Holiday Haven, Jan. 2020

Allie has once again given our family a Christmas Holiday. This year, we'll be driving north and spending a few days relaxing at a home perched high above the Pacific Ocean. No city lights for us on this vacation. No sirens in the distance. No hot-rodders squealing their tires on Harvest Drive. 
We'll be at the end of Nook Road.  The very last house.  

As usual, you're invited to come along. 

As the roads we travel diminish in dimension, our expectations escalate. I hope you can share part of our pleasure as we arrive. 

 Heading north on the Motorway

Still on the divided highway, approaching the Pacific Ocean, peninsula, and islands.

We've turned on to a smaller side road, but one that is still fairly busy. 

Another turn off to a slightly smaller, quieter road. 

Farther back still. As likely to see horse riders here as cars. The peninsula we're on is high and rocky. 

Now the pavement has given way to gravel...

...which becomes noticeably narrower as we go. 

Finally, one last turn-off on to one-lane wide Nook Road. We approach the end of our journey at a walking pace...it's so hard to wait...

...until finally, we come around one last corner and arrive.  

Nook Road doesn't appear on this map but Jeanne has drawn an arrow that shows the  approximate location of our holiday house.

Let's go in...

Notice the plants on the left by the window.  

Yes, it's a very leggy tomato which has grown to the rafters above the room. It shares it's pot with a beginning banana tree. 

Here's the feature of the house I like best.  The very large deck. I'm going to spend a lot of time out here. 
I don't know if the land between the edge of the drive way and the ocean should be called a cliff or not. It's not bare rock. It has lots of trees and vegetation growing out of it, but is way too steep to climb down.  I'd guess we are 40 or 50 yards above the water.  

There were no boats in the harbor when we arrived, but 10 boats were anchored around it during our second evening there.   

I had fish 'n chips for dinner, my sunglasses are off, and my feet are up. I am restoring my tissues* with a beverage at the table on the deck. The sun is setting and a light, cool breeze quivers the cabbage palms.  

* A favourite P. G. Wodehouse-ism. 

What a feeling.  I would never have dreamt that I'd ever see such a sight. 

Our hosts have red lights on the walls. I think it gives the living room a cozy feeling.
See you in the morning.      -djf