San Diego's Burning

Day One – Fri. 10/19

Picked up Enterprise car – no problema. A Mitsubishi Lancer – a worthy substitute for Virginella. A BK drive-thru then a few gas stops. Tension: thought my cell phone was missing. Arrived in LA in five hours.

Day Two – Sat. 10/20

Up early for dentist appointment. One hour later I’m seated in “Lance,” flu shot completed. With all the bad stuff now over, I’m off for Target, World O’Travel and a haircut with Liz. Hopefully I’ll be able to catch the end of the UCLA-Cal game.

Day Three – Sun. 10/21

Five months later, I’m seated in another rose garden overlooking another city. It’s a beautiful day, over 80° but breezy. The difference is, this time the roses are blooming and the aroma is heavenly. I’d like to dawdle, but since I’m unsure how far away the Old Globe is, it’s time to stroll.

Intermission: cold and sleepy (darn that air conditioning). The play (“Oscar and the Pink Lady”) has moments and a certain charm. Rosemary Harris is very likeable, but not quite up to the task in my humble opinion. Now, the sun is warming me and I smell the eucalyptus in the air. I am so ready for a nap at the beach. I’m really hoping it will be a breeze getting to the Inn, with no parking problem so I can catch a few winks before Lifehouse.

Day Four – Mon. 10/22

This stretch of sand is now familiar. Last November I sat in this spot and enjoyed a warm autumn respite. Today, clouds of smoke have blown over the Pacific as eight wildfires rage in the eastern hills.

After leaving Balboa Park yesterday, I spotted the first streaks of brown in the SoCal sky,
And by the time I reached Pacific Beach and strolled to the end of Crystal Pier, the sun was blood red as it sank into the sea. I woke up coughing, with the taste of combustion at the back of my throat. I flipped on the news to discover that over 200,000 acres were burning, thousands of people were being evacuated and many major highways had been closed.

As I donned my walking shoes and headed out for coffee, I discovered life at the beach goes on: joggers jogging (some with dust masks), surfers surfing, vacationers doing what they do best.

Yesterday was a fine day. It began a little behind schedule at 9:00 a.m. as I departed Woodland Hills with a slightly foggy head after almond champagne, Ravenswood Zinfandel and an Irish coffee the night before. The folks took me and Bill to Kate Mantelini, which was a lot of fun and tasty despite their serving the world’s smallest $7.50 crabcake appetizer. (It was the size of a medium scallop. I’m not kidding.)

I’d planned to stop at Adele’s in San Clemente for breakfast, but as it appeared to no longer exist, I wandered a few blocks to the Sunrise Café and had a yummy and cheap breakfast burrito with bacon. Sitting in the warm sunshine on a busy corner in the Spanish-themed town was a treat and a great start to the adventure.

The drive was easy from there to Balboa Park. I decided to postpone the Old Town stop due to my late departure. It was pretty warm there on the hill and as my sleep had been disrupted by the raging Santa Anas, my energy was waning. I found a cool quiet spot beneath a bevy of humming bird feeders and tapped into my vigor reserve.

“Oscar and the Pink Lady” at the Cassius Carter Theater had some lovely moments and a poignant theme, but as previously mentioned I don’t think Rosemary Harris was the right casting choice. She was, however, game and charming and gave it her best. Perhaps with a different director . . .

What a wonderful surprise the Diamond Head Inn was. I pulled into a parking spot right in front and was quickly checked into my stylish abode. The studio/kitchenette had been completely redone in hip faux-Island décor, with granite countertops, wood shutters and eclectic shell lamps. The Pacific is just steps from the front door and I found it impossible to believe that this little gem costs less ($90.00 per night) than most cheesy Hotel Circle chain motels. So what if there’s no parking? How soon can I come back?

Although in desperate need of a nap, the ocean beckoned – so I strolled out to the beach walk to watch the cinnamon sunset and check out the neighborhood. In no time, it was necessary to depart for House of Blues in the Gaslamp Quarter. I decided to be late, since I knew there was an opening act.

At 7:20, there were hundreds of fans in line waiting to get in, even though the tickets said the show started at 7:00. At will call, I was told Lifehouse wouldn’t go on until 9:45. Two hours of standing in a pack of strangers didn’t sound like that much fun, so I reverted to the original plan of heading five blocks down the street to “The Field” for a beer and snack.

The dark Irish pub was having a “session” – eight musicians gathered around a table playing traditional tunes. It reminded me so much of my pub stop in Auckland. Soon after ordering a creamy Bodhington Ale, a retired vacationer settled into a stool next to me and introduced himself as Seamus from Dublin. He was charming and talkative and it was 9:00 p.m. before I knew it.

I walked straight into HOB (no line!) and caught the end of the opening act, “The Midland State” who were quite good. Then repositioning on the floor behind short people, I had a perfect view of the hot, young Mr. Jason Wade as Lifehouse blasted through a two hour set. I was really impressed that these barely post-teens had such professional chops. They put on a great show – it probably didn’t hurt that it was being filmed. The crowd wasn’t quite as young as I had anticipated and I had consumed enough ale to feel like a hip oldster. The homeless guys on the street calling me beautiful didn’t hurt. When you’re in your fifties you take your compliments where you can get them.

After a very long day it was time to hit “the Border” for a much delayed snack and return to the little island paradise where there was one parking spot left. Just for me.

It’s approaching noon Monday, so now that I’ve had a walk, some coffee, zucchini bread and some quality time on the sand, I’ll shower up, maybe make it to Old Town for a taco and then back to Balboa Park for the Dead Sea Scrolls exhibit. It’s tempting to stay and gawk at cute surfers, but I’m burning daylight.

9:50 p.m.: Listening to the hum of the city and the ocean’s muted roar . . .I did make it to Old Town, but I went the long way via Mission Point Park and the Paradise Point Resort. I stopped at each and strolled while enjoying the still sunshine. It was hard to fathom that the wind was gusting up to fifty per hours in the canyons to the east.

I didn’t get to Old Town until 1:45, which gave me little time to hang out, but I did a quick walk through (once again) and grabbed a fast taquito combo plate at La Piñata, San Diegos oldest restaurant. I jammed back to Balboa Park and arrived at the Natural History Museum five minutes before my 3:00 p.m. entrance time.

I spent the next two hours immersed in the world of Qumran, learning of the scroll’s discovery by Bedouins and the painstaking research that followed, Finally, I entered the room with the actual parchments. The script was so tiny, I realized that ancient Israeli’s must have had excellent eyesight! I didn’t really emotionally connect until I stood before a copy of the Ten Commandments dating back to 100 bce (before the common era, the new pc term for pre-Christ). Also, the final passage from the Psalms was in such beautiful condition that it seemed timeless. Written as songs, the exhibit featured the haunting soundtrack of a young Hebrew girl singing softly. I exited quickly to catch the last showing of a virtual reality tour of Qumran and as I stood waiting outside the theater, my body flushed with the power and emotion of what I had just experienced.

Emerging into the warm San Diego sunshine was like entering a new world. Balboa Park was deserted and I lingered until the sun was low on the horizon. It was a cinch getting back to Pacific Beach but not quite as easy to find a parking space this time. I circled for a while and settled on a spot five blocks away, thereby missing the sunset. Back in the room, I watched more breaking news on the fires, spoke with Michelle and birthday boy Glenn and headed out for a Fatburger.

I’ll probably leave earlier than planned tomorrow, as I-5 is the only north-south artery open and exiting here may be a little problematic. Also, the smoke is hurting my lungs. I’m sorry to leave and I’ll probably have to forgo the planned Little Italy stop, but it’s been a fun and cultural getaway with a whole lot of excitement in the mix. I am really looking forward to some fresh Alpine air!

Here’s the a.m. plan:

7:30 Up/shower/pack
8:40 Belgian waffle breakfast
9:30 Beach time
10:30 Get car and check out
11:00 Hit the road . . .

Maybe I’ll finally have the time to stop in Randsburg?

8:34 p.m. 10/23

I’m home and glad to be here. I reluctantly got out of bed at 7:30 and jumped in the shower and got organized. I was at the waffle shop at 8:30 except it’s closed on Tuesday. I continued on to Koko’s Coffee, but there was a line people waiting for lattes, so I returned to the little coffee house around the corner, grabbed a simple brew and sat in the sunshine perusing the headlines.

The pier called my name just as two moms with three toddlers encamped next to me, and I spent a leisurely half hour gazing at the sea and watching surfers. I decide to head to the car to see if I could park closer to the inn and could only nab the “15 minutes” spot in front of the office. So I loaded up “Lance” said goodbye to the Diamond Head Inn and pointed toward IHOP at the corner of Garnet. It was so crowded that there was a long line just to get your name in, so I beat a hasty retreat and jumped on the I-5 North.

The smoke got thicker and thicker heading toward Del Mar, but traffic was unhindered. I zoomed through the brown skies while my chest burned. At San Onofre the sky became blue and I cut off at Business Route 5 through San Clemente in search of a waffle. How could I not stop at “Waffle Lady,” a tidy white cafe near the Interstate onramp? I had the rip-off breakfast of all time, two Belgian waffles with a thimble full of butter and a few tablespoons of coconut syrup that cost $1.50 extra. With coffee, the tab came to $10.98. It was good, but not great and that kind of bill for plain waffles should come with an ocean view. It was interesting to be surrounded by many fire evacuees, staying calm and plotting their strategies while adapting to uncertainties.

From there it was a straight jam to Bishop, with a gas stop near Yorba Linda, a detour through Randsburg and a stretch at Coso Junction. I had planned to shop and eat at home, but hunger got the better of me and I hit the salad bar at Sizzler.

For the last three days, I’ve hungered for the fresh pine scent of Sierra air, and it’s never smelled sweeter. I’m so glad I was able to enjoy my brief vacation – the music, drama and emotion of the Scrolls will be long remembered. But it’s hard to relax and have fun when people are suffering and you’re not sure you’re clear of danger. I’m so pleased to have experienced the wonderful cooperation, generous sharing and calm resolve of my neighbors to the south. It gave me a better outlook on our common humanity and made me proud to be a Californian. Hopefully, my next San Diego getaway will feature blue skies!