars, a sweet selection of street tacos with some serious salsa. The red salsa packs some heat, and the bright green hints of habanero. They put some color in your cheeks and a little sweat on your brow, and they take these tacos from good to pretty great. Carne asada is my fave, with juicy chunks of steak,
Al pastor has a nice coat of chili paste,
And the chile verde is a spicy green.
The tacos line our stomachs for the evening libations that are to come. A wedding awaits us, a rare opportunity to put on our celebration best. I haven't dressed up in so long, I forgot how to do my makeup.
Ragged Point Inn. Nothing around it, just a cliffside from the PCH. This venue rocks, almost as much as the couple getting married. It's a good night, but I don't think they were prepared for Table 8. A bunch of loud lightweights, the evening is frequently punctuated by our antics. A moving mother-son dance is underway, and the man I married, whom I pretend not to know, asks, audibly, "Is this from Braveheart?" And this was the tamest thing we did.
We end the evening by bidding so many people goodbye. There's a med school crew I haven't seen in half a decade and a residency crew that has otherwise scattered. We get pulled over for (accidentally) high-beaming a police officer driving back, and he impresses us with his kindness. The not-so-small one is wide awake, but she's had a blast with her grandparents so a good night all around.
Up the PCH for some goodbyes over breakfast, and Castroville, here we come.
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