San Diego, CA: Day 1 and 2

I am writing about sunny California today, but I have to admit, I'm not really thinking about it. This past Monday I had brain surgery...er...my wisdom teeth removed. I've been in a narcotic-induced stupor for the past four days with the shades pulled down and my head under a heavy blanket. Not vacation-y at all.

This California adventure began as an engineering conference at the San Diego convention center where I imagine spectacled middle-aged men in suits hawked their technological wares to other middle-aged men with badges and free nylon totes. Totally boresville. Luckily, Britton was invited to the conference and told me I could stay with him fo' free as long as I paid the airfare.

Having never been to California but completely bought by the notion that it is the greatest state in the union, I made arrangements to fly out the day after Britton arrived.

I am working on being discreet concerning business-related subjects, so I will not mention Britton's employers' or any vendors' business expenses throughout the trip. May it suffice to say that our accommodations were nice and Britton and his coworkers were well-received.

DAY 1:

The plane rides from Atlanta to Houston then Houston to San Diego were awful. A giant snow storm was hitting the Midwest and the Northeast, creating massive delays and lots of angry fliers. By the time I got to the hotel from the airport it was 5:30PM central time and I hadn't eaten anything in 14 hours. At dinner that night I was ready to rip someone's head off for a sesame roll.

The hotel itself was once a large bank. The conference room in the hotel was originally the main vault. The ridiculously large door is still intact, and the room is lined with safety deposit boxes.

Everything in the common areas was ornately decorated, but the individual rooms were updated and felt like any modern hotel.

The railings around the bar and dining area as well as at the front desk still had the original teller numbers and signs.

While Britton was at the conference, I had plenty of time to have breakfast and take in the sights at my own pace. I decided to walk down to the waterfront to a little restaurant called Cafe 222 (on 222 Island Avenue) per Britton's coworkers recommendation.

I was surprised to read that the restaurant had been featured on the Food Network's "Best Thing I Ever Ate" for their Peanut Butter and Banana Stuffed French Toast, so of course, I had that. It was delicious (though not the best I've ever eaten.) It was like a deep-fried peanut butter and banana sandwich. A week later and I think it is still sticking to the inside of my stomach.

Their coffee was awesome. The coffee mugs had cartoon characters of the restaurants proprietor Terryl Gavre and her husband Sam. The cup said "I had breakfast with Terryl and Sam." So cute. Must vomit.
Another thing I noticed about all the restaurants in San Diego...they had an A.

I had to go to Los Angeles to even see a B, and it was at the cesspool known as Hollywood and Vine.

California? Hello? What's up? Why you tryin' to make me sick?

After breakfast, I ran back to the hotel to put pants on because it was super windy. I then had a moment of clarity mid leg hole and thought, hey, I can take PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION.

Normally, public transportation would be out of the question. MARTA. Say no more. But apparently San Diego's MTS had won some kind of award. So instead of milling around downtown all day, I hopped on the bus to Old Towne.

I was thrilled to find that right outside the transit station was a state park. It was a bit kitschy - mostly gift shops, restaurants, and school children walking around with their fingers in their noses.
But they had an interesting town square with historic farmhouses sitting right next to some lovely semi-wooded hillsides. And the flag of California proudly flying. It has a bear on it!

Slipping through a couple employee parking lots, I found the Bazaar del Mundo, a place full of expensive things that I wanted to buy. The shops were mostly Latin American and Central American crafts including decor, rugs, ceramics, clothing, jewelry, and other neat thing-a-ma-jigs.
I probably spent two hours running around, gawking at all the wonderful merchandise and talking to the shop owners.

Can I put this on my wedding cake?

I took the bus back to my hotel and dolled myself up for dinner with some vendors and Britton's coworkers. The picture below is the remnants of the surf n turf. I was not expecting the whole freaking lobster.

DAY 2:

After falling asleep at what would have been 2 AM Eastern and waking up at what would have been 9 AM Eastern, I still felt like I was a bit of a zombie on Day 2. I walked down to the convention center with Britton's coworkers where we had breakfast at Cafe 222 (again) per my recommendation.

After Britton and his comrades split to go to the conference, I dallied around the convention center and took in the scenery. It was magnificent. I walked to the mini peninsula in the picture below which turned out to be a circuits-style fitness park and jogging path. I did not know this at the time, but the cliff in the distant right is Cabrillo National Monument.

After the convention center, I walked over to Lion Coffee for a cup to go. I headed over to Horton Plaza, an outdoor shopping mall which has several courtyards with lots of higher end shops including my favorite Ann Taylor Loft and the largest XXI I've ever seen (below.)

Midway through what may have been a wonderfully tragic shopping spree, my phone rings demanding I reconvene with the conventioneers for lunch and a trip to the USS Midway.

Converted into a museum, the USS Midway is a conventional air craft carrier which served after the end of WWII. She served in Operation Frequent Wind in 1975, evacuating Vietnamese and trapped Americans after the Vietnam War. Also in Operation Desert Shield and Operation Desert Storm in the early 90's.

Here is Britton, reenacting a scene from The Prisoner with this weather balloon.

It was so windy, Britton let me borrow his blazer. We are waiting in line to see what I am going to call the "control tower" though I do not if that is its official name.

Wind-burned and tired, we walked back to the hotel to get ready for dinner. We took a wild taxi drive to Mission Beach and dined at JRDN, a place that screamed ritzy SoCal. The patio looked out onto the Pacific Ocean and of course, there was a glorious outdoor fire pit.