Clare Teal: Recipe for excess as US mealtimes make it hard to say no

This week, whether you like it or not, I continue to bore you with tales of our fabulous Californian coastal road trip.

It was without doubt the best holiday I’ve ever had and I would recommend it to anyone.

A crisp, crystal clear Sunday morning started with another American breakfast (oh dear).

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It took a while to click but finally we observed that average, normal-sized people in America eat only half the food put in front of them, while others doggedly persist till every scrap has gone – my mind set entirely. Having been brought up to clear my plate and not waste food, it made me cross that I was put in the uncomfortable position of eating to absolute excess or wasting half my food – I didn’t want to take my leftovers away in a little bag to ripen under hot sun in the car for hours on end.

Our first stop that day was a visit to one of America’s National Historic Landmarks. In 1915, newspaper tycoon Randolph Hearst approached architect Julia Morgan stating, “I would like to build something upon the hill at San Simeon. I get tired of going up there and camping in tents.

“I’m getting a little too old for that. I’d like to get something that would be a little more comfortable.”

Work began on the ‘bungalow’ in 1919 and was finished some 28 years later. Hearst Castle is fascinating a real mish mash of historic European architecture, priceless artworks and artifacts. It sort of works and sort of doesn’t, but is definitely worth a look if you pass through.

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Onwards to hang a while with San Simeon’s colony of elephant seals. The largest bull elephant seal on record measured 22 feet long and weighed 11,000 lb. We saw thousands flipping sand on the beach, bellowing through their big old proboscises.

These guys can hold their breath under water for more than an hour and 40 minutes. They are seriously grumpy and on land they can move faster than an average human.

Driving the 90 miles of mountainous wondrous and sparse Big Sur was a real highlight – until the fuel light came on. Picture the relief 15 minutes later as we limped into the forecourt of Big Sur’s one and only gas station.

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