San Diego: Drink it in..

A WHALE’S VAGINA

There:  I got the Anchorman reference out of the way nice and early. Now we can all move on with our lives. 

The face of San Diego

It took two hours to ride the Greyhound from Venice Beach to San Diego. For some reason that now evades me, I decided we'd depart LA at 7am- possibly to ‘get the best of the day’ having arrived in the new city. We therefore began in the addled blur that accompanies waking up at four in the morning after both our alarms failed to go off. I couldn’t tell you about the ride itself as I spent the best part of it snoring and wrapped around the Graduate in a way that afforded me the best possible comfort and left him with a pair of dead legs and a headache. When we pulled into the station, however, we found ourselves on the brink of a sea of people: as apparently the population of San Diego had also risen early to run some sort of rock-music marathon. Everywhere we went we saw people swathed in tin foil, gulping water and stretching out their hamstrings.

We stayed at the incredibly affordable Lucky D's Hostel, right on the border of the old Gaslamp Quarter: the hub for cheap drinks and young trendies. The deeply apathetic man on the front desk gave us the key to our room and told us we could check in- withholding the fact that the previous occupant was in fact still in residence, which was something of a surprise when I tried to get into the room.  Returning to the front desk we were unapologetically told to come back in four hours, but at least they let us dump our bags in the office. 

The Gaslamp Quarter is a medley of restaurants and bars that stretches for several blocks, marked by some ‘old’ iron streetlamps and an arched sign welcoming visitors and tourists. With so much local competition, this is the place to go when hunting for cheap drinks: the bars jostle each other for the best happy hour deals and cheap meals, and there’s something going on every night of the week.

Pecto Park, San Diego Padres vs. Toronto Blue Jays

 Lucky D's was right on the doorstep of the Petco Park stadium, so on the first night we attended our first ever Major League Baseball game: San Diego Padres vs. The Toronto Blue Jays. That we didn’t understand the league or the sport itself was nowhere near enough to deter us: after all, they had pulled pork sandwiches.  For $10 each we could sit on the grassy lawn on the far side of the stadium, so the field and the stands reared up in front of us, and the view- at least for two people who don’t know how baseball works- was perfectly clear. The game itself was about average in terms of exciting moments, but it was worth it for the moments when the cameras zoomed in on people in the audience, who displayed a plethora of reactions when they realised they were on display, my favourite being a middle-aged man, wearing only gold glitter from the waist up, who greeted the screens with a dramatic flourish and slow spin. It was so popular they replayed the clip for the rest of the evening.

As a city, I didn’t really know what to make of San Diego. It felt the most like a Sim City (designed by a fourteen-year old with no particular architectural merit) out of any place I visited: and the blocking system of houses and offices seemed more obvious than anywhere else I’d visited. But the public transport system was great: all Americans who tell you it’s impossible to survive without a car in SoCal are LYING, and much more affordable than San Francisco.

Outside the Old Town

 We took the metroline up to visit the historic Old Town, which was like the set of an old Western, full of small stores containing tobacco pipes and throwing knives; glass-fronted chocolate cabinets; a Wells Fargo Wagon; and shelf upon shelf of exotic dried teas. This small patch contained the origins of San Diego, where the Spanish settled and promptly left again, after finding there was very little fertile land there. With walking tours and lots of small exhibitions, it’s well worth a look. After a couple of hours exploring,we took a rattling bus up to the Cabrillo National Monument and Point Loma lighthouse: a perfect whale watching spot and outcrop that looks over the whole of San Diego, the naval aircraft hangers in the bay and the built up skyscrapers of the central district. It wasn't whale season, but there were a couple of fighter jets doing flybys over the Marina Bay, which in The Graduate’s books was just as exciting.

 

Speaking of jets, we also stumbled upon a small bar and grill called the Kansas City BBQ by the Marina, which was a filming location for Top Gun. The walls were full of paraphernalia, the ceiling was hung with bras, and we shared a rack of ribs with the cheekiest sparrows known to mankind.  

Silverback Gorilla at San Diego Zoo

Although Sea World was slightly crippling in terms of entry fee, we couldn’t leave without visiting the San Diego Zoo. We missed the pandas (the queue to get in to see them was ridiculous so if anyone has their heart set on the black-and-white beasts I’d suggest you get there as early in the morning as you can) but managed Gorillas, Tigers, and a very enthusiastic Polar Bear. If animals are your thing then set aside a full day to explore this extraordinary menagerie.

Of course, the people were all insanely friendly. On our last night we found a bar serving Tezcal beer for $1.75 and got chatting to a helicopter pilot. He was so delighted with our accents he rang his sixteen-year-old son and made me have a conversation with the poor boy- I could feel the awkwardness seeping out of the phone- and then bought us a pair of luridly blue shots and told us all about the collapse of his first marriage, and the time he flew over a dead lake in Nevada and accidentally interrupted the shooting of a porn film there. Then he offered us a free canoeing trip on his Uncle’s river in the Napa Valley. Only in America…

Next stop, Vegas. You stay classy. 

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