The roads in and around Los Angeles are really easy to navigate, especially because they tend to be so traffic-choked that you've got plenty of time to carefully check the map to make sure you're going where you want to be going. Because of this, we didn't use the GPS app* H1 has on his phone hardly at all, relying upon my skills** instead.
The afternoon we decided to head to Malibu was no different. I checked the map before we went, zooming in to see the road names and following them with my finger as I talked out loud.
"Easy. Turn right onto Kanan Dume Road, drive along it for ages, and then we can take a left onto...Pacific Coast Highway."
Pacific Coast Highway.
I shouldn't have been so surprised, seeing as we were going to the beach on the West Coast, where the Pacific meets America, but the words came as a giddy, exciting shock to me. Driving down the Pacific Coast Highway with my husband as the sun set - could it get any better?
We got to Malibu quickly*** and easily and headed straight to the centre. When you Google the map of Malibu, there is a pointy bit that sticks out further into the ocean than any other point. It's called Point Dume, and there's a gorgeous park there, full of funny, scrubby, shrubby plants with blazing yellow flowers. You walk up a hill and stand on the very edge of America, staring down at the ocean that stretches all the way across the world to the beach that you grew up on. It's an awesome feeling, in the very truest sense of the word.
After bouncing around the top of Point Dume for a while, we got tired and cold and headed back to the car to search for sand and shelter. We found both at Paradise Cove, a small beach that was very quiet on that overcast day. It had a dusty, desolate beauty about it that I imagine vanishes completely in the sunlight, chased away by shouting children and cars full of teenagers and music. I liked it better our way.
After our leisurely dinner, we returned to our trusty rental, ready to make the simple drive back to our hotel. We turned on the radio, and as we drove north the sun pushed through the clouds and the Eagles came on. I leaned back into my seat, looked over at H1, and smiled as I reached to hold his hand, retracting it only when he needed it to control the car****.
Then I Facebooked about it.
*It's a she. Her name is Karen, and she is the WORST.
**Or lack thereof. I'm not as good at navigation as Karen, but in every other way I'm a much better person.
***No traffic, for once - a total bonus.