Not enough has been written about San Diego and Southern California, so I’m going to pitch in. I visited there recently to witness my son, Ben, get married on the beach. That was terrific, and there’s a whole story about it worth writing.
But what I want to tell you is that San Diego is all that. There is a difference in how you feel the moment you arrive. The change in attitude is immediate. When my teenage children emerged from the San Diego Airport terminal and saw the bay on this side, the city on that side, and the palm trees all around they said something along the lines of “Whoa.”
Other whoa moments. Hiking on the trails at Torrey Pines as a soaring hawk comes eye-to-eye with you. You might know Torrey Pines for the televised golf tournament, but it is also a public park with trails threading through the arid cliffs to the beach. The moment you first see the distant ocean the topography silences the surf. That’s when the hawk stared me down. Whoa.
Downtown San Diego is, according to Gail, like Baltimore. With less strife, I might add. There is a Little Italy, an historic bar and restaurant Gaslamp District (like FellsPoint), a touristy waterfront. But if I had a 9-5 there, what might I do after work? Surf, sand, kayak, beach sunset all minutes away. Whoa.
Daytime temp: high 70s. Nighttime temp: low 60s. Pretty much all the time. But wouldn’t that would get boring, you ask. Not immediately, I say.
So you take your rented convertible and drive 10 minutes and cross the spectacular bridge to Coronado. I have been on some pretty nice small town Main Streets, hello Ellicott City. This main street has a dozen excellent restaurants and cafes, drug store, grocery, hardware, post office, tourist shops, hotels, and is two blocks from the Pacific Ocean. The other end of the main drag boasts a splendid panoramic view of San Diego andthe bay. We ate three meals at McP’sIrish Pub because Gail became addicted to the avocado toast. Whoa.
From here drive south on the Silver Strand, a 5-mile strip of beach between Coronado and Imperial Beach, the Pacific on your right and the bay on your left. You could throw a stone and hit either one. IB reminds Ben of Rehoboth, Delaware. Maybe. There is a commercial stretch similar to Del Rt. 1. Every daybreak a dozen wet-suited surfers convene near the pier. There is fantastic burrito roadside stand (of course) called Don Pancho's. You could walk to Mexico on the beach. Gail did it. Whoa.
Next time I would like to sample local fast food. Don Pancho's, El Pollo Loco, City Tacos, Jack in the Box are all in my sights. Ben says this is wrong-headed. Instead I should seek out the best rendition of the California Burrito. This sounds to me like an argument with no losing side.
The travel sites are necessarily concerned with things to do, points of interest and top-10 lists. Those are great, but maybe what is missing is some sort of barometer of how the place makes you feel. How does San Diego and environs make me feel? Whoa.
