Our road trip was guided solely by a road atlas. I left my phone (and all of its mapping capabilities) at home. There are insets for certain cities, including Monterey. So we were able to see how close we were to Pebble Beach. I'm not a golfer, and neither is Jesse. But we both know Pebble Beach is a big deal, and Chris was really excited to see it. So we went. We drove further along the coast and saw some beautiful houses. Then we came to a guard.
He told us we were in fact on the way to the Pebble Beach Golf Course, and that it was $9.25 to drive by it. We turned around, thinking we had to be going the wrong way. But we weren't. It costs money to drive along the coast there, and we quickly saw why. The houses there are actually estates. And to call them ostentatious would be an understatement. Jesse & Chris fantasized about living there, having access to giant homes in an elite community, and minions to do things like get groceries and clean. I couldn't get into it though. That's not a lifestyle I want. If I can't clean my own house, then I have too much house. If I need someone to keep track of my stuff, I have too much stuff. Why would I pay someone to clean my mess? It's mine, and that's demeaning. I don't want to live behind a gate, even if it is along the coast. Thanks Pebble Beach, but no thanks.
We exhausted our daylight at Pebble Beach and drove home through Salinas. I have a friend from there and it fit with our Steinbeck theme. We didn't do anything cultural, or see anything interesting. But downtown looked fun. And the food at Norma's Diner was delicious.
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