Travels with Mr. Coe: Carmel-By-The-Sea

Have you ever visited a place so ridiculously over-the-top fancy that it doesn't seem like real life? A place where nobody seems to work and everybody drives really, really slowly in expensive cars, and buys exorbitantly over-priced foodstuffs just because they can? A place where you ask for "inexpensive lunch options" and are recommended a Michelin-starred restaurant that only has a three-course prix fixes menu? Welcome to Carmel-By-The-Sea, a "seaside village" that operates in its own dimension of reality.

Source

I had a couple of errands to run down in the Monterey area this weekend, so I decided to bring Mr. Coe along and make a real outing of it. Part of Carmel's charm -- and what makes it so attractive to me, at least -- is that it's outrageously dog-friendly. Dogs are allowed at most restaurants/cafés/wineries with outdoor seating, the Carmel Valley hosts a couple of awesome dog-friendly hiking/outdoor recreation spots, and Carmel Beach is dog-friendly as well. Off-leash dog-friendly. You have to deal with ridiculous WASP-y rich people in sweater sets and khaki shorts and that horrible feeling that everybody's secretly judging your junky old Toyota Tercel and half-feral dog, but you know what? SO WHAT. Off-leash dog-friendly.

Excitable labradoodle, Carmel Highlands in the background.

It was a beautiful day down on the shore, as you can see. Carmel's beach really is breathtaking; you come out of the pine grove and are met with beautiful white sands and turquoise surf. Can you imagine what it must have been like for Junipero de la Serra to sail into this shallow little bay in the mid 1700s? It's no wonder the Jesuits established one of the first California missions here; the site is gorgeous.*

Asilomar State Park at the point, über-fancy Pebble Beach golf course further inland.

The beach was jam-packed with families. Roscoe and I must been a weird and wonderful sight to behold; Roscoe whining and crying and running in circles out of sheer ecstasy, me tromping with my beach chair (from REI! super light-weight, with a shoulder strap! I keep it in the trunk of my car!), wearing my big white sun hat and my finest "weekend wear"**, jacket and long pants. Everybody was wearing bathing suits; the only parts of my body getting sun were my feet and wrists. VICTORIAN CHIC. We sat alone and I read a book and Roscoe guarded me. The only other person I spied who wasn't part of a group or (human) couple was this shirtless dude wandering around the beach with a poofy lap-dog in his arms, drinking a bottled beer and singing to himself. I wish I'd taken a picture, what a weirdo.

Roscoe asking me "CAN I GO. CAN I GO CHASE THE DOGS. CAN I GO." and me responding
"WHAT HAVE I BEEN TELLING YOU TO GO AHEAD AND DO FOR THE PAST TWO HOURS.
GO AND LET ME READ MY PERIOD PIECE MURDER MYSTERY/POLITICAL INTRIGUE
AND CRIME THRILLER PLEASE."

After hanging out down at the beach, Roscoe and I walked around the downtown shopping district for a bit. Let me tell you: Roscoe was the BELLE BEAU OF THE BALL of downtown Carmel that afternoon. Everybody commented on how pretty handsome he was, and how well behaved he was, and how cute he was, and how all-around super great he was. And it was true, he was wonderful. He heeled as we walked along the sidewalks and sat at every intersection before we crossed. He was very polite with the old rich people who stopped to pet and talk to him, and didn't even freak when a baby grabbed his tail (I did stink eye the parent, though). 

Roscoe really does feel right at home in Carmel. He's most comfortable in either wild and desolate landscapes or laps of luxury and comfort. Go figure. 

* Though I have a heart-felt love and appreciation for the California missions and their history, I respect and honor that these are also sites of mourning for the indigenous peoples of California, representative of centuries of enslavement, suffering, trauma, and (arguably) genocide. A subject of interest for another blog post, another day.

** Yes, I'm self-conscious when I go to Carmel. Yes, I was wearing my best "casual" clothes. Yes, I applied makeup before leaving the house. Yes, it all ran down my face once sunscreen got in my eyes at the beach.