USA 10

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I get up early. I don't why, although I am conscience of the fact that we have another big day ahead of us. I take advantage of that the fact that the others are asleep to write a few postcards, post them and look around town for a travel agent. It's time for me to pay for those sins and book the flights from Vegas to San Francisco.
When I return from my stroll around Monterey's clean and humble town centre it has become clear that we are in for a very hot day. We climb into 'the beast', which is almost on fire, but then realise we have left something in one of the rooms. The owner of the motel has gone to lunch or some such, so we rely on the trust of the cleaner to let us in and search what we have left behind. She acquiesces and our stash found we head to the travel agents. Except I can't recall where abouts it is. After 10 minutes or so of looking I find it and book the tickets. We then head to a super market for supplies for the big drive down Big Sur. Needless to say we are running late.
We haven't planned our route to the letter so it's very much down to how far Nathan (our only driver) feels he is capable of driving. We probably change plan about three or four times during the course of our journey but we begin to entertain the possibility as going as far south as Santa Barbara. We would like to make it before it gets dark for a change.
So we hit the road to the sounds of Neil Young's 'Harvest. It's long great drive with a couple of stops made along the way. Refractions of light flicker off the azure blue of the perfect ocean and the sun shines all the way. Younger than Yesterday, Rubber Soul, Eric Burdon and the Beach Boys keep us company and Nathan decides we can indeed make Santa Barbara. At one point the road takes us into a depression and a horrible mist descends upon us, freezing our ass's off because the top is still down.
We make Santa Barbara just as dusk is settling in and I consider this a triumph. We book into Motel number 2 and head out into town for a few relaxing pints. Santa Barbara seems unnecessarily clean in more ways than one. We have our biggest haul tomorrow - all the way to Vegas - so maybe it's a good thing and we start to make our way home.
But what's this? I'm talking with Charlie but Nathan and Max are calling us back. They've spotted a bar. I admit that I follow with an initial reluctance but on discovering a beer garden out back my concerns are assuaged by the fact that we can simultaneously drink and smoke. It gets dirty and I'm guessing we don't leave until 2:00, although I say that arbitrarily. It finishes with Charlie going missing, Max chasing two girls into the night and me doing press-ups on the side walk. And we have to be up and on the road for eight in the morning.

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