Pt Montara Hostel to Monterey Bay

Exposure provides availability to the conditions of life.

I stayed the evening in the hostel at Point Montara Lighthouse.
To the north base of the lighthouse I sat and contemplated life and this trip which presented a model of it, over some coffee and pipe tobacco, sitting on one of several chairs in a cemented clearing. The evening was comfortable and convenient as a thick fog effectively insulated the days heat. I soon slouched down and rested my neck's back on the top edge of the chair.


The lights that shown from the faceted house above was a mix of haunt and psychedelic imagery. It reminded me of the rotor on an MH-53 helicopter, but cut through the air with slow and stuttered
movement. I found satisfaction in the ease at which the smoke rings formed, the fog and quiet air creating the perfect conditions of persistency and calm. I felt like a wizard observing a waking dream scape, decoding the story that the surrounding elements described. The crashing waves roared in the near distance below.

It was nice to sit there at the coast's edge. I hadn't done such a thing since I was 18. Among many, I thought of this adventure as a model for the rest of my life. Like this fog I could not see what lies ahead, though I could hear it. All I could do was pick a route, develop the conditions to facilitate my follow and be ready in mind, body and soul for whatever comes along on the way. Travelling presents a vehicle of constant change, therefore providing different choices- be it adversity or desire- all opportunities to evolve.

At the Pt. Montara hostel I had the pleasure of meeting yet another adventurous soul, Rina Kor. Photographer. Writer. World Traveler. Explorer. A lovely, lovely person. Rina has followed the wind from Asia to Africa. Her stories verified my suspicions of where an open mind and heart will lead. We spoke into the night about life, hopes and struggles. I found myself at ease with this woman, a comforting place of timeless security so seldom experienced amongst the company of a stranger. I remembered, at least in that moment, that intimacy knows no boundaries as it is an expression of love, which is infinite. I remembered that this was something I could strive for, an objective slightly less abstract from nibana.


We are all interwoven and destined to help one another in a given life. Whether direct or indirect, circumstances are mere details in the eventuality of the choice that results and defines the rate at which we grow.

Grateful the next day and ready to continue the road south, I moved on with the objective of getting to Monterey Bay.

Cannery Row, Monterey Bay

An empty stomach, an empty page, and two full plates.

Fisherman's Warf