Sardine Factory, Monterey. After a shower at the Veterans Memorial Park campground.
Oops — or should I say “D’oh!”. Yet one more small drama that might have been worse. When I paid for my campsite I left my wallet at the Ranger’s station, and didn’t realise it until I reached into my pocket to pay my bill at the restaurant.
Camp registration was the last place I recalled using it. Fortunately I had my computer with me, which contains my credit card numbers (hopefully hidden somewhere only I could find it — really should password-lock this thing for trips just in case), so they could run it just from that. Embarrassing, but.
When I got back — Monterey is really fun to try to find your way around, at night, without a map, to someplace that isn’t obvious even though it’s practically at the geographical center of town — there was a note from Mr. Ranger saying he had my wallet.
But if he’s home now, he’s not answering the door and has a giant German Shepherd that really wants to break through the window and eat me alive. So I guess it’ll wait for tomorrow.
The campground was the Veterans Memorial Park, which is a lot nicer than it sounds. The oysters at the Sardine Factory were from Tomales Bay. Small and stubborn but tasty. Despite the cheesy name, it’s actually a somewhat elegant restaurant.