Unfortunately, we didn't get to see Clint during our two-day stay in Carmel, although he featured prominently in the town’s glossy magazine and there’s an Eastman building that houses KRML jazz radio, so his influence lingers on. I can see why he moved there – it's gorgeous! Quaint houses, beautiful beach, attractive yet impossible to read signposts, and lots of top-quality restaurants. There was also a high preponderance of upmarket grockle shops, but they didn’t sell the always-appealing clocks made out of bits of crab or seashells, just very expensive (and bad!) oil paintings of trees and bronzes of ballerinas and puppies. There was just one grocery store, hidden away at the back of the town, and even the petrol stations were cutesy and shingled.
And you know what? I loved it. I’d happily live there, working at the Aveda spa during the day and eating at the Forge in the Forest at night. Hell yes.
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