SF Diaries - Day 4 - Big Sur

Sunday. And the sun was out. I definitely had plenty of left-over-from-lasttime sightseeing that I wanted to complete in the city.

But a colleague offered to drive us to Big Sur - and so, that's where we were the whole day.

What a stunning place. As we left the city and the suburbs, and drove into the country side, I saw ranches, and cows, and rolling hills, and then deeper towards the mountains, the fog was appearing. I was slowly getting breathless (with the sights) and our first stop was Pebble Beach.

It was stinking. Of sea weed. But there were millions of birds, kinds I'd never seen before. I took about 400 photos that day.

After pebble beach, we got onto the famous 17-mile drive - which is dotted with fancy resorts, golf courses and has about 21 points which are spectacular view points. Included mysterious names like 'The Lone Cypress' and 'The Ghost Tree' and China Rocks.

The sea was unruly. Crashing waves. But a gorgeous blue. I can't describe how stunning it was.

After the 17-mile drive, we went on further south, deeper into Big Sur. The trees were tall. There were mountains on one side, and the sea on the other.

The sun began dipping by about 4:30 and we saw the sunset from a high-up point, overlooking a bridge taking the road deeper into the mountains, they were getting higher and higher and we were overlooking a curvy coast going on for miles.

I felt peaceful and magicked.

Finally, it was dark, and we had reached the heart of Big Sur. There was a national forest there.

Big Sur has a special significance. From my old days.

Let's see how I can explain - Jim Morrison admired a Beat poet called Jack Kerouac. Whose book 'On The Road' I'd read and was blown away by. I own another book my Jack Kerouac. Called Big Sur. Hadn't read it, but I knew that Big Sur had been a place of magic and hippies for generations.

It was freezing by now, and pitch black. We came back out from the mountains to the road along the sea - and I died. The moon was out. Shining and reflecting in the sea. And the stars were in millions.

Nobody else seemed remotely interested, but my heart was aching to stop. I requested one last stop. I'll just be two minutes, I said and I ran out of the car.

The view was breathtaking. The moon, its reflection in the sea, the biting cold wind, and the stars. I couldn't make any pictures, it was too dark.

I just stood there, and looked up at the sky. There was something inside me that was exploding, and I just let it spill out of me.

I tasted what life must have been like in these mountains 40 years ago. The long-haired beautiful hippies, smoking weed, making love and writing poetry. I lived it for a minute.

More photos here.