Being in sunny Malibu on a sparkling afternoon doesn't seem like too bad an idea –– unless you're sitting in a rented gas guzzling Crown Vic in stalled traffic on the southbound lane of the beautiful Pacific Coast Highway. Apparently, a few downed power lines farther along the pike can bring the mighty LA to a screeching halt.
As I sat in the passenger seat, snapping pics of beautiful homes and snatches of coast, I had to laugh when I saw a sign that announced that we were on something called a Tsunami Evacuation Route. If everybody is trying to escape a tsunami, I imagine the roads would be a little more busy than they were at present. Best to stay in town, go up to the roof, and blow up your water wings.
After a couple of hours of this, we thought it a good idea to call the Sea Shore Motel to let them know the situation and re-secure our reservation. It was getting late. We were happy to hear that they hadn't given away our room just yet. We rolled in about 5:15 PM and were told we were to be in Room 12. Which was odd, because the key had the number 14 stamped on it.
Room 14 turned out to be a spacious terra cotta tiled room with a timbered ceiling and a queen sized bed, deep and comfy arm chair, a large screen tv, and a fridge and kitchen table with two chairs, ample closet space, an ironing board, a small electric fan, and, thankfully... an air conditioning unit. There was a good sized en-suite bath with a nicely tiled shower stall and a bonus hair dryer.
My wife went to the front desk to clear up the room number situation and to obtain a street map. The woman who told me we were in Room 12 also told my wife she had already given a map to me (she hadn't). Anyway, in a state with semi-legal marijuana use, and in a town as laid back as Santa Monica, it's best not to dispute incorrect room assignments or argue the toss about street maps with heavy lidded desk help. Just go with the flow, dude. Who needs a, "whatever, man" as a reply? Not to say she was a female version of the Big Lebowski, just to say she was just a little flaky, yet pleasant... like a Southern California fruit pie.
The Sea Shore Motel was okay. Clean. Busy. At $189 a night, it was a little pricey for an older motel without a pool, but considering its favorable location, the fare seemed fair.
My distinct impression of Santa Monica is that we had arrived 35 years too late. SM is most def a town for the young and self aware. Many restaurants along Main Street cater to the affluent, the hip, the under-40 crowd. I felt like I had parked in the wrong city. Closer to Venice Beach than Santa Monica Pier, the motel was situated in a good spot for the ocean and its attractions. But an automobile is needed to get to a lot of eating places in a more moderate price range than Main Street ($10 for two eggs: get real). See our review of Mariasol Cocina Mexicans on Trip Advisor.
http://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowUserReviews-g33052-d361606-r120472942-Mariasol_Cocina_Mexicana-Santa_Monica_California.html#REVIEWS
The much vaunted homeless folks are in great numbers in the parks and on the streets, but we did not feel hassled or threatened in any way. As East Coast city dwellers, they did not seem in the same league as the crazies of NYC, Philly, or DC. Na mean?*
*
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=na%20mean
This review is the subjective opinion of a TripAdvisor member and not of TripAdvisor LLC
