Due to a hectic turn of events (to be explained in turn) this brief survey would be the most either of us would see of the elusive beach. It was several hundred feet long and set into a cove guarded by two walls of rocks that stretched about 100 yards into the ocean. Several smaller monoliths jutted out of the water not far from where the swells started breaking on the sandbar, and the outer perimeter was cordoned off with a thick submarine kelp garden. At this point I gave up on finding a better Jade Cove (we later convinced ourselves we had indeed found the real one earlier) and I set off back towards the car startling several more lizards who had assumed the monster had only passed through.
After reaching the car, we headed down the road stopping at the parking lot of Sandollar Beach. However, before exiting the car we realized several small things were missing the back seat. Nothing anyone in their right mind would bother stealing, a box of cheerios, a box of tissues, and a bag of irreplaceable souvenirs from our stay at the lighthouse to include precious Belgian chocolates shipped directly from Belgium. After taking everything out of the car and sorting through it, we confirmed that the stuff was indeed missing. The most likely explanation for the dissapearances was that they were forgotten when I transferred all of my stuff back from temporary storage in Micki's car after the night in Santa Cruz. There was a remote chance that the bag of trinkets was left on the island as neither of us could picture ever putting it in the car. At this point we texted Micki and emailed Lighthouse Ed, and nervously awaited the fate of our belongings.
We quickly restructured our plans. We would forego Sandollar Beach for now, make a quick drive to the southern end of Big Sur to see the castle everyone had told us about, by then we would hopefully get confirmation from Micki and head back to Mountain View to retrieve our stuff. The remainder of the plan was somewhat open depending on time. Either we would come back to Big Sur or we would head to Sequoia.
We enacted our plan immediately after putting all of the stuff back in the car. The drive down Highway 1 was insane. I'll just say that Big Sur is a place where the speed limit is enforced by the laws of physics, not the police. It took a little while to reach, but we finally got to the castle. It is apparently a State Park complete with an Imax theater-equipped visitor's center and shuttle buses up to the actual castle complex. After paying the admission fees for a 1.5 hour "beginner's" tour, we quickly grabbed some food from the cafeteria, ate, and caught our scheduled bus.
To be direct, the Hearst Castle is nothing more than a state sanctioned tourist trap. It was built by an immensely wealthy man before it was unethical to take artifacts from other countries and plaster them all over your house. A chimera of stolen property, the castle sits far above the coast on a hilltop symbolizing how far from reality one of the richest men of the 20th century was.
The bus ride was narrated, and taught us about how Hearst also loved animals and thought it wise to take them from their homes as well. Apparently the world's biggest private zoo was once here. Before long we were at the top of the hill where we met our two tour guides. One was a middle aged man who spoke with the nerdiest slow midwest accent imaginable. His pants were cinched up high and he wore goofy vacant expressions. The other was a secret agenty looking woman who said nothing and sported dark Ray-Bans. Our group of 40, armed with several thousand dollars worth of unecessary photographic equipment (mine included) started our tour next to the famous Neptune pool.
It's adorned with imitation Greek sculptures. We walked through some of the gardens, from which the highest tower of the castle was visible as our tour guide talked about the things Hearst liked.
The tour then wound through one of the guest houses, three of which orbitted the massive main house. The guest house was like a small hotel. I'm not sure if it was intended for one guest or many. We lagged behind, closer to the secret agent tour guide than the one that was talking about the house.
After exiting back into the gardens, the facade of the castle was finally in view. Honestly I don't remember which culture it was taken from. It was from a church of some kind. Two towers guarded the main portcullis. We walked aroud to a side entrance and started our walk in the castle proper.
We entered into some kind of hall adorned with sculptures. An obnoxious German-looking tourist exclaimed the name of one of the sculptures, then spent the duration of our time in the room photographing it from every possible angle. He received several scoldings from the secret agent to stay on the carpet (I think that was te first time we heard her speak).
The sculpture in question.
The ceiling.
We walked through some concrete passageways (where we learned that the castle was made from concrete and etched to look like block) into the feast room.
The last room we saw was actually pretty. It was an expansive indoor pool and unfortunately the name escapes me.
With that we exited the building and were coralled towards the bus. The nerdy tour guide informed us that there was so much more to see and that we should come back to do one of the other more advanced tours some time. The bus returned us to the visitor center where we baught our customary magnet. At the checkout the cashier asked Pri if she would like to donate a dollar to the Hearst Castle nonprofit. Pri smiled politely and declined. Skipping our Imax presentation about Hearst, we more or less ran to the car and started our long drive back up the coast, racing the late day sun so we could watch it set at Julia Pfeiffer State Park.
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