If you were a fool and didn’t fuel on the peninsula, driving from the north—and got hit with fuel prices in Big Sur, or gunned it the rest of the way—or coming from central coast or inland also gunning it, you’d make your way to Lucia, a three horse depot on the edge of our favourite cliff . If we were pinning golden figs on friends of prandium, Avis, at Store there, would be the inaugural honoree—yes perhaps even before the produce stockers at Farm Fresh Produce. All for putting out a shiny bowl and new sign with hard boiled eggs. Sel and piper are found at the coffee counter. Driving there is one and a half hours in any direction;—in rain season and falling rocks—and to opt out of yet another mindless snack attack, sensed me a likely no distant kinship with Avis.
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