The morning fog peels off the Pacific like a slow curtain, revealing the dark blue of the ocean and the jagged silhouette of the coast. A chauffeur opens the door of a leather-upholstered luxury sedan and the smell of salt and eucalyptus fills the cabin. From Monterey’s harbor the road slips into 17-Mile Drive, where manicured fairways fall away to cliffs that dare the surf below. The driver-guide—local, patient, and unhurried—slides the car into a turnout and the group steps out, facing a coastline that works on its own timetable.