Monterey and Carmel

I was telling someone we were going to Monterey this weekend. They said they couldn’t wait for the blog. Hmmm, I hadn’t thought of that! I never blog for our local trips. I think it’s because when I started writing “Dashing Bold Adventure” years ago, my readers were friends and family. Now my blog is popular in India, Russia, Italy, England, Tunisia, Canada, Mexico, Central America, United Arab Emirates, and more.

So here we are in Monterey Bay in central California. As soon as we checked into our hotel, Joe and I drove over to Carmel-By-The-Sea. First stop was our favorite wine bar, Andre’s Bouchee. I had a lovely glass of Silvestri Syrah while chatting it up with the French bartender. Next was window shopping. Joe stood on the sidewalk with all of the other husbands while I wandered through the boutiques. Two thousand dollar cowboy boots? Fifteen thousand dollar chandeliers? How about some scrumptious looking pastries? Priceless. 

Joe settled into Aw Shucks for a beer while I continued to wander and snap photos. I bought a couple of souvenirs for our friends in Italy. We’ll be spending some time in their home in Milan in May (to say we’re excited would be an understatement). When I hunted Joe down, he said we have to go to Munuka’s for a glass of Spanish wine and tapas. He'd just met the chef and got his card. Okay. It was a fun little Spanish restaurant tucked away in a courtyard.

From there we followed the directions from a local to an Italian restaurant with a terrace. It took awhile, but we found it and climbed the stairwell to the crowded rooftop terrace. We sat snuggled up on a love seat and listened to the hum of conversations, and stared up at the stars. Time to go back to Monterey.

This morning I woke up alone. Joe had left at 5:30 in the morning for the Coast Guard Jetty. He and Dick had a class of four student SCUBA divers to throw in the ocean (the reason for our being here).  I joined him at a more reasonable hour, 9:00. The weather is unusually warm and clear, though I see clouds coming this way. The students struggle to remain calm as they shoulder their gear over thick cold-water wetsuits. It’s too warm for working out in a 7 millimeter wetsuit while instructors critique your every move. The waves crash against the rock jetty below as they make their way down to the small beach. I’m not a cold water diver, so I’m off to Starbucks. (where I later found out they could hack my address book via public WiFi!)