Our journey of exploration down the coast of California, the home state I lived in for so long but never really knew as well as I should have, continued today. We started in Monterey and ended in San Simeon, and it was another “wow, this is amazingly nice, and I lived here all that time without appreciating it?” experience.

The morning was given over to a great institution, and ended in a funky little Mexican restaurant, and in between was one amazing brush with nature.

The Monterey Bay Aquarium is profoundly impressive. For what it allows us to see, and watch and study, and the investment and labor, and for the organization of it.

The first thing I noticed about it, even before I got to all the sea life, was how well-thought-out the experience is. A cheerful young person (a marine biology student?) greets you outside the door and hands you a map of the place, plus a list of all the activities for the day (“otter feeding at noon,  film and discussion on seahorses at 1 …”) and it continues like that. The info sheet tells you how to get updates via text message on doings during the day. “Sharks now visible on the second floor …”

The place is amazingly well-staffed. If you have a question about … anything … you just turn around and look for someone in khaki and a vest and she (and it’s almost all “shes”) will be there to answer your questions.

These volunteers, and I assume most of them are volunteers because there are so many of them, are passionate and well-informed, and they enhance the experience. I was kind of proud of them, too, as the aquarium filled with people, many (most?) of them foreigners, and the volunteers were there to direct and explain and help. And it’s good that people from France and Italy are in your town, in your aquarium. It says that you have worldwide recognition, and that people went out of their way to come to your place — and you give them a good experience, and I don’t know how anyone can leave that place without saying “I just saw some really cool stuff.”

I had been to the aquarium once before, about 20 years ago, and it’s bigger and better. To be able to walk up to the plexiglass and stare at a hammerhead shark gliding past, and jelly fish and schools of other fish, and a giant sea turtle … fascinating.

The stars of the aquarium appear to be the sea otters and seahorses. One prominent tank given over to the former is near the entrance, and a whole wing is given over to the latter.

I was proud of that aquarium, even though it has nothing really to do with me — other than it exists in California, my home. It is clean, and well-run, and modern and cutting edge, all those things we once considered part of the landscape of being Californians, before our infrastructure began crumbling and our housing got old and we went bust.

I was fine with paying $29 to wander around in there, if it helped keep up such a great, fun and impresive place

Then, a stop for lunch at an upstairs restaurant with a great view of the bay. More artichokes for Leah, some caprese salad for me, and we were headed down the coast.

The 1 from Monterey to San Simeon is particularly spectacular. If you sit on the passenger side of the vehicle while heading south, and I did, you can hardly ever look out the window without seeing some stunning vista … dense forest, white-sand beaches, a drop of maybe 1,000 feet into a churning ocean with waves beating on rocky outcrops and islands.

The most impressive vista, I thought, was that overlooking (what I later found out to be) the Point Sur lighthouse station, just south of Big Sur.

Imagine an expansive stretch of grassland, with a few cattle grazing on it, which is just below cliffs, and which gently tilts down towards a pristine white beach with the sort of great sand that kids who grow up in California assumes exists all over the world but which, in fact, is rare. Not volcanic, not rocks, not mud, fine white sand …

And in the middle of that vista is a huge jutting rock with buildings atop it. Turns out it is a former naval station, and still a functioning lighthouse, and you reach the little plateau at the top up a steep one-lane road — and I would move in there tomorrow if I could. We have a picture of it, but the link has one, too. Anyway, I’m thinking “Eden before the fall, except on the shore” … and you can’t beat that.

Our other great experiece was running into the elephant seals. Leah had a recollection of where they were, a few miles north of San Simeon, and as we got closer we could see dozens of cars pulled over, and an entire Dutch motorcycle club (I am not making this up),  and as Leah said, “that’s where the elephant seals are!” I could see dozens of enormous blobs flopped in the sand … and those were the seals.

Elephant seals were nearly extinct 100 years ago, but they have made a comeback, and now they come to rest from their nautical travels at this place north of San Simeon. Theyb are not there year round, but they come through in August, and we were lucky.

They are the sort of huge, wild creature that you don’t expect to find in 21st century California. Those sorts of animals are in South America or Africa, maybe. Not 100 yards west of Highway 1.

But yes, they are. We got out of the car, walked up to the fence that keeps people from wandering down to creatures that weigh 5,000 pounds and have some serious teeth … and they are just hanging out. Laying there. Resting, literally, from a year otherwise given over to dives down to the continental shelf for food. They can hold their breath for up to two hours and dive as deep as 5,000 feet … and they are amazing, blob-like creatures who must be marvels of oceangoing animal life in the water, but struggle to make it a few feet out of the ocean, pulling themselves forward with their flippers.

An amazing concept. We were there for half an hour, and I believe we have a bit of video of a seal coming out of the water and hauling himself up to the pod of 50 or so seals. I will come back here and link to it if we can get it posted.

On in to San Simeon, to the best motel in the planet — a mini fridge, workout room, amazing sea views, chairs outside your door to watch the sunset (for $79 a night)… and the kids came over at 7 and we drank a bottle of chardonnay before going to the little family-run Mexican resto across the way … and it was a fine conclusion to another inspirational day of California tourism.