I’m sorry that you won’t remember the wonderfully intimidating Big Sur – the lashing of the waves threatening the canyons below ominous bridges, or the towering gargantuan redwoods watching over us as we slept.
I’m sorry that you won’t remember how excited you were to see a blazing campfire for the first time.
I’m sorry that for you, watching the magnificent sun-set though port holes of an old water tower turned café, was no more stimulating than a regular trip out for lunch back home.
I’m sorry that we made you walk along yet another trail to see yet another beach.
I’m sorry that your experience of the fantastically daunting drive along this part of the Pacific Coast Highway was somewhat tedious as the laptop battery ran out interrupting Fireman Sam mid episode.
I’m sorry that you wouldn’t have noticed how happy Mummy and Daddy were here – to see the wonder in your eyes as you scrutinised rock pools, to hear your blissful squeals whilst running through waves and your little songs as you danced around our campfire with your torch searching for a real life bear.
How happy we were to have some time together as you and your even more feral little brother lay abnormally peaceful in the RV and we sat under the stars, alongside the trees, wishing we had just one more log to lay on the dying fire.
Perhaps one day we’ll bring you back here – when you’re old enough to appreciate how Big Sur truly is one of the most amazing places on this earth.
Love you more than bookshops,
P.S Maybe these photographs will stir a little happy memory from your time here.