I feel as if my travel-induced ranting last night may not have been amazingly informative. So here it goes:
Side note: if you are looking for a very informative, no frills, travel “blog”, just ignore the running commentary in the parenthesis.
Yesterday we arrived in (conspicuous, and possibly overrated) Orange County. I delved into the strangities of the airport and city itself last night so I will not do so this morning (however, properly executed redundancies have their moments in the sun).
After dragging our many bags (I have to say, I’m impressed by Adam’s ability to ulitize other’s luggage to create the impression that he is a very light packer) past John Wayne towards the busy flow of airport traffic, the men (in our posse) set out (leaving the women and children behind, of course) to round up our (very un-cowboy) H2 rental.
For those of you who have weaved down (or up) the 101, you know that it being called a highway is a decent stretch of the word.
(high – way [hahy-wey] -noun
1. a main road, esp. one between towns or cities
From Lincoln City to Laguna, there is nothing “between” about Highway 101. It seems like one giant tourist trap stretched our for miles along the Mighty Pacific. As a hurried traveler, one can only travel nine yards or so before running into yet another stoplight.)
Last night we went to an amazing and whimsically authentic Italian restaurant called “Ti Amo”. From atmosphere to artichoke dip, I thoroughly enjoyed this restaurant. I think that everyone else did as well.(..I’ll just assume that they did. You know what assuming does…)