While writing these lines and choosing which pictures to post along, my heart breaks. I am overwhelmed by the impulsive, emotionally charged desire to get on the first plane and go back to California, but at the same time, I am painfully aware that my relatively decent standard of living of an Eastern European is closer to the one of a semi-miserable person in California, and this spontaneous adventure is practically impossible. Bitter-sweet in a nutshell is the situation with my emotions right now.
This holidays season we were a bit sick at home, so I did not go anywhere and decided to spend more time rearranging: my home, the library, all the maps and guides, my wardrobe, the kitchen, some files on my computer like pictures etc.
I dropped the idea of writing a chronological description of the trip to Central California I went on with my family last year, because it was almost a year or so ago, and it does not really matter how I describe and share the experience. So today, a small portion of Big Sur – or how I almost got to his heart and almost stepped on Pfeiffer Beach, but alas – couldn’t actually go there!
On our first day in Monterey, we decided to go around the town and then ride along coastline #1 and go through Carmel and finally get to Big Sur. The plan was to see the sunset on Pfeiffer Beach or other beautiful location overlooking the ocean and the beaches at the foot of the mountain. Our main mistake was that we underestimated the distances (once again) and we had not planned the itinerary properly – like the places to stop, rest, make pics at, have lunch etc. Overall, the whole trip could have been much better planned, but we decided to go with the flow and be spontaneous and stuff. On this particular day, we underestimated how beautiful and interesting the ocean-side of Mid California is and on our way we had to stop every 15-20 minutes, so we lost a lot of time and when we realized we would miss the sunset, we basically rushed towards Big Sur and Pfeiffer Beach and we never stopped at all in the woods that surrounded us – well, I shot a few bridges and bays, but there was definitely something more to be shot: the centuries-old redwood trees, the winding river, the pretty parks, and the cozy bungalows.
Rocky Creek Bridge, Big Sur, California
Shortly before we reached Big Sur, namely on Big Sur Station the road ahead was closed. Yes, because why bother watching the news or getting informed beforehand? We could have known that Pfeiffer Canyon bridge was buried under a massive landslide.
The sadness, anguish and anger that caught me were infinite. The feeling of insignificance and how small we are crushed me. Besides, once again during this trip, I realized how hard it was to carry your around your work while traveling and how much time of the day you spend at it in hotel rooms, rather than hauling in the woods or on beaches. I was almost crying, crushed by sadness, because we had to go back to Monterrey anyway, because the next day we were heading to a new direction back North and the realization that I missed the opportunity to see the place I had dreamed of visiting for decades was killing me softly inside.