I write to you this evening from the living room of my cousin Kirk's gorgeous condo in La Jolla (pronounced luh-HOY-uh), a northern neighborhood of San Diego. I am currently multitasking between writing this entry, booking a hotel for tomorrow, and attempting to understand what my cousins once-removed are teaching me about Harry Potter and Pokemon cards. While tonight marks a record third night that I will be staying in the same city and as such am itching to get on the road tomorrow, it goes to show that sometimes when you find a good thing it's worth sticking around for a while.
When last I wrote I was spending the night in a sub-par Super 8 in San Diego. I awoke to my alarm at 8:30am, eager to take advantage of the free continental breakfast offered at the motel. After doing a lap around the building to find that the breakfast room was in fact next door to me (strangely in a vacant room on the second floor, neither at the end of the building nor near an ice machine or any other sorts of amenities). Regardless, I didn't complain about my "complementary" bran muffins and coffee, that is until the ceiling sprung a leak as I was sitting at my table and began flowing directly into my food (it had gone from dry to steady flow without even a warning drip). I was done with the meal.
As you can infer by the leak, it had been raining the previous night and the outside ground was damp and laden with puddles (it was later explained to me that it rains in San Diego a whopping 12 or so days a year, and I just happened to arrive for days 4-6). I wouldn't let this get me down though, as I was still riding high on making my way all the way to the west coast, and after more than half a week in the desert a few clouds and cooler weather were welcome. As I was trashing my soggy muffins (yeah, I probably could have come up with a less innuendo-friendly way of phrasing that) I got a call from my cousin Kirk to meet up for lunch. Knowing that he lived in San Diego, I had attempted to contact Kirk the prior evening about meeting up, but he apologized for not getting the message until the morning (he had just participated in a 24 hour relay race in which he ran a total of 30k). Naturally he was more than forgiven (and I'll have to use that excuse myself sometime that I don't feel like answering my phone...).
After the call I packed-up, checked-out and drove to our designated meeting place of Seaport Village, which is a strip of unique boutiques and restaurants right on the San Diego Bay.
I arrived a bit early, and after parking had a stroll through some of the more masculine shoppes, including one specializing in all things Scandinavian (which I'm not entirely sure has anything in the least to do with San Diego culture) and a joint that was fully stocked with every barbecue sauce known to man (they make a Dr. Pepper BBQ sauce!?!?!). Soon Kirk arrived, and he brought the kids!!
Logan (girl, 10 years old) and Quinn (boy, 8 years old) are Kirk's children (thus making them my first-cousins once-removed), and my favorite kids ever. I had first met them (when you have a spread-out family you find yourself "meeting" your relatives rather late in the game) last summer over the 4th of July at my grandmother's, and instantly fell in love with the two. Freshly on Spring Break, vibrant and energetic, inquisitive and excitable, the kids came running up to me soon after Kirk and I spotted each other from afar. After some quick deliberation, we found a spiffy food court for lunch.
I only wish that food courts in the east offered what could be found here. After two weeks of having to fight to the death to find some semblance of a square meal, I found a counter that served-up a huge grilled mahi mahi fillet with brown rice and a salad for - wait for it - $9.50! After ordering it took about 20 minutes to prepare (which leads me to believe that the food is, in fact, fresh), during which time I did some catching-up with Kirk and the kids. When the food eventually graced me with its presence it promptly disappeared in a frenzy of plastic fork and knife action. A noteworthy experience during this meal was the pigeon who hopped onto the table to steal one of Quinn's fries (due in part to a little bit of furtive baiting below the line of sight of we adults) who received a quick backhand from Kurt. Now, I'm no metropolitan ornithologist, but most birds I know would take-off at record speed upon seeing the hand of a former Navy Seal coming at them. This hardy bastard took the blow in stride and kept going for the fries with almost no hesitation. Shocked, Kurt delivered a pimp slap that sent the pigeon across the courtyard with a surprisingly deep "thud" upon contact. The moral of the story: don't feed the birds, because San Diego pigeons fear no man.
Anywho, soon after the meal (and the obligatory purchasing of ice cream for the kids, the flavor choices of whom started at vanilla and rotated through the entire palate of selections before resolving on - you guessed it - vanilla) we walked back towards our cars to find this unsightly vehicle in the road:
Evidently San Diego has "Seal Tours," which are bus / boat hybrid tour vehicles akin to "Ride the Ducks" back east. The main difference here is that these tourists are not handed the quacking whistles that every city slicker has learned to hate over enough time spent at any waterfront, so the seals are a significant upgrade in my book.
Following Kurt back to his place and then hopping into his car, we drove to the cove beaches of La Jolla where I soon found out just why San Diego chose the seal as its semi-terrestrial tourism animal:
This man-made cove was originally designed as a swimming territory for little kids, due to the calm waters and smooth sand, bereft of the rocky shores that are typical of La Jolla beaches (La Jolla is a volcanic mountain formation that ends very abruptly at its shores). It was designed so well that the seals claimed it as their own. There is controversy as to whether the seals should be allowed to retain the beach or if they should be relocated, as there are mixed opinions as to whether they are a natural marvel or an overwhelming nuisance. Check out this video and decide for yourself: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NfQ2El9_E_M (I'm pretty fond of them).
After adoring the creatures who have a pretty awesome life (laying on the beach wiggling and grunting all day... until the sharks come eat them), we moved to another cove which is substantially more swimmer friendly, and is also the vantage point of many of La Jolla's postcards, which I attempted to recreate:
Granted, the post cards are probably photographed on days with nicer weather. After letting the kids get their feet wet for a while we gave them piggy back rides back to the car (which in retrospect is not the best idea after letting a kid get his or her feet wet, which means getting everything up to the mid-thigh wet). Kurt then was gracious enough to give me a nice driving tour of La Jolla. My mom (and thus my grandparents, aunt and uncle I would presume) used to live on the very top of Soledad Mountain in La Jolla (which was also the home town of Dr. Seuss and many other millionaires who by today's standards would be billionaires). Needless to say, there were MANY nice houses to be seen.
Mom, here's what 5644 Soledad Mountain Road looks like today:
Video panorama here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PQD7KxTFR-E&feature=related
...and here's the view from the edge of the mountain:
Video panorama here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V6iEAbUuNhg
My mom spoke very highly of San Diego, so I hope this brings back good memories!
After creeping around my Mom's old 'hood, we went to an outdoor mall (again, all the rage in the southwest) to get sneakers for Quinn, who forgot his in a hotel room (having been on the road for 2 weeks I can certainly understand how that could happen). We walked into a Journeys to find a girl running shop who seemed a BIT too excited to be helping people pick out shoes, even by California standards. Watching Quinn try on shoes (which of course resulted in Logan trying on some shoes followed by Kirk himself) brought out a few rudely awakening flashbacks regarding how ridiculous I must have been trying on shoes as a kid. Not having kids of my own, this was of course adorable and endearing to me, frustrating and all-too common for Kurt. In the end the family prevailed, leaving with a total four pairs of shoes (Quinn very insistent on Kurt getting Vans to match his, that just so happened to match the Vans that I own too... awwwww!). Before leaving the mall I stopped into the food court to find a rest room, finding that the center of the food court was none other than an ice hockey rink (uhhhh awesome?!?!):
After shopping we all went to the Old _____ Buffet (not the Old Country Buffet, something else I can't remember that's basically exactly the same), which led to the gorging of myself on vegetables and lean meats (I should check out a buffet next time I'm desperate...). While grabbing food Logan noticed a boy coughing directly on the hot fresh rolls, and promptly alerted the staff of the infraction. While upstanding and professional, taking her crime-fighting duties quite seriously, she still watched and chuckled as her unknowing father bit into one of the befouled rolls.
After dinner it was time for Quinn's baseball practice, which was a-freakin-dorable to watch. Quinn took second base for most of the drills (being a pretty good mental player with a decent glove but still developing his throwing arm, being smaller than many of his teammates) which he did with pride while sporting his brand new Vans, black skinny jeans and flat-brimmed over-sized DC ball cap (at 8 years old this California kid has a better sense of style than I do). His batting wasn't half bad, though he tends to let go of the bat with his right hand too early and seems to have the game plan of going up to bat to walk, since he is in the first year of kid pitch).
After baseball we all came back to Kurt's place, where we all promptly passed out.
This morning I awoke to the laughter of children, which beats the pants off of any of my cell phone's current alarm clock tones, and soon sat down to a breakfast of pancakes and egg whites courtesy of Kirk. A frequent traveler himself, Kirk told me a few stories about his experiences where I had been in the US and where I would be going, giving some useful guidance. Soon I was out the door for the day, on my way to none other than the San Diego Zoo.
I love zoos, though I can't recall exactly when I was at one last, and have been told that San Diego has one of, if not THE best in the country (The Bronx Zoo being the noteworthy east coast rival). I've never written a review of a zoo before, so here is my best attempt:
Located right off of the freeway and less than a mile from downtown, the San Diego Zoo is one of the few private enterprise (albeit non-profit) zoos in the country, and you know it as soon as you get out of your car. Everywhere from the parking lot trash cans to the animal combines to the restrooms places emphasis on sustainability of the earth and its creatures. SDZ certainly wants you to believe in its its noble mission statement and rationale for operating without government funding when you are paying for your $40 per person day pass ticket. Even on an overcast day at 10:30am the line to get in the door was sizable with families big and small, domestic and foreign, all excited to go see their favorite animals. My first steps, alas, were towards the bathroom and ATM (which only charges a $2 fee, making it roughly the best deal to be found in the park). My griping was soon silenced after getting my fix of thrice certified free-trade coffee (for which they charged $1 per certification, it seemed), which was brewed entirely too week but still got me up and going.
My analytical mind reasoned that the best way to cover the whole place was to start on the far west of the zoo and work my way east. This made my first animal exhibit the Reptile House. With my significant height advantage over the average zoo-goer I was able to make quick work of what I always found to be the least exciting animals at the zoo, largely due to their sedentary tendencies. Nevertheless, I began to realize the extensiveness of the San Diego Zoo's collection, refusing to let fewer than a dozen species represent every family (remember your K.P. COFGS?). Furthermore this zoo did a great job in not omitting any of the top 100 or so animals that a kid would want to see, regardless of the endangerment stature, which I first noticed in seeing the mega-carnivore Komodo Dragon:
In addition to enjoying the behaviors of the animals, I found myself people-watching on more than one occasion, seeing more than one kid on a leash and a few pounding on the glass without parent intervention. At the komodo dragon I heard a parent give the adorable misinformation that the "dragon" only breathes fire when kids are being perfectly silent, which of course would never happen. This comes in harsh contrast to the dead-serious misinformation I heard given by parents at some other exhibits, including the description of marsupials as mammals who evolved pouches in order to keep all of their "favorite sticks and shit" stored away for when they need them.
After the Reptile House I ventured into the jungle area, the cutesie name of which I can't recall, and quickly found that my west-to-east technique was not going to work due to the incessant overlapping and crossing of trails, each a ten minute or so walk in duration which empties you out into an entirely different end of the park, and with different exhibits visible to each path in order to entice you to go through all of them. Starting with some simians (mostly different variations of mangabes and macaques) I eventually stumbled upon the great apes, including the orangutan pen during feeding time, which is an incredible thing to behold:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glKZq1w6fRo
Alas, as I saw more Orangs swoop in with literally outstretched hands to the zookeeper it became entirely clear why captive animals can't just be released into the wild. Nevertheless, I did see some flamingos who seemed less than enthused to be in captivity:
After watching all of the animals nibble away, it was my turn to eat, and so I stopped by one of the food stands serving-up pan-Asian cuisine. After the most disappointing stir-fry of my life, I wandered around for a couple more hours before finally making my way to the big show, the main attraction, the feature presentation: the great panda.
So Anchor Man wasn't joking about how seriously San Diego takes its pandas. Their pens are behind closed doors, and there's a line around the block to get in just to get a peep at the buggers:
The line actually moved much faster than I would have suspected, and within 10 minutes I was at the threshold of panda land. I documented this priceless first glimpse of the cutie on both video and stills:
Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wsJNnrhVDeY
So maybe they totally live-up to they hype. The video and pictures make the animal look farther away, but in reality I was just 10 feet from the little guy, plopped down on his back and nibbling away with hind feet sticking straight up and gently eyes surveying all of us as we surveyed him. I had definitely saved best for last.
I left the zoo around 3pm, grabbed a fruit smoothie and came back to Kurt's place where the most recent Harry Potter film was about to be screened. I then began this blog and ran out for a quick bite to eat at a place called Rubio's. In the few days since last I had Chipotle I had forgotten just how much I love the fast-fresh restaurant style (Panera Bread, Chipotle, Pei Wei, etc.). Maybe it's the quick turnover of high quality grub, or maybe it's the no-tip nature of counter service, but I can't get enough of it, especially when we're talking burritos. Southern California is the epicenter of fast fresh joints, featuring many that never make it inland. I don't know what Rubio's territory is, but I sincerely hope that they make their way to the east coast ASAP. Have you ever had a fish taco? It's basically fried fish sticks in a taco shell with veggies and accompanying sauce, and is all the rage right now. Though delicious, I try and keep away from the fried foods as much as possible. Enter the grilled salmon burrito. I KNOW! It was totally out of left field but I just had to try it:
What I received was a whole wheat tortilla wrapped around fresh grilled salmon (very generous on the fish), roasted corn w/ green chillies, and all melded together with lots and lot of fresh guacamole. My first bite... confused me. I tasted the guac and corn, and my brain instinctively tried to fill-in the blanks with the rest of the ingredients that I would expect from my Chipotle chicken burrito. After a few more bites I got the hang of it, and by the end of the burrito I had figured out exactly what the flavor melding was all about. Anybody who watched me eat this thing was probably freaked-out by my puzzled reactions, but no worries. Bottom line: it was good! Honestly I still prefer my good old Chipotle, but this was really a good product. What left such a huge impact on me, however, was how much I loved what was in it from a health perspective. Since I can't have Chipotle for every meal of every day (as much as I would love that), it would be great to have a joint like this back in Baltimore so that I could switch it up with some tasty, healthy fish every now and again (also available was blackened Mahi Mahi).
After dinner I grabbed a green tea at a local coffee shoppe and stopped-in at Whole Foods to get ingredients for a new batch of home-made trail mix (how very Cali of me). This batch is composed of almonds and dried cherries again, this time flanked by pumpkin seeds for some salt and change in texture, flax seeds for oh so many reasons, dried coconut flakes to get the good coconut oils give some island flair, and dark chocolate nibs for antioxidants (and maybe a little taste while I'm at it). This should keep me fueled on the road tomorrow, for which I have a huge day planned. It may take until Thursday to update about the fear and loathing to ensue, but please keep posted!
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