Ocean Drive

By -


17 Mile Drive in the sunshine is one for the scrap book and this morning could not have been more perfect.  The route starts with the cycle path through Monterey then onto deserted roads along the beautiful coast before diving into the gated community built around Pebble Beach golf course.  Houses change hands for $40-50 million and up...a ludicrous sum but even sillier once you realise these are mostly the 2nd or 3rd homes of the megarich.  I would have given a kidney to be riding today!

The grand finale is a ride through Carmel, once the mayoral seat of Clint Westwood and now an immaculate Stepford Wives collection of expensive boutiques and high-end eating-places.  27 sweaty cyclists were about as welcome as a fart in a spacesuit!

Two of our group visited the golf club and have somehow secured a tee time for 6:20am tomorrow morning.  The cost of this is so painful that I cannot persuade either of them to actually speak it out loud.  Their smugness at getting to play on of the most famous courses in the world may diminish once they appreciate the practical implications:

They must persuade someone (that someone most definitely NOT being me) to get up and drive them 30 miles back to Pebble Beach by 5:30 am.  In addition to the unmentionable green fee they must then add the cost of renting some golf bats, buying some silly trousers, renting a cart and employing a caddy.  4 hours and many lost balls later they have to get 30 miles back to our lodgings where they must saddle up and ride one of the toughest days of the trip.  You may guess from my tone that I think they are bonkers!


Comments

  1. Marisa Fink7 May 2026 at 15:11

    I’m with you! Love your smiling selfie!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Now That's What I Call Music Vol II

By -
Image
Real Gone Kid Having arrived a little late at the start, Nick made up for it by leaving a day early.  There was a tear in my eye as I waved him off...then I realised I could take his bedroom.  This was particularly welcome since Plum's snoring was so bad last night I ended up sleeping on the sofa. Not Fair The Spanish do not appear to have any concept of 'weights and measures'.  In Blighty we have rules about such things and people to enforce them.  If you buy a pint it will contain 20 fluid ounces....or if it doesn't you are required, by law, to make a sarcastic comment to the barman.  Something like "could you fit a scotch in there?" is traditional.  Because Malaga is an area with many Brits, every bar offers a beer size called a "pinta".  If you are very VERY lucky this may indeed be a pint but usually it is just the biggest glass they have, which could be anything from about 40cl upwards.  You won't ...
Read more

When The Going Gets Tough

By -
Image
We plan our trips, as far as is practical, to enjoy decent weather but this is never a given. A bit of rain is to be expected, and nothing to be afraid of, but the forecast for Lisbon was wetter than a wet thing.  Faced with the prospect of finding shelter for building our bikes then 20 miles of sub-aqua cycling to our hotel we resolved to get a taxi. Arriving into Lisbon, there was a noticeable absence of rain so figured we might as well revert to plan A and cycle.  The promised long queues for biographic data capture didn't materialise.  Those cunning Portuguese had found a way round the problem...they didn't bother trying.  As a man who has been preparing his stool sample for several days this was a bit of a disappointment. Finding a good spot to build the bikes is always a challenge and today we came up with a corker.  We hauled the boxes off the oversized baggage belt and built them right there.  This created the tantalizing p...
Read more

The Way We Were

By -
Image
Air travel is not what it is was....unless you fly from Southend. For about 50 quid we parked in the 'premium' parking which is about 50 yards from the main terminal door.  If that doesn't take your fancy the station is also 50 yards from the door.  Easyjet is the only airline operating from Southend and this morning they had a grand total of 7 flights to get away.  Check in is 50 yards beyond the door, security another 50 and the gate...you've guessed it!  I imagine this is how it was back in the glory days of post-war air travel...though the passengers were a little more orange and botoxed than the sort of passengers boarding the flying boat to Sydney back in the day. We arrived into Malaga almost half an hour early but managed to throw that away when Nick was siphoned into the lanes for a manual passport check.  Neil and I stood and admired the many groups arriving for stag, hen and  'significant birthday' weekends while he queued and f...
Read more