An East Coast guest discovers that not all seaside communities are created equal. Especially when it comes to waves, weather, and fried clams.
We recently had a visitor from Cape Cod, Massachusetts — another beautiful coastal community with beaches, tourists, fishing boats, and people who insist there’s nowhere better to live.
Naturally, we asked for an honest assessment of Monterey Bay.
The verdict? We’re a peculiar bunch.
First, where’s all the green?
Cape Cod is green. Really green. Trees, lawns, wooded lanes, and vegetation that seems determined to reclaim anything humans have built. Monterey Bay, by comparison, has a more restrained relationship with the color. Golden hills, coastal scrub, and landscapes that appear to have negotiated a seasonal agreement with chlorophyll.
Your roads are tiny. And you’re all driving too fast.
Our visitor couldn’t quite reconcile Monterey Bay’s narrow, winding roads with the apparent conviction of local drivers that they’re qualifying for Formula One. Cape Cod has narrow roads, too, but apparently we bring a special enthusiasm to the experience.
And what’s with the buildings?
Cape Cod’s architectural vocabulary is largely wooden, weathered, and old. Shingles, clapboard, and houses that look as though they’ve survived several centuries of nor’easters through sheer stubbornness.
Monterey Bay? Spanish influences, stucco, adobe, modern glass, and the occasional architectural experiment. Not necessarily better or worse. Just an entirely different conversation between people and their surroundings.
But the people!
Here’s where Monterey Bay scored a surprising victory. Our guest found people friendlier, more approachable, and seemingly less wrapped up in themselves.
We’ll accept the compliment, although we suspect the sample size was insufficient to include Highway 1 during rush hour.
The ocean is a completely different color.
Cape Cod’s Atlantic is a deep, dark green. Monterey Bay’s Pacific is an almost impossibly intense blue.
And the waves have different personalities.
Cape Cod’s surf arrives with power, purpose, and repetition. Serious waves doing serious ocean business.
Monterey Bay’s waves seem more playful. More animated. As though the Pacific is having a conversation with the shoreline rather than delivering the same stern lecture over and over.
Does the weather ever actually change?
Our visitor was initially delighted by the relatively gentle temperature swings. No brutal transitions. No sudden reminders that nature is fundamentally indifferent to your comfort.
But then came a troubling thought:
Doesn’t it get boring?
When every day is reasonably pleasant, does pleasantness eventually lose its charm? Is there something to be said for weather that occasionally tries to kill you, if only to remind you how wonderful spring can be?
We didn’t have a particularly convincing answer. We were too busy deciding whether to bring a sweater.
And finally, the great Monterey Bay culinary scandal.
Where are the fried clams?
Not clam strips. Not calamari pretending to be a suitable substitute.
Whole-belly fried clams. The glorious, juicy, slightly messy New England variety, served in a paper basket with enough tartar sauce to alarm a cardiologist.
For a region so devoted to seafood, this omission was apparently unforgivable.
We pointed out our extraordinary local seafood, from Dungeness crab to sand dabs and calamari.
Our visitor remained unmoved.
Two coasts. Two very different personalities.
Perhaps that’s the wonderful thing about visiting another coastal community. You recognize the familiar rhythms — tides, tourists, fishing boats, fog, and people who couldn’t imagine living inland — while discovering that almost everything else is different.
Monterey Bay may have bluer water, friendlier strangers, livelier waves, and weather that rarely throws a tantrum.
But Cape Cod has whole-belly fried clams.
And apparently, that’s a pretty big deal.
Over to you, Monterey Bay: What do visitors notice about our little corner of the Pacific that we locals have stopped seeing? And more urgently, does anybody know where to find a proper basket of whole-belly fried clams?
And where are the Dunkin Donuts?