You know, if you cant tell what kind of "experience" you're going to have staying at this motel by just looking at it you dont deserve to share the small joys of life with the rest of us. We really dont want you around. Really? The train bothered you? Get over yourself and lighten up. The train is just a small part of what makes staying here enjoyable. I just WISH i would have run into the Innkeeper after having a couple...hopefully would have convinced him to have a couple more while listening to what I can only imagine would have been some of the most interesting stories heard in some time.
My wife and I stumbled upon this place while driving up the coast looking for a little hotel on the beach that didn't look like every other hotel in every other town. As soon as we saw it we knew it was the perfect place. We stopped and asked about vacancies and were told none til the following week,so, we went up to LA and came back down out of our way to finsh our vacation at this perfect little motel. Stayed five wonderful nights. Already talking about when we can go back. I want to know I'm in California when i visit...believe me, when you wake up here you know EXACTLY where you are. Sunsets, falling asleep and waking up to crashing waves, surfers, beach bonfires, fish tacos, 1930's beachfront motel...you know...California!!
My wife and i talked about how soft the train whistle was and how Amtrak must only let the laid back conductors have what has to be the most sought after and fought over route in the area! Can you imagine cruising that train up and down the coast all day for a JOB? Believe me, if it was your job you wouldnt risk it by blasting your damn whistle through a tourist area like this one! The next time we come we'll be flying to LAX, getting to the train station and taking it down to the BeachComber for a week stay of nothin but chilin.
Next time go stay at a Marriot on some golf course somewhere...like Omaha, and if they ever, EVER tear this hotel down i will blame the likes of you and your ilk, hang my head in shame, and walk slowly into the crashing waves, inhaling for my last breath the pure Pacific Ocean water deep into my lungs.