After a pretty stingy breakfast at a delicatessen (Santa Barbara does not ‘do’ diners!) we headed out on Highway 1 again, aiming for San Francisco. The first stretch wasn’t that exciting, with a long stretch running inland, away from the coast, across miles and miles of flat farmland. At one point, David commented about a strong smell in the air. We were both trying to place it, when we realised that we were running through fields of strawberries as far as the eye could see—that is what we were smelling! You would never have noticed it in a car.Somewhere along this stretch something clicked in me, and I started to relax, to go with the flow, to enjoy the enforced stops (we were still stopping every 30 miles or so) and to work with the bike rather than fight it. Which was fortunate, because I was living a dream and it would have been such a waste to have ruined it by bucking against the traces.

The first place of note on this stretch (as far as we were concerned) was Morro Bay. This is a little fishing harbour set on a bay protected from the Pacific by a long sand spit. At one end of the bay is Morro Rock, a huge volcanic rock sticking up out of the surrounding sand. Getting to Morro Bay meant turning off the main highway and taking a detour of about 5 miles towards the ocean. The bizarre thing was the weather. Up on the highway, the sky was clear and the sun shining brightly. Down at Morro Bay, there were banks of fog rolling in off the ocean, so that Morro Rock kept appearing out of the murk and disappearing again. Very strange. We didn’t see any of the Peregrine falcons that are supposed to live on the Rock, but did see a harbour seal.

And then there was Big Sur. As the guidebook says, “Big Sur is an experience rather than one tangible place. Its beauty is awe inspiring”. And it is right. This is the stretch where the road hugs the coast, ranging from almost sea level to hundreds of feet up a cliff with the surf crashing below. Much of the land is covered with redwood forest, and the scent is marvellous—the mixture of salt air from the ocean and the pine scents of the forest. And the wind! We took quite a battering as we rode along, and I thought more than once that I would be glad to see the back of the ocean if only to get away from the wind. Little did I know…!

The scenery was simply stunning, the road was a joy to ride (I scraped the footplates a couple of times cornering a bit too enthusiastically!), the weather perfect.

This was my dream come true! And sharing it with David made it all the more special. We were having a great time. And David first displayed his amazing ability to spot rodents!

We decided to stop at Monterey, which is at the northern end of Big Sur, rather than pushing on to San Francisco. We had had a long day in the saddle, were full of fresh air and needed the rest.

And what a good decision that was.

As we rode along, we had both been keeping an eye on the water, hoping to catch sight of a sea otter. We thought we had seen one in the kelp beds along the way but could not be certain. But that evening, as we walked down by the marina after dinner, an otter popped up right next to us and swam along on his back, scratching and making otter noises. When we stopped, he stopped. He wasn’t in the least bit bothered by us. Sheer magic. And we also saw a bird that looked like a Great Northern Diver sitting on the water. While we watched it stuck its head under its wing and went to sleep, happy as a biddy.