coastal things

 

I bitch a lot about living here, but then people ask me where I'd rather be, and I'm like... idk.

There are worse places to be in a pandemic than a coastal state with access to endless coastal hikes and the charming coastal towns that they surround.

Getaway #1 was a gray day in Mendocino. Creating new memories in one of the cutest towns I've visited. Misty forest hikes, red driftwood on the beach, crashing waves on rocks. Pixar movies and games, creamy carbonara and apple cider packets. Random guy drinking from a paper bag against his convertible? I don't know, just keep walking. Wind. Much wind.

Fish n chips dinner with jalepeno poppers as an attempt to warm up from an Irish pub with cozy outdoor seating.

It's what I always crave when I'm by the water. Dowsed in malt vinegar, lemon juice, and hot sauce. Slathered with tartar sauce. Ketchup and whole grain mustard for the fat chips. Their sauce collection was *OK hand sign emoji*. I got the haddock, which was meatier than cod. Batter was so crispy. None of us love the chips though and saved them all to crisp up for breakfast potatoes the next morning.

Getaway #2 was a day trip to Monterey. Caught some lonesome lounging seals. Spooked a group of beached seals by waving at them. Jumped with glee at the sight of a mama otter cuddling her baby in the distance. Multimillion cliffside beach homes that I wouldn't say no to living in. Nudibranch hunting in the tide pools. I didn't find any.

But I did find this thicc sea star.

And these crabs having sex.

Somebody planted this valley of calla lilies by the beach that looks infinitely prettier in the drizzly rain.

The water was so beautifully blue, it hurt my heart. The scraggly rocks and bonsai-like trees looked like a Japanese painting.

I needed more fish n chips. Because... coast. We ended up at Sea Harvest because I almost always trust a restaurant that doubles as a market. It was pouring by the time we got there. But don't think I'm complaining because the rain spared our tide pooling adventures. We parked side by side in the empty market parking lot, ordered our fish n chips, and popped our trunks. Then we ate alone together under cover of our trunk doors, our legs dangling out the backs of our cars. Shouting over the rain pitter patter to make normal conversation about how tender and perfectly fried the fish was. I had a beer while being acutely aware that maybe it was not okay to be openly sipping on a beer in the back of my car in a parking lot. By the time we drove down the street to Julia's to get Jennie's beloved cake - which she described as an earthy chocolate-y and with texture kind of like soil and which was also a brownie - the rain was but a light drizzle. And we could huddle closer together to see what all the hubbub over this soil cake was. Nothing she described was inaccurate... I recommend you go for the hot chocolate with candy cap caramel.