Ok, so where was I at the end of Part One? Oh yes, in the dark, driving, not being able to see the spectacular view of the Pacific coast from Santa Cruz on the way to Monterey. A little disappointed, we finally pulled up to our motel about 10pm and as we squeezed into the tiny parking lot outside and peered up anxiously at the dilapidated-looking exterior of the ugly motel, I tried to put a good spin on it.
"Oh, well, at least we won't have far to walk from our car."
The nose of our car was practically touching the room in front. I jumped out before she could see my grimace. As the grumpy, old man in a dirty frayed shirt and grubby cardigan shuffled out of some back room into the claustrophobic lobby, my heart sank even further. After a brief verbal scuffle I discovered that we were in the wrong motel. Thank goodness! Never have I been so happy to have messed up. Emma's face showed her massive relief as we pulled in next door to a much more respectable-looking motel.