Have you ever driven down the Pacific Highway, Highway 1 on the westernmost edge of California? It's so picturesque; but that word doesn't describe it, which is why I am not going to do a travel piece on our trip.
This is me on the beach at Carmel by the Sea, a pretty town, a rich town, a town so posh that the last time I was there, I spilled ice cream down my T shirt and then felt I couldn't go in any of the shops because the assistants might look down their noses at me.
Carmel is where The Big Sur starts. Once you're past Carmel, the hills are high to your left, and there are steep drops down to the cliffs and the beaches to your right. The winding road clings to the sides of the hills. And it's wild. I mean it's actually wild. I didn't realise until I was there that it is sparsely populated and that artists and writers are drawn to live there, so although there are very few houses visible, there are lots of galleries.
If you look very closely, you will see the road up to the left of the picture below:
On the first night we slept in a luxurious yurt (well, it was California):
This was the ceiling, supposedly so you could look at the stars: