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| Having fun at the Pearl! |
To show you how far back this next one goes, I had planned a two-parter on the Charleston shootings and the Confederate flag, but boy was that ever dreary. Then gay marriage happened, and the Lafayette shootings happened, and Jason Pierre-Paul blew his finger off, and Greece nearly tanked after 3,500 years of being an organized country, the Iran "we're going to pretend you're not still trying to get a nuke anymore and declare victory just like we did in Vietnam" agreement, and the soccer team won some sort of tournament...in the immortal words of Crash Davis, "we're dealing with a lot of shit."
So instead, I want to relate to you a micro-vacation I took in San Diego several weeks ago, before my case truly got out of hand.
"Vacation," you say? Surely not. "Aren't you, like, ALWAYS working?" Yes. Yes, I am. But I decided to join one of our attorneys trying to woo a client in San Diego some weeks ago, and to arrive early and stay after to get SOME sort of time off. I originally intended to head out to LA and spend a long July Fourth weekend north of the city, seeing sights like the Getty, Reagan Museum, and even Santa Barbara. Then I would head south to San Diego for work purposes. But work reared its ugly head, and stopped that plan dead in its tracks as I couldn't get out of town, because of course it did.
So instead, I salvaged the San Diego leg of the trip and added some time before and after the meetings.
I wasn't really too excited about doing so; I'd been in San Diego before and they were experiencing abnormally hot weather. Because they're not set up with air conditioning as we southerners expect, at times that trip more resembled a death march than a relaxing time away. But I located one of those hip and somewhat trendy, but not smug about it, places I like to stay. The Pearl Hotel is a reconditioned/remodeled old roadside motor hotel. About 15-20 units, a pool, a small bar, and a restaurant, all built to resemble 1966, right down to the shag carpeting, "mod" light fixtures, and minimalist LBJ-era furniture. Basically it was like going to one of my Aunts' houses as a kid. But having a bigger room.
So Monday I took a mid-day nonstop and landed in the San Diego airport, which as it turns out is right in the middle of downtown. I remember Robert Mueller Airport, Austin's airport until about 10 years ago, being located not far from downtown, but honestly, San Diego plopped its airport right in the middle of everything. Jets scream overhead downtown on approach to the airport. And the landing angle is noticeably steep, like its Maverick landing on an aircraft carrier. I've complained about the Denver and Kansas City airports located incredibly far outside those respective cities, but at least if there's any mishaps there, you don't take several downtown high rises out along with it.
The Pearl is located in Point Loma, about a 10 minute drive from the airport. Normally the neighborhood within 10 minutes of a major city airport resembles Fallujah or Stalingrad or Del Valle, but Point Loma is quite attractive. A peninsula with great inland heights (giving fantastic bay and ocean views), it features a mix of reconditioned 1950s and 60s small homes and some truly ostentatious California dot com millionaire estates. Nothing approaching some of the monstrosities I've seen in LA, of course, but very upscale. Yet, Point Loma also has a kind of Austin feel in a way. Rosecrans Drive, the main street in town, has a Winchell's Donuts, a "Better Buzz Coffee," several diners and pubs, in addition to some upscale places. The Navy owns most of the rest of the peninsula, on down to the Cabrillo National Monument and the old Point Loma Lighthouse.
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| Point Loma Lighthouse |
After the young, friendly woman at the counter helped me check in, I had a late lunch across the street at the Brigantine, a local quasi-chain. I had a very healthy grilled haddock with green beans and a taste of mashed potatoes. Then I went back to the Pearl, got settled, and headed out to the Monument. You pass through a pretty large Naval installation, and then the historic Fort Rosecrans cemetery. I didn't stop but it covered a great expanse. Those symmetrical rows of white tombstones always evoke a certain sadness mixed with gratitude and respect for those veterans, many of whom died in action for our country. Eventually one reaches the tip of the peninsula, the Cabrillo National Monument. This area commemorates where the Spanish explorer Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo first sailed into what would become known as San Diego Bay in 1542. The park offers staggering views of San Diego, Coronado Island, and the Pacific Ocean. It also marks the site of the original Point Loma Lighthouse, built in the 1850s and which served until the 1890s. Turns out it was too high above sea level, and fog would often obscure the light. So they light was relocated closer to the water, and the government abandoned the lighthouse. The Park Service acquired it in the 1950s and refurbished it and surrounding buildings. The park also has preserved some of the coastal defense installations from the World War II era. From there one can see the Pacific and the cliffs below.
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Balboa Park |
After the Cabrillo visit, I headed over to Balboa Park for a run. The Park represents one of the City's original areas, and now hosts a collection of various museums and fantastic old Spanish architecture. One could easily spend an entire day looking through the various museums, and then head right next door to the famous San Diego Zoo. I, however, was interested only in running the park today. Despite it being Monday afternoon on a cloudy day, a surprising number of tourists and after-work runners filled the park and museum grounds. Balboa Park can't compete with some of the great urban parks, like Golden Gate Park to the north or Central Park to the east. But it provides San Diego a large green expanse close to downtown, and concentrates much of the city's cultural resources close to some up and coming neighborhoods.
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| Café Europa |
After cleaning up (and suiting up), I went to the Café Europa Bar, which was having Tango Night. This place resembled the old Justine's Restaurant in Austin, which sadly burned up in a fire. But with a little more European bistro feel. A fairly large crowd of folks who all seemed to know one another occupied about half the tables, and spent most of the night doing the tango. I gorged on an excellent spinach, almond, beet, and goat cheese salad, wine-marinated lamb chop, patatas bravas, and sautéed calamari (with marinara sauce), while watching the dancers and enjoying the scene. It somewhat recreated that Buenos Aires café feel, particularly considering the inside/outside setting, the mixed dark and pastel colors, and the dancing. A great way to pass a time.
The next day, stupid work got in the way. AGAIN! But I did get a good diner-style breakfast at local institution, Perry's Café. Normally breakfast next to the freeway isn't my bag, man, but here you had booths and a counter, "colorful" neighborhood residents mixed in with business people, waitresses who weren't actresses but actual waitresses, and autographed photos of every San Diego Charger between about 1969-1998. My kind of place. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and two huge enormous buckwheat pancakes (they're gluten free, homes!) later, and I was back to swimming in some sort of corporate dilemma. Over iced tea at the local Starbucks. I felt like I was missing an opportunity to bond with San Diego, going to the Corporate Behemoth coffee place. But the Captain had to do some work, and just needed to zone out.
After lunch with the client, combined with a long freeway drive there and back, I headed over to But if you know me you know I don't lounge, so instead I headed across the channel from Mission Bay to the Ocean Beach Park, right next to the water. Its basically a huge open space with some ball fields, but it boasts a really interesting and hard core workout facility. No air conditioning, but you don't need it (you're in San Diego remember...highs in the 70s, lows in the 60s, year round). The anti-Gold's Gym. Lots of iron, however, so I got in my regular workout and headed back to the Pearl.
And then on to dinner in San Diego's small but concentrated Little Italy neighborhood. The Little Italy area lies between the airport and Balboa Park, and not far from downtown. Its so close to the airport that Southwest jets routinely buzz overhead, as if though one was at old Shea Stadium. Except even closer. Quite disconcerting. I thought if my arm was in shape I could probably hit one with a rock. The main street, India Street, hosts more than a dozen Italian restaurants, as well as bars, shops, and related Italian-themed establishments (e.g. a grocery). Though it was a weeknight, plenty of people were out walking the strip, dining on outdoor patios, and generally enjoying themselves. I "cruised" around a bit, but settled on a distinctly non-Italian place a bit removed from the scene-Juniper & Ivy. Tres chic. A bit more cutting edge than I usually like, but very well established and you can instantly tell this is one of San Diego's dining heavyweights. Can't exactly recall, but I believe I had a great ribeye with mushroom sauce, and a salad, while sitting at the bar and watching the humans dine. I could have sworn this guy sitting at the other corner of the bar, with his date/wife/girlfriend, was Robert Downey, Jr. But he was far too lucid and healthy looking, and his date/wife/girlfriend not only did not look like his actual wife (according to the interwebs), she wasn't A-list star quality looking. I mean, what good is being famous if you can't use it to raise your dating league.
The next day was half working, half vacationing. Or so I'd hoped. After starting with breakfast at stupid place where the name escapes me (it was very bright with lots of primary colors, and the kind of place where the menu mainly has pictures of the food instead of descriptions....I was wondering whether I would find the short bus outside), I had to finish some work. So, basically, I traveled to San Diego so I could spend the morning at a Starbucks. Ugh.
Then it was up the freeway to have Lunch with the Client. This was up in Escondido, a ways up the freeway, at another Brigantine. This one had a little more action and depth to it, so on balance it was much more enjoyable than the tomb they're operating in Point Loma. I had the halibut and tried to dazzle the client.
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| Coronado Hotel |
After lunch I was ready for some down time, so it was on to the famous Coronado Island, home of the Hotel del Coronado (where they made Some Like It Hot, and the Stunt Man). Coronado is just a big island right the mouth of the San Diego harbor. The Navy has a big facility out there, but the remainder strikes me as one of those California seaside communities, like Santa Monica or Carmel or Malibu ("stay out of my beach community Lebowski!"), but with less money and therefore greater accessibility. I enjoyed walking the tree lined main streets, with some quiet shops and restaurants, just near the big hotel. The hotel and the beach area seem the big draws here. Dating from 1888, its one of the last all wooden hotels in the country, and a giant mobile crane hoisting workers up to the roof for maintenance attested to the efforts it must take to maintain an all wooden structure next to the ocean. They've maintained the classic interiors and you can practically see the millionaires, sitting in their rocking chairs reading the Wall Street Journal on the patio as you walk up. Close to the beach, the hotel has built an elaborate complex of pools, restaurants, ice cream shop, fitness center, several bars, and you can check it all out by walking on the concrete pathway leading along the coast. The beach features a spectacular view of the bay and Point Loma peninsula. Wish I could have lounged for a bit.
But the USS Reeder doesn't lounge. It runs. It runs long, and it runs deep. Sorry, I'm not really sure where I was going with this, except to say I went back to the hotel and changed, and then went running at "Sunset Cliffs." This is sort of a Point Loma version of that drive just out of town in Monterey, right next to the water, albeit on some cliffs. Lots of surfers out; it was around 6 or so, and I suppose it was surfing happy hour. Sunset Cliffs, as the name implies, would seem like a great sunset watching place, but the clouds really didn't lift the whole time I was in San Diego until about two hours before I had to leave. No sunset this night, though plenty of locals were out walking their dogs, or taking a stroll with the kids or the SO. At one point as the elevation raised sharply, the drainage creeks running into the ocean created a really dense area with some informal trails criss crossing. A lot of people were running or walking those trails, including surfers going from the car to the water. I marveled over this one couple and their photographer. She was pregnant. I mean like, really pregnant. Like 13 months' pregnant. And was very attractive and dressed very stylishly, as opposed to her prison gang-looking boyfriend. They were taking photos for nearly an hour. Lots of profile shots to show what appeared to be one of those gym stability balls lodged within her uterus. I mean, some people! But I had a great run along the Pacific, in the cool summer night air.
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| The Empire Strikes Back, poolside |
One reason I wanted to stay at the Pearl, and stayed after my business concluded, was to watch the pool-side showing of the Empire Strikes Back. The Pearl has a really nice restaurant and bar, just by the courtyard pool. On the other side of the pool they suspend a huge screen, and show movies on Wednesday nights. The place was packed. With hipsters. Who mostly weren't watching the movie. I don't get these people, many of whom were trying to talk over the movie, oblivious to the idyllic setting for watching one of the great movies of all time. By the pool no less. But I still enjoyed it. The hotel clerk made sure to reserve a spot at the bar for me, where I had a nice dinner. And learned who Luke's father really is.
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| Blacksmith Shop at Old Town San Diego |
The next day, I made more of an effort to take an actual day off. I began at the Old Town San Diego State Park. You know that old western theme park where Clark took the Griswolds in Vacation? Imagine that place, but with fewer staff. And more authentic structures. Old Town San Diego consists of about two dozen "pioneer" type buildings, not unlike the Sam Houston Park in downtown Houston with some of the earliest Houston buildings. It contains a working blacksmith, an active old hotel, and numerous shops both in the buildings and in carefully arranged kiosk-type arrangements. Apparently the San Diego Union (which later became the San Diego Union Tribune) was originally located in Old Town, and the old building (really no larger than a big house), contained a number of turn of the century printing devices. Sort of the turn of the century version of the mimeograph machine. The surrounding neighborhood seems quite old as well, and Hispanic-oriented. The main street running east of Old Town toward downtown boasts about 10 different Mexican restaurants, many of which looked really good (and which seemed quite full at lunch time). Just a couple of blocks from Old Town, I discovered the intriguing Heritage Park, run by the county. This featured old homes alright, but decidedly not ramshackle pioneer homes. To the contrary, these were about 8-10 remarkably preserved Craftsman style homes, along a carefully manicured street. Each appeared to be closed to visitors. It also includes the oldest synagogue in San Diego County, which was open and appears to be available for private functions.
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| La Jolla Point |
Then it was on to LaJolla. If you're looking for the "Lawdy we sho is rich now!" part of San Diego, this is it. Situated atop some cliffs overlooking the Pacific just north of downtown, it boasts spectacular ocean views. It struck me as a somewhat larger Carmel, another kind of place where you could go weeks without seeing an American made car, and the people pass the time by enjoying absolutely perfect weather. Of all things, I ate lunch at a barbecue place (Bubba's Smokehouse BBQ) right on the main drag (Prospect St.). Hey, ok, its not French Laundry. Not every meal can be French Laundry. They had tri tip and it was gluten free and available. Give me a break. After lunch I walked on down to the beach, onto a spit that jutted out into the ocean and gave a great view of the town atop the cliffs and the breaking waves. Seals lined just about all the rocky crags that made up much of the shore line here, and people were stopped to take in the seals sunning themselves on what proved to b a glorious day (La Jolla does not tolerate the cloudiness I'd experienced the entire time in San Diego). I made my way up the coast toward La Jolla Cove, a truly beautiful stretch of beach. To reach it, I found a somewhat secluded little town trail that provided some really phenomenal views of the bluest water I may ever have seen.
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| Enjoying ComicCon...and other stuff no doubt |
Finally, killing time, I went downtown to check out the ComicCon freaks. That's right, San Diego is home to ComicCon, that human freak show and parade devoted to science fiction and fantasy TV, movies, comic books (or whatever they're called nowadays). And, you know, it was more Halloween carnival than Big Bang Theory. As near as I can tell, its like South By Southwest for science fiction, cartoons, comics, etc. The various production companies appear on panels, provide stars and producers to drum up interest in their upcoming shows, They send tons of publicity types down there, and thousands dress up in their favorite character's costumes. The event that once was truly a freak show now draws the likes of Bill Murray and Robert Downey, Jr. I checked out the scene, with thousands making their way to the convention center, dressed in their favorite Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, superhero, or other costumes. The general scene resembled Mardi Gras in some ways, as people hung out in Gaslamp Quarter bars and restaurants and reveled in the freakery. I'm sure that inside the Convention Center may have had a different scene, but just being outside was enough.
OK, that's about it for San Diego. Had a great time, til I had to go back to work.
Can't guarantee anything, but I do hope to resume writing a little more. Hope to see you again soon.
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