On to Los Angeles - Pebble Beach

I left San Francisco during the morning rush hour and headed south on the Pacific Coast Road (Route 1) toward Los Angeles - more of twisty roads interspersed with beautiful views of the Pacific. I stopped for lunch at the Whale City Bar and Grill just outside Davenport (not to be confused with Davenport, Iowa) and had a good piece of pie for dessert. Seeing it in the display case, I thought I was ordering blueberry, but it looked and tasted like blackberry; when I asked the waitress what it actually was, she explained to me, "It's olliberry. It's a lot like blackberry and it grows just down the road." In any case, it was quite delicious. "A piece of good pie by any other name. . . ."

I also passed through Castroville and stopped off to buy some fruit at a small produce market. Castroville's main claim to fame, proclaimed in a big sign, is, "The artichoke capital of the world."  Being the artichoke capital of the world doesn't seem like such a great honor, but I suppose you have to work with what you've got.

A little later I stopped at a state campground (I just didn't want to do another night of KOA) and confirmed my expectation that I would probably not be able to get a last-minute campsite on the Sunday of Labor Day weekend.

I was getting hungry around 6:30, and drove into the next town, which was Pebble Beach, in search of food. What I found was a sort of higher class New Hope. The main street was lined with expensive boutique clothing stores. My favorite one was the store selling very fancy ladies multicolored boots. Why do the ladies get all the fancy clothes in bright colors while we men are limited to blacks and browns and dark shades of other colors?
There were some cafes and coffee shops, and a bar still open, and there were many tourists just wandering up and down the streets, even though most of the stores were closed.
I walked several blocks down towards the beach so I could see the sunset. Along the way I passed a few large but very cute cottages, one of which was labeled Hansel and Gretal. I was quite surprised; it had never even occurred to me that Hansel and Gretal might have lived in Pebble Beach.
I continued my walk down towards the beach and got there just in time to see the sun disappear into a bank of clouds just above the Horizon. It was not a great sunset, but it was pretty good.

Still with no place to camp, I drove around town until I found a quiet street separated from a fancy house by a big hedge, and I parked there for the night and slept in the car. No one bothered me, and I had a good night's sleep.