90 or so miles of coastline in central California defined by Highway 1. Here idiot tourists drive too slow and hang out of cars with their cameras because they are too lazy to stop or pull over so others can get by. These same dumb tourists will ask the same exact question to anyone they encounter who resembles a local. Locals hate tourists, but understand that their money is necessary for the communities survival.
Big Sur has no "town" and is inhabited by an unhealthy mix of zinged out hippies, alcoholics, tweekers, bridge people, pot growers, illegal Mexicans, a token black guy, and locals who think they are priveleged and entitled although they can't make it in the "real world."
And if you are looking for the real Big Sur, you want to find it right next to the Poison Oak growery above which baby condors circle for prey.
Experiencing Big Sur is ideal when the fair-weather tourist crowd stays home for the winter.
The best surfbreak in Big Sur is called Fullers, and is found just north of Grimes Point, south of the Henry Miller Library, and the trail down is across from a large parking area that usually has dirt and construction material in it.