The Prius Capital of the World? Perhaps...

So this is an ode to Half Moon Bay, my new home.

I think I made it clear I was not an "ocean" person when I moved there 2 months ago. Let me clarify.

I grew up about one mile from the beach on the coast, just south of the Golden Gate Bridge. It is by far the foggiest area on the Northern California coast. Fog so thick you literally cannot see in front of you, so wet you are sopping by the time you arrive the 2 blocks to school. All your cars rust up, your houses always have a faint mold smell, no matter how fastidious you are about cleaning. The early Italian settlers (my ancestors) discovered that the verdant soil and moist air made perfect farmland. Dairy and pig farms, artichoke and cabbage crops populated the terrain.

This is all well and good, but for this girl growing up there in the 1980's, all it meant was cloudy, depressing days. If I did visit the beach, it was with a thick heavy coat and at the risk of getting windburn from the relentless, biting wind. The trees surrounding the coastline are permanently bent in the shape of the wind, from the persistent, unwielding elements. Throughout my childhood and adolescence, my only dream in life was to move somewhere where I was likely to see the sun. I wasn't asking a lot, just some Vitamin D and non frizzed out hair once in a while.

You can see why I may be a little less than enthiused to move to a coastal town. I'm not nearly as neurotic about my hair these days, but you know, I do have those tendencies, I am not going to lie.

But I'm here to say, Half Moon Bay is growing on me. It's nothing like my hometown. Granted, it can be overcast quite a bit, but it's also sunny quite a bit and nowhere near as overwhelmingly depressing as where I grew up. There is a relaxed, friendly vibe from everyone you meet and it's hard not to let it grow on you.

Besides it's small town charm, salty breezes and stunning coastline, Half Moon Bay has many historic feathers under its collective hat. Once a grazing land for the cattle, oxen and horses of the Mission Dolores, it was settled by Italian and Portugese farmers in the mid 1800's. It's primary local industries include farming, fishing and tourism. There's a sense of isolation living there, with a 20 minute (without traffic) drive over a mountain road to the peninsula (to the East) and a 25 minute drive north up a windy coastal highway to San Francisco. There is one big grocery store, no movie theater, no Target (say it isn't so!) The locals love the sense of isolation and strive to keep it that way. Today, the population is a diverse mix of hippies, millionaires, yuppies and rural farm workers and their families. To say the coast is eclectic doesn't even do it justice.

Besides being home to the annual Pumpkin Festival and the great Maverick's surf contest, I just discovered that it was the filming location for "Harold and Maude." Who knew?

And just based on anecdotal evidence, I am going to go out on a limb and say that Half Moon Bay might very possibly be the Prius capital of the world. I have never in my life seen so many Prius.' In fact, as I walked along the beach path, thinking about what I'd blog about, trying to count in my head how many Prius' I seen on a daily basis...a Prius drove by. I kid you not!

I think I am starting to like this coastal living thing. For now. Just wait until the rains start, I'm sure I'll have lots to whine about then.