← PreviousExploring Highway 1 and Bixby Bridge: a scenic road trip on the US West CoastA man who was clearly homeless came up to us while we were hesitating over which gear to buy. He'd immediately spotted that we were foreigners and began giving us advice on the quality of the products.
"Right now, with this cold, you're better off with this one; it's much more suitable," he suggested, showing us an enormous sleeping bag.
We thanked him very warmly and left with our sleeping bag under our arm. We then settled into a little Mexican restaurant where the waitress was about as friendly as a cold doorknob.
When, at the end of the meal, she tossed the bill onto the table listlessly, we were tempted not to leave a tip, but we bowed to custom and left our 15% of indignation. We spotted a hill in a small forest and decided it would be a good spot. At the very top there was a campground for travellers passing through. We parked in a corner and dropped off to sleep.
I woke at six in the morning, suffocating. I was breathing very fast and struggling for air. I immediately understood that the car was too well insulated and the air inside wasn't being renewed fast enough. I gently shook Cassandre and we opened the windows to air it out. She was in the same state as me, short of breath with a furry mouth. We may have come very close to disaster. We drove down the hill and on the road came face to face with a little family of deer. It was a magical sight in this misty forest, with the light of the rising sun piercing through the trees.
We stopped the car and admired this ordinary yet wonderful scene of nature at work. Keeping to the animal theme, we stopped at the Monterey butterfly sanctuary. We walked along a little paved street and, without warning, dozens of butterflies began fluttering around us. They were bright and colourful, each with features you could only really appreciate when they landed, which wasn't often.
We rejoined the coast and drove along it, stopping at points of interest. Downtown Monterey was very busy around noon and the beachfront promenade was invaded by strollers. We took a photo of the bust of John Steinbeck, the great author of The Grapes of Wrath and Of Mice and Men, who lived for a while in the little coastal town. We continued along our route up to Santa Cruz, a few dozen kilometres north. We'd planned to walk along the very beautiful beach, but a big surprise awaited us.
A gigantic funfair had been set up there. We melted into the crowd to enjoy this sublime sunny day too and to observe American behaviour. The first thing that struck us was how they consume. Absolutely everyone had their hands full, whether with sweets, toys or drinks, and every ride was packed, with very long queues.
The second thing that struck us was the atmosphere. Everyone seemed calm and relaxed, there to have a good time. There were no big groups of youngsters as in some European countries, as there would have been in France. The atmosphere was resolutely family-oriented and alcohol was of course banned. We passed police officers on patrol enjoying the day while keeping a watchful eye on the crowd.
We walked the length of the place and back without spending a penny, like the good French people we are. We didn't feel obliged to spend money to have a good time. We had the sun, the beach and a temperature pleasant enough for people to be lying on their towels in swimsuits. What more could you want? We'd gladly have stayed, but the clock was ticking and we had to head closer to San Francisco.