Imagine a Bay Area resident who has traveled the world several times over, but has failed to see his own proverbial backyard. That's basically me = other than Mission Carmel and passing through on my way to Big Sur, I had never properly been to Carmel, CA. Some places you just take for granted (like San Francisco's cable cars; I still haven't been on them, and I used to live there). People always told me how nice it was, so it was time to see for myself, eternal tourist that I am.
"Come on Dada, let's see Carmel!" (or, as Christopher pronounces it, "Carmeeel")
Small town America... on the beach, and near large town America.
There were vintage fire trucks out by the fire station, and my son loves automobiles.
Only in Carmel.
Your truly with the tyke.
Pure, unadulterated joy.
Unfortunately some party-pooper lady told me I had to take him down, despite all of the people before Chris that sat up there. Some people...
Time to walk the streets.
My wife said Carmel Bakery had delicious wares, so we entered.
Around the corner from the bakery.
The candy shop(pe) in the same vicinity.
A strange part of Carmel devoid of humans...
Hog's Breath Inn, owned by Clint Eastwood.
Their pale ale is mighty tasty.
Chris liked the French fries.
We drove downhill to the beach.
Chris had seen the ocean before, but never up close.
Pebble Beach golf course in the distance (somewhere I HAD been before).
Last stop in Carmel = the mission.
Fr. Serra's grave, at the altar.
Last stop of the day, in nearby Monterey = Dennis the Menace Playground!
Aaaaaaand, he's off!
"This place is legit, Dada!"
More 2015 odds and ends coming up soon.