The Pigeon Point hostel was actually a great place to stay. Hostel guests are allowed to hang out at the lighthouse grounds after it is closed to the ordinary public. Later in the day the mist rolls in giving the whole place a mysterious feel to it. The hostel rooms are located in 4 bungalows each with their own kitchen, bathroom and living room space. A man named Mike offered to cook me angel hair spaghetti but I declined (some people get funny about burning flags – most Italians get funny about pasta cooked by non-Italians). This issue arose later during a heated Scrabble match; I had obviously pushed some buttons.
The idea of going to a hostel can be off putting however the experience always turns out to be better than expected. The bonus feature of the Pigeon Point hostel was its hot tub; I didn’t partake.
The next morning we took off into the mist towards Santa Cruz. Within minutes we were drenched and fighting a headwind. Morale soon lowered to “let’s give up” point.
We soldiered on to Ano Nuevo and Pebble Beach (not the famous one) and finally stopped at Swanton Berry Farm in Davenport, which was also the finishing line for a 48-hour charity running race. Cyclists receive a 10% discount (if they wear their helmets) on all products; I suggest the pumpkin pie and coffee.
After that much needed break we fought the wind into Santa Cruz, had a wicked Mexican lunch and checked into a motel. That night Ken and I mentioned the elephant in the room: his need to slow down, my need to speed up; with that we knew we would be parting the next day.
The idea of going to a hostel can be off putting however the experience always turns out to be better than expected. The bonus feature of the Pigeon Point hostel was its hot tub; I didn’t partake.
The next morning we took off into the mist towards Santa Cruz. Within minutes we were drenched and fighting a headwind. Morale soon lowered to “let’s give up” point.
We soldiered on to Ano Nuevo and Pebble Beach (not the famous one) and finally stopped at Swanton Berry Farm in Davenport, which was also the finishing line for a 48-hour charity running race. Cyclists receive a 10% discount (if they wear their helmets) on all products; I suggest the pumpkin pie and coffee.
After that much needed break we fought the wind into Santa Cruz, had a wicked Mexican lunch and checked into a motel. That night Ken and I mentioned the elephant in the room: his need to slow down, my need to speed up; with that we knew we would be parting the next day.
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