Category Archives: Half Moon Bay

Restaurants, shops, people, and the other flotsam and jetsam in Half Moon Bay

The Guest House Next Door

We have a sweet little guest room in our place, but we can’t wait until we have overflow company that threatens to burst us at the seams.

We’d love to have a legitimate swim next door.

Half Moon Bay Lodge is a 3-minute walk from our place: down the driveway, around the fence, past Joe’s Diner (home of the $5.50 burger and fries… another post: stay tuned), and down their driveway.

We went over last week-end to have a look and snap some photos.

It’s beautifully appointed…

… with tiled walkways…

… and outdoor seating overlooking the HMB Golf Course.

There is a hot tub, surrounded by flower tubs: excellent for soaking cold-weary bones.

The view from the ground floor rooms are equally verdant…

… with bathrooms that are sweet, clean, and well-appointed.

Plus, their toilets don’t run. (Ours are on the “to-do” list.)

There is the always popular extra sink and in-room coffee maker.

NEVER, EVER, discount the value of the in-room coffee maker.

So, here in California, spring has sprung, the grass has riz…

I wonder where the company is?

Neighbours

We were up with the birds today, so we took the camera along on our morning walk to see who was in da hood.

The poop factory was already up and attending to business. They’re a scrappy lot — just ask “Peg-leg” (third from the left).

Except for all the hootin’ and hollerin’ first thing in the morning around here, the resident aviary tends to be a pretty peaceful lot.

The thing is, there are a LOT of birds in da hood.

Some of them are pretty ordinary little things, nothin’ special, just on the look out for an ordinary breakfast beetle or two.

But don’t let their size fool you: some of them are super models with egos the size of Texas. They know their best angles, when to puff up and hold it, and where to sit so their fluffy little bottoms catch the best up-lighting from the rising sun, dahling.

Wait! Wait! Don’t you walk away with that camera yet! Check THIS out…

Ha? Wad-i-tell-ya? I’m so gorgeous, I make MYSELF green with envy!

On the other hand, some are not so pretty as they are fascinating, preferring wisdom over beauty. How can you look part pterodactyl and not be wise?

I don’t know if pelicans are intelligent, bird-wise speaking.

But even if pelicans are dumber than a sack of scrambled hammer handles…

… they always seem to get a good chuckle out of life.

But let’s let the crow have the last laugh. They love that.

* I’m using the “u” in honour of Canada currently being the Olympic “Host with the Most.” As the Prime Minister of Canada, Stephen Harper, said regarding the games, “Go ahead and wave those flags! We’ll apologize for our immodesty later.”

On The Road to Mavericks

Mavericks Surf Contest took place today.

Mavericks is a world-renowned big wave break located one-half mile off the coast of Half Moon Bay. With waves cresting as high as 50 feet, ridiculously strong currents, dangerous rocks, shallow reefs, and bone-chilling water, Mavericks is legendary.

This isn’t Mavericks. It’s the little beach at the end of our road, but it was impressive enough. What would Mavericks be like?

The contest offers a $150,000 purse, making it the most lucrative big-wave contest in the world. The contest is not held every year and is called only when conditions are prime. Conditions were prime today.

There’s a bike path that goes from our back door to Pillar Point, so we took it. The Coastal Trail seemed like the perfect way to avoid traffic, breathe some fresh air, and get a front row seat to watch “The Men Who Ride Mountains.”

Frankly, the landmark golf ball at Pillar Point looked a LONG way off at the beginning of the trek. The spirit was willing, but I wasn’t sure my butt was up for the distance. Mavericks beach is on the OTHER side of the golf ball.

However, the pristine path was so beautiful…

… and the roar of the huge waves so invigorating along the bluffs, I just called on my own Olympic muse and decided I would ride through any discomfort. Besides, nothing was hurting yet.

Aside from weaving through insanely disorganized gaggles of oblivious pedestrians (stay tuned for another rant on this topic in the near future) and steaming horse poopy…

… the ride was incredible.

In true Northern California fashion, the scenery was simply stunning at every turn.

Truly. Stunning.

We made it as far as the harbor, where we overheard multiple conversations about how no one was being allowed around Pillar Point due to dangerous conditions. As in, people, dogs, speakers, leader boards, etc. being washed into the surf.

Still, while we didn’t actually see THE surf competition, we saw some pretty spectacular moves.

We also saw some spectacular other stuff, but those photos will have to wait for another day.

Olympic Knitting

I am an Olympic knitter. Really.

It’s because I don’t usually watch TV.

However, I am a rabid Olympics fan, and this addiction involves many, many hours of sitting in front of a TV screen. I don’t sit still well, so twenty-four years ago, I discovered that knitting is a great way to not sit still while sitting still.

So, every four years during the Winter Olympics, I knit something.

So many options, so few hours of Olympic TV.

It doesn’t always end well–I’m thinking of that hideous brown pull-over that seemed like a good idea at the time– but it’s always a marvelous exercise at the anticipation and planning stages.

One of the best parts is the trip to buy yarn. The math is pretty simple: in Canada, it was always the dead of winter, the world desaturated and, except for the distinction between slush, ice, and snow, pretty much texture neutral. The chance to wander aisles of hue and heft and soft fuzzy balls of potential loveliness was just irresistible to color-starved eyes.

And this year, I celebrated Happy Olympics Day by stopping in at fengari fiber arts in Half Moon Bay. Amazing little shop, but more on that in a future post.

For now, the trick is to choose the project based on how fat the wool is.

Fine gauge is the rage…

… but thicker is quicker.

I’m in big trouble.

And that’s all I’m going to say for now because I need to get the junk food organized for the opening ceremonies. But stay tuned… the Saga of the Knot begins tonight.

Pelican Point Therapy

You know those days that start out ordinary and just stay that way from the first morning speed bump in the parking lot to the last tomato truck in front of you on the uphill drive home?

Soon followed by the unwelcome reflection, “So, this is it? Is that all there is?”

Fluorescent lighting overhead, an itchy tag in your sweater you didn’t notice until the second meeting of the day, a lunch hour spent in a slo-mo line at the post office…