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California dreaming? Down south near my hometown of Laguna Beach there's a wonderful little place called Crystal Cove. Once upon a time it was home to a colony of sweet little cottages and beachfront shacks and a just the sort of 1950's wave-riding and mai tai drinking community you'd imagine would call it home. In recent years the old-timers were made to leave and it became a state park, which can always be a little saddening but occasionally turns out alright. In this case they've left everything looking just the same from the outside and I think if you were ever able to rent one of the cottages (which you can if you plan a good 6 years in advance) the insides are probably just as amazing as well. They've also opened up The Beachcomber, a cozy little place right on the sand with a nice wide deck and pretty damn good food that somehow manages to keep an air of unpretention and charm. Frankly, the place has always had such a neat atmosphere and it just felt really good to see that it hasn't become another theme park for tourists. There's a certain feeling that only exists by the sea, a special gentleness and nostalgia that comes over you and its still there, making me dreamy. Driftwood and salt in your hair and that golden afternoon light. Or maybe I just romanticize it. I suppose its just the illusion of a life that would've kept me there, had it truly existed. Or some such nonsense...