California coast: Even a 30-hour visit reveals Carmel, Monterey among state's shining jewels

We learned: that Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo claimed Monterey Bay for Spain in 1542. That the Carmelite chaplains landed on this coast in 1602, preceding the Puritans at Plymouth Rock by 18 years. That the mission of San Carlos Borromeo was founded in 1770 by Father Serra — and it was founded near Monterey. But the soil was poor, and the mission was soon relocated to the mouth of the Carmel River.

We were struck by the peacefulness of the prayer garden and by how much the mission meant to the docent, who spends several dozen hours a week here, volunteering and worshipping. (There are eight Masses every weekend. Attendance averages 400 people at the 11 a.m. Mass on Sundays.)

She talked of why the mission was established: not only to convert the native people but also because the king of Spain wanted to build a civilization. He wanted the friars to teach specialties to people who, heretofore, had been tribal.

In tribes, of course, many people knew how to do it all — weave, hunt, fish, bake. But the king of Spain thought it would be better if some of the Ohlones learned to farm while others sat at looms and still others fished.

The docent made the king's division-of-labor idea sound pretty good. (None of the descendents of the Ohlone or Esselen or Salinan tribes were on hand, of course. If you read their histories, you are more apt to hear about the harsh punishments inflicted by the friars. And you'll learn of how the tribes all but died out — from disease but also from the forced labor.)

Though we would have liked to stay longer, the mission closes at 4:30, so we left to check in at the Briarwood Inn, on San Carlos between 4th and 5th streets (800-999-8788, briarwoodinncarmel.com. Rates include a happy hour and breakfast and begin at $99 for off-season, around $135 for summer). Our room was spacious, L-shaped, with three beds and a fireplace. We liked having a table and chairs on the front porch.

Next we walked the town. The words "picturesque" and "artists' colony" were invented for Carmel. Not only are there no house numbers, there is no neon — and also no off-season.

The beach is at the end of Ocean Drive. We managed to be there, on the white sand, both before and after dinner.

We checked out a bookstore, a toy store and several art galleries and gift shops and then dined at Little Napoli (on Dolores Street, near 7th Avenue). At Little Napoli, salads and desserts go for around $7 each and the eggplant is $20.

After dinner we returned to the beach to watch the sun set. The weather was cool enough that we were not tempted to wade. The tourist bureau warns that wading is a bad idea anyway; apparently tourists are the ones most likely to be surprised by a rogue wave and get dragged out to sea.