San Francisco - The Mission

The Mission. It's a fragrant place. The air is filled with wafts of burritos and fresh graffiti paint. Everything is vibrant - the hibiscus, the houses, the alley walls, people's innovation. The history is present and the freshness is rife.

Of course, my agenda was food driven. I inhaled the bread pudding, drank the finest of chocolate and shared a feast of Eastern European fare. Cultures are mixed and so very welcome here. Flavours are too.

It's a real place. An open table kind of place. The kind of place that serves up everything you imagine a hip San Fran to be. I would live there if I could. I'd work at Bi-Rite where you would find me happily arranging the flowers, sneaking fresh figs into my belly and taking lunch breaks in Dolores park.

That would be nice.

To Eat:

Tartine Bakery - Try the raspberry bread pudding... Craftsman + Wolves - lovely for lunch. Dandelion - Chocolate! Bar Tartine - Eastern European Cuisine. Bi-Rite Market - Groceries / Picnic food. Bi-rite Ice-cream.

To Do: Dolores Park - Take a picnic and enjoy the view! Valencia St - lovely, never ending independent stores. Heath Ceramics - showroom and store for local handmade ceramics.

Florida Keys

It was the Fourth of July weekend and we had decided to head down to the Florida keys. Quite the known death trap. We were camping. It was summer. We were most likely going to die of heat exhaustion...

Very rarely do I play the role of negative Nancy towards the idea or places of travel. However this time, I was in a judgey mood. My expectations were low. I had imagined the place heavy with key lime pie eating tourists, the main street lined with tacky store fronts and filthy broken glass filled gutters. I imagined sweat constantly pouring from every pore in my skin and having to deal with weather - there was a tropical storm circulating, his name was Arthur, and he wasn't all that far away.

Surprisingly, my exceedingly low expectations served me well. And I was impressed. So impressed that I couldn't get enough. I decided to apologize to the keys. Each and every one of them, but in particular, Key West. So I breathed in and appreciated every bit it had to offer and smiled in all of it's beauty. We were in Florida. How could I even complain?

So, I said sorry to it's crystal blue waters and its teeny snorkelable coral reef islands. I said sorry to its beautiful old colonial homes, the remarkably tourist free streets (it was too hot), its hidden water front dining and cocktail decks, the very welcomed coconut water street carts and the tropical storm free sunny sky days (Arthur decided to stay away).

I said sorry to the house of Hemingway, pop up stores, key lime pie on a stick (I became that tourist) and beautifully lit up skies on the actual night of the fourth.

I said sorry so much, that I knew that I was so wrong to have to say sorry in the first place. I had my grumpy pants on before I left, and for that, I was ashamed.

Thankfully the Keys were a good sport and decided to forgive me. Our entire weekend was wonderful. And, I am pretty sure I even heard the Keys whisper to me that they really wanted me to come back. Soon. However, the next time I wasn't allowed to say sorry. So, I promised that I would. And that I would leave my grumpy, judgey, negative Nancy pants at home.

Places to not be sorry about:

To eat:

Blue heaven - great for brunch!

Louie's Backyard - dinner and cocktails

Cuban Coffee Queen - coffee and lunch

El Siboney - a proper Cuban feast

La Creperie - another great breakfast spot

To see:

Salt Island Provisions - a gorgeous locally crafted pop up store

Hemingway house - so inspiring!

To do:

Bahia Honda state park - great beach

Kayak from Islamorada to Indian Island

Snorkel Indian Island

Sky Lights

Oh 4th of July. You are bright, patriotic, wasteful, brilliant, explosive and grand. The sky celebrates. We celebrated with you. This year, it went for two days and involved coconuts, camping, grilled corn and late night drinks at Louie's Backyard. And sparklers. Plus a late night run to the park to illegally/legally let off some firecrackers. I will miss that next year. United States of America, happy birthday to you.

Big Sur

We had been driving for 6 hours with little fuel left in our car and our tummies. But we didn't care. Or at least I didn't. Over the next mountain, would be the mother of all places to find myself on our West Coast road trip. A place that I had heard about via Kerouac and once met friends. The only place that would make a vegetarian like me settle for chicken cup-a-noodles for dinner. I didn't need to search for anything else. The car and my tummy could wait. I had found what I was looking for. It was time to rest and be still.

The sea swell is bigger and the water stays cold here. Red woods meet cliff sides and campgrounds stay full. It's a place that allows you to comfortably retract from civilisation but where you can still find organic milk for your tea and the most memorable pain au chocolat for breakfast. The sun sets over the ocean and gum trees grow the way they would at home - with no hesitation and with plenty of falling, heavily scented leaves. The birds fly in flocks, the elephant seals wiggle and spar and gardens of wild flowers grow atop the hills.

We didn't have an agenda. Just to camp by the cliffs, among the trees, to drive south then north again and to explore every place in between. We found many places worth noting - a deli lunch in San Simeon, a field full of yellow, a lucky last camp site, a sunset worthy dirt road, a waters edge restaurant, gum nuts, and eventually gas (petrol) for $6 a gallon.

I had been searching for a place like Big Sur. It didn't let me down. I often romanticise places and their memories, building up the positive parts in my mind and mistakenly leaving plenty of room for heightened expectations. But Big Sur, I really do feel, is a place that will always live up to the size and beauty of its name. I certainly wasn't disappointed on arrival and I know that my next visit will be just as good as the time that I found myself for the first time there, content by its beauty - rested and still.