Big Sur Is The California Of Our Dreams

My parents never take California for granted.

They moved to the Bay Area only six months before I moved to Turkey, and I believe that they are on a similar adventure as I am. They try to do something exciting every weekend—maybe biking, or going on a local hike, or taking a trip to one of the many wild places in this part of California.

When I visit, they take me to all the places they loved the best. Last year, we hiked in the Marin Headlands, we biked in Golden Gate Park, we explored Bodega Bay and Stinson Beach and the Muir Woods.

This year, they planned a weekend trip for the three of us—Hillary was in LA and hates long car rides anyway—to Monterey and Carmel and Big Sur.

I didn’t know much about these places. I trust my parents’ good sense and love an excuse to see somewhere new—especially when someone else is driving. (I don’t like driving.)

Carmel was charming and I’ll write more about my personal Monterey highlight in a separate post. But the true gem of the trip was the drive up to Big Sur, a piece of California that holds so much of the state’s magic. Big Sur is the California of our dreams.

The dramatic rocky coastline slithers along the road, with sheer cliffs punctuating slate colored skies and bright blue water. The beaches are an adventurous surfer’s dream, all crashing foam and curving waves. We stopped the car every few miles just so I could leap out and take pictures.

There was one man-made structure that I found as fascinating as the wild coastline. The Bixby Creek Bridge is a piece of concrete New Deal-era  infrastructure that turns its functionality into something majestic. We didn’t stop on the way past it at first; on the return drive, I insisted. I’ve since learned that it’s one of the most photographed bridges on the West Coast.

Driving up and down that thrilling Central Californian coastline was a highlight—this is what I imagine when people gush about their love of this region. Now it makes sense. THIS is why people love California.