Among the thoughts swirling around when thinking of an important event in our love life is, where to? Katherine and I discovered that if we travel somewhere a la mini adventure, that we’ll have an infinitely greater chance of remembering the day better. Valentine’s this year, was such a trip.
Upon criss-crossing the country for some photography commissions, I remember reading in a travel magazine about this funky little Northern California town called Bolinas. It was fabled to be a beautiful coastal surf town just North of Muir Beach and had the townsfolk infamous for taking down the directional signs off of their highway perches. It’s true. They were hidden in hopes of having traffic float by. Earthy, anti-modern, and delightfully slow are words that wrap around Bolinas.
It’s located above San Francisco by about an hour and a half with a similiar route you’d follow to Muir Woods. Along the way on famous Highway One, you’re bound to see cows happily grazing along the thin coastal road skirting the ocean, lazy golden Pacific sun beams and California condors looping in the sky.
When we rolled up to our little two bedroom inn, we were pleasantly surprised to see an old world house with rickety, nearly New England style, flair. Aging coffeepot, decade old magazines, stark window light in a used pink kitchen, a bedroom full of red velvet and glow from the central window over looking main street. Main street, I should say, is a small and interesting world with the occasional local foot shuffle and weathered facade of small time restaurants and gift shops. The town itself, has the feeling of proud deep roots of creativity, yet the market to outside tourism is almost non-existant. An interesting mix that allured us there. Population around 1600…