Nestled midway down along beautiful California Highway 1 exists the little hideaway town of Cayucos. In the middle of this stunning coastal town is the Pierpointe Inn. Being a creature of the Internet, when I found the inn, I booked the reservation online. The inn does not have its own website booking page, but has a company handle it for them. I’m sure the reason is there’s no high speed anywhere in the town—which is a whole other issue! But, the advantage here is that once you book, they actually pick up the phone and call you, confirming your reservations. Audrey and gang were born for the tourist trade! The Pierpointe Inn was voted one of the Top 50 Romantic Getaways by one publication and has won many other awards. They aren’t kidding. This place is more than something special. There is no impersonal hospitality industry attitude here; there is only a helpful, pleasant staff and fabulous accommodations. Audrey was able to recommend restaurants, confirm our own selections were worthwhile, provide directions in any of the towns we traveled through, and always “checked in” with us as we walked into the inn after each of our little mini-adventures. We had the feeling of a home away from home rather than just a great room. Its seaside locale was the perfect place to people watch or ignore the world. The town only has one speed—slow—I envy their mastery of the concept.
If WOM (word-of-mouth) is the best way to drum up business for the Pierpointe Inn, then I’ve already started a viral campaign by telling everyone how great it is. But…hold the phone…I just got to thinking….if everyone starts going, then I’ll never be able to get another reservation. So, on second thought, ignore this blog.
Highlights of this particular trip include the wonderful hike through Montana del Oro. I saw things I’ve never seen before, like mating rattlesnakes. Had I known there were rattlesnakes up there I certainly wouldn’t have worn my cute little Capris and no socks, ya’ know? After that, I had no desire to go any farther down that particular path—they deserve privacy too, right? I saw things I haven’t seen in a while, including a bumblebee. I saw a live quail, not the kind I find on my dinner plate, but one with feathers and everything. I got as close as I could get to the crashing waves of the tide while remaining dry so I could get some good shots. We picked up cool rocks on the seashore and found an abundance of tide pools brimming with life. We headed for an arts festival in San Luis Obispo, but got sidetracked and ended up poking around an ancient cemetery, making up stories about the people that rested within. We heard Brazilian jazz and I got a special treat when they played, “Girl From Impanema.” A crazy pelican who hangs out on the pier gave us a show and we discovered that pelicans, kinky souls that they are, seem to hang in threes, not pairs. We played in the sand and leapt from swings, knowing it was going to hurt on landing in a way doing such a thing did not hurt when we were ten.
We had three dynamite dinners: Windows on the Water in Morro Bay, Hoppe’s in Cayucos, and The Sow’s Ear in Cambria. Each a shining example of all the good things about California cuisine. But, with yet another example of why I shouldn’t go out in public, my lovely dinner companion was commenting on the ambience of the Sow’s Ear—it was filled with couples oozing the love vibe—hand holding, footsies under the table, earnest eye contact, and low conversation at every table—this was a romantic restaurant—then there were the two of us. She said something, I said something, soon we were laughing, then laughing uncontrollably, then tears were streaming down my face in my attempts to keep the sound of my laughter from spilling forth and wreaking havoc on the lovers’ romantic dining interlude until I was sure I was going to blow snot out of my nose. Call me crazy, but that was the perfect way to spend dinner.
In the evenings, after the townspeople disbursed, we were left with the sound of waves crashing on the shore and the scent of the salty sea air to fill our senses as we shared our quiet company. To experience perfection is a gift I’ll treasure on the occasion of my 45th birthday. A special thanks to a small turtle, who helped make it so.
On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but passion is the gale.
~ Alexander Pope
Published on: Jul 18, 2006
No comments:
Post a Comment