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The coast of CA and the coast of OR are competing in my brain for best coastline.  I'm not sure who's gonna win, but it sure was fun checking them both out.

Stunning, spectacular, has to be experienced to be believed, cannot be described.  And delightfully undeveloped.  That's what I think of Big Sur.

I picnicked in a verbotten manner, disappearing over the edge of a carpark / vista area, out of sight of everyone.  I wanted to enjoy my weird lunch without spectators. Two small pieces of buffalo-spiced chicken, and half a bag of rosemary and olive oil potato chips.  There was a beautiful little sand beach at the bottom of the extremely steep, dry, dusty hill that I almost tumbled down with my picnic basket (a paper bag from Trader Joe's in Monterery).  I had some Trader Joe's fresh mango pieces -- unforgettable -- while the surf lapped at the beach.  It was protected by giant rocks, so it was just a quiet little private sandy beach that no one but a few smart seagulls could get to, making it even more appealing.

The Pacific Ocean had no swells today, it was flatter than Lake Michigan.  In the afternoon, starting at, say, three p.m., the sunlight danced off the water as the sun headed to make a new day in Japan.  The water looked leathery, or maybe scaly, like snakeskin, millions of interlocking scales whose edges were lit by the slanting sun.  I got sunburned today just looking at the water, which I couldn't stop doing.

Tonight I'm in San Luis Obispo and will visit the mission in the morning.  If it's at all like the Carmel mission, it is picturesque, full of Spanish character, feels peaceful, has a central garden full of hummingbirds, is more than 200 years old.  But there's a dark side -- the friars didn't technically "enslave" the Native Americans, because they didn't buy and sell them, but they made them work like slaves and destroyed their morale and "disciplined" them harshly (as harshly as they disciplined themselves), and were as surprised as everybody else when ninety percent of the natives died.  Now we know it was malnutrition, overwork, smallpox and that special gift of European men -- syphillis.

Tomorrow, scenes from the California coast.  For now, some final pics from Monterey's Cannery Row.  I'll give you a little variation from pirates:

How about a California Highway Patrol (CHIPS) officer?

Or this lovely darling?  What is public art coming to?

Everything I need for two months of living is in this luggage.  The weird cow-hide food-chill bag is turning out to be very useful.  It saves my spot on the bus when I get off to stretch my legs.