The routine is bust open hotel room door. Kick off shoes. Shimmy off pants. Throw off already unbuttoned shirt like it’s on fire. Suit, be gone! Relaxation commence! Then I can check out the room or close the door or whatever. These articles have not moved for two and a half days.
The first night we arrived in the evening. I stayed in the room, exhausted and a bit achey. The next morning was rainy and I had a bitch of a migraine that kept me under the covers in a ball of ache and throb until 5PM.
After I regained strength and ability to stop whining I picked myself up and poured me into the car finally venturing out to the dreary coast.
Cannery Row was right down the street so I walked on to check out the restaurants and little shops. Only to remember later that Cannery Row was the title one of Steinbecks books. CULTURE!
The aforementioned migraine situation led my justification of indulging in a strawberry oreo milkshake while I walked up to the very romantic “Lovers Point Park” with my tasty date
I am terrified of dark water. I found this fear in my early teens when visiting Bading Hollow beach house of one Col Ev’s and we’d sneak around at night planning games and heists for the next day. Amazing times at that beach house. And fears realized when getting too closer to the water and realizing my heart was in my throat. Dark water monsters, the most vicious of the water monsters. So anyway I got as close as I could muster to the water and then ran back with sand filled shoes
After brushing off the sand and imaginary predators I went back up to Cannery Row and up the street to a brewery I had spotted earlier appropriately named “The Cannery Brewery.”
I had their honey wheat. It was light and refreshing, nothing spectacular alongside my bland salad and sharp ale cheddar soup.
The bartender was very attentive. I would return to this place for the service and give the food a second chance because the rest of the menu looked delicious.
I kept to myself for dinner and went on way back to bed. The hotel was nothing to note. A decent Hilton Garden Inn.
Hotels get big ratings from me when they have three things:
1. Outlets near the bed. not the desk. who cares if there are outlets by the desk. just get rid of the desks.
2. Vending machines. I don’t appreciate stocked lobby snack shops. I don’t want to have to face someone during my snack run. I’d rather let a machine eat my money and spit snack packs back at me to eat. Anonymously. Thank you.
3. Knowledgeable front desk staff who actually know the area. A front desk person should have at least one place to recommend outside of the hotel bar. I’ve found, however, even when they are useless, the cleaning crew knows whats up.
I’m off track. After my beers I headed back to the hotel and went to bed. After a walk of shame midnight snack run. Shh!