As we recently drove south down Highway 1, leaving Monterey and heading for our next stop of Cambria, just south of the famous Hearst Castle, I was reminded of our first visit to this area, over 21 years ago, in 1992.
Chris and I were still living in London, separately, we had only known each other a few months, and we had a trip planned which included California, the Canadian Rockies and New York. We were driving slowly up the coast from LA to San Francisco, taking over a week, stopping for hikes and picnics along the way. One day we pulled in at the pretty seaside town of Carmel. We found a deli and stocked up on picnic items. We had our blanket and the cooler for food, and were looking for a nice beach to have our picnic and relax a bit. We spotted a sign for the beach, and walked through the very posh (for a beach!) entrance, with our picnic cooler and blanket. A nice security guard stopped us and politely asked if we had reservations or tickets. For a beach? “No” we replied, “we’re just looking for the beach to have a picnic. We saw the sign for Pebble Beach. Where’s the beach please?”
“Beach? This isn’t a beach, it’s a golf course! And there’s a world championship going on now!”
Huh, what? There’s no beach at Pebble Beach?! How can this be? But we’re not golfers and had no clue!
This place will forever be known to us as Pebble No Beach.
Want to keep reading about meaningful travel? Click below to get our free newsletter. Our promise to you: we will never spam you or sell your email!