Thursday evening after walking through Monterey's Cannery Row, I stopped to take a break and eat at an oceanside park. After talking to a homeless guy for a bit, a totally gorgeous young woman approached me and asked me if I would take some pictures of her (with her camera) by the ocean and on the rocks and stuff. With an accent I couldn't place, her looks told me she might be from Italy or Spain, but she was German. Her name was "Dee-ah-nah." (I didn't get the spelling.) We talked for a little bit, then from out of nowhere, she said she had to go. And she was gone. Probably for the best. --> That night I slept on a beach a couple miles from the park, about 30 feet from the ocean, sans tent. No one bothered me. --> Friday, in the middle of a very long walk, I got a ride into Carmel with a real estate agent named Patrick, I think. He drove a Land Rover or a Range Rover or something; my second career ride in a high-end vehicle. --> I took this pic somewhere between Carmel and Big Sur.
I'm at the 'staging center' for tours of the Hearst Castle (which is somewhere in that picture) right now, with Gisela. Gisela is a German high school teacher. She will be taking the tour; I will not be taking the tour. I have a lot to say about the last few days, but I don't have my laptop right now because I left it back at the farm. The farm? Yeah, the farm. That's part of the story; a really good part of the story. Haven't been able to say anything lately because I was in the middle of nowhere for a couple days. I should be able to catch up a little when we get back to the farm. --> To the anonymous loserfucks who sometimes feel the need to talk shit about me in comments: You are total pussies who wish you had the balls to get out here and do what I do. Fuck you and please allow yourselves to have an original thought someday.