Homer

The pictures suggest that the weather wasn't perfect the whole time, but my memory was that it was. We arrived late in the afternoon and, like every visitor by highway before us, including many who have stayed, we rounded the corner and saw Kachemak Bay and the snow-capped peaks spread out in front of us. We were impressed. It didn't hurt that we spent the next three days in a pleasant inn perched on the bluff (which is another story) overlooking the beach and the spit and the bay and the glaciers.

We found the Sourdough Express and Wasabi's and the Two Sisters. We found gravel beaches (although only one of us spent much time wandering on them). We found the Homer Spit, although I think we all found it too crowded and too tacky.

As usual, I got up early and went off in search of coffee and bakeries and walks on the beach, returning later in the morning to retrieve the late risers and lead them to breakfast. Our place had a TV, but no cable and no NFL network, so D watched Seinfeld videos (which his mother could enjoy, too, whereas yet another ESPN counterpoint on the end of Brett Favre's retirement was wasted on her).