Big Sur, the hump protruding from California after Monterey Bay, is amazing. It’s basically a wilderness area sitting on top of prime real estate along the Pacific, with a surprisingly low population and shockingly high cliffs.
Sadly, the perfect clear and water is too dangerous to swim in (let alone reach), so visitors must satisfy themselves with azure fantasies.
We had hoped to spend Thanksgiving at Big Sur, but so did lots of other people so all the good places were booked up.
Having attempted to stay at one campground, which can only accept reservations ten days in advance owing to a precarious entry bridge over the sometimes swollen Big Sur River, we had to go.
The staff was friendly, but the place was a Big Disappointment. Sitting in a dark forest with no means of disposing of sewage or water, the campground felt a million miles away from the startling beauty of the Redwoods and coast.
So further south we went, on towards San Luis Obispo and the Central Coast.
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