Kevin would be in L.A. the week before the Fourth of July. So, we set our sights on a road trip up the coast over the long weekend. Kevin picked me up at LAX, and we drove north along the coast, where the endless blue Pacific slipped from the pristine beaches of Malibu, studded with surfers and life guard stands, into golden, rolling hills and rugged coastline.
Our first stop was Big Sur, and we got there just in time for sunset. An orange sun slid down through the trees and over the ocean, and we ate at Big Sur Bakery, on the front porch, with a votive candle flickering between us.
We woke up rested and ready to drive, hike, snap photos, and gawk at a landscape that completely stunned us. A wave of yellow wild flowers washed over the coastline. A winding path led to an abandoned beach. A waterfall pounded onto the sand below. A hidden cove swayed with its underwater kelp forest. An elusive fog drifted in, only to disappear as we rounded the next bend in the road.
We made the most of our day in Big Sur—and we were totally dazzled.
We spent the last minutes of daylight on the beach, where the sinking sun cast a light on the hills that made them glow and a reflection over the surf that sparkled.
And as if this weren’t all enough, we woke up the next morning and drove to Napa, a place that I can’t seem to shake.
We drove to the airport in San Francisco a couple days later, and even that drive was gorgeous.
The trip was magical. So, this week, as we adjusted to being back home, I baked up a batch of Big Sur Bakery scones—the likes of which we’d enjoyed two mornings in a row while we were in Big Sur. To relive the whole trip just a little bit.