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Published: March 11th 2015
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Blissful sleep-in morning. Today the plan is to hook up with Vi's cousin Mike, who lives in San Diego.
Mike and his wife (whom we have never met before) pick us up around 11 and whisk us to brunch at a really interesting restaurant called the 94th Aero Squadron. The restaurant sits alongside an old airfield that is still used by smaller single-engine planes and vintage aircraft. The restaurant picks up this theme and features decor and memorabilia from the air forces of the first and second world war. The spread is fantastic, especially the seafood, which includes about three different types of salmon, numerous shellfish, Alaska king crab and much more. Bottomless champagne flutes ensure that everyone is happy. We eat outside on a patio, where we have front-row seats to planes and helicopters landing and taking off. Another absolutely brilliant day weather-wise. Brilliant blue sky with nary a cloud. The sun is blinding and hot. Sunglasses in San Diego are de rigueur.
Following lunch, Mike drives north, heading for the highest point in San Diego, Mount Soledad. I find once again that the landscape reminds me of LA: high surrounding hills cut through by deep canyons. We
reach the summit, where stands a striking memorial to U.S. service men and women killed in action. The views of the surrounding city and, in the distance, the cliffs and beaches marking the boundary of land and sea, are absolutely spectacular. The air is so clear and luminous, it's like waking up in the land of Oz after being in Kansas.
We descend, continuing northwest, to the district of La Jolla Heights, where Mike lives. The neighborhood spreads out over several rolling hills, so that the streets are winding and always climbing or descending. Beautiful modern homes, most with a Spanish flair, as if heartening back to San Diego's roots. We enter Mike's place and—saints be praised—there's a piano! That's the end of me for the next few hours. Fingers are stiff, but they still know what to do.
Later on, Mike's wife graciously offers to drive us down to La Jolla Beach. It's a gorgeous area. More cliffs than beach (and, in fact, swimming is not allowed). The sidewalk snakes along the cliff, with crashing waves to one side and beautiful gardens and green spaces to the other. Here and there are places where you can scramble
down to the rocks below and, in some cases, get close to the marine life. There are pelicans galore, as well as a host of other seabirds. Further along are seals languishing on rocks, barking at each other to preserve their placement. Funny little squirrels with stubby tails dart out of the heather to snatch scraps dropped by passers-by.
A little further south we can just make out Mission Beach, famous for surfing. But the light is already fading and it's time to go.
Mike takes us to his boat, moored at a local yacht club, where we sit inside and catch up on developments. It's now close to 9 pm and we refuel with some Vietnamese soup from a favourite local pho restaurant before Mike drops us back at the hotel. Good day.
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