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Published: November 25th 2012
Pacific Ocean Cliffs
Hike to Razor Point in Torey Pines State ParkFrom the northeast to the southwest, two days after my graduation in New York City we flew 2,500 miles down to San Diego to attend my sister's. Everytime I go to southern California I'm struck by the difference in culture, and not in a particularly pleasant way. Maybe it's residual childhood resentment - us laid-back Pacific Northwesterners, with our messy hair, flannel covered arms and sock-filled sandals, standing ground against the influx of carefull coifed bleached-blond, busty, bikini babes and hard-bodies migrating north during the real-estate dot com boom of the early 90s. As kids we would roll our eyes at California license plates. "Oh they're from
California..." Pushy. Stuck up. Superficial. Can't drive. And honestly, parts of San Diego remind me exactly why we used to say that.
But I do like to believe that
every place on earth has a particular charm when viewed with the right frame of mind. So, putting aside my suspicion of people who voluntarily chose to live in places that lack definitive seasons (and then brag incessentily, trying to convince me this is a good thing) we handed the reins over to Valerie and set out to explore her adopted hometown with open
Flower of the Naked Coral Tree
Beautiful red bloom of Erythrina sp. (probably coralloides). minds.
Our first morning began with family breakfast at
Brockton Villa restaurant, in La Jolla (and as judgemental as we were as children we did get a few things wrong.
La Jol-la - ha! It's pronounced "la hoy-a," which I've known for at least a decade, but everytime I see it... ). The restaurant was built from a historic cliff-side cottage from the late 19th century, and was said to have been one of the locations which inspired children's author Theodor Geisel ("Dr Suess"). Easy to see why; tucked away inside the cove and surrounded by marine air and sea-lions, as we lingered over crab benedicts and bloody marys, the image-conscious anxiety of Mission Beach seemed miles away.
Then for dinner, my sister had made reservations at the famously historic, and purportedly haunted,
Hotel del Corando (known as "Hotel Del" in San Diego venacular). I had no idea where this landmark was located! With its iconic red turrets and sprawling beachside expanse, no way I'm passing up this photo opportunity before the sun goes down. So there I am, minding my own business and taking photos of the hotel when this .... guy (I will
not call him a gentleman) says
Hotel del Coranado
The picture I was taking of the famous, and reported haunted, Hotel Del when I was so rudely interrupted! to me, ""Haha, I
have to ask what you are doing. You're not Asian. What are you taking a picture of?" And then proceeds to mock me saying things like "Oh, look at that flower. I better take a picture of it...hyuck, hyuck."
Had I not been stunned speechless by his proud public display of racial stereotyping (not to mention my personal irritation that anyone would mock botanical photography - foliage is wonderful interesting), I would have responded thusly:
Sir, its interesting you choose to belittle my touristic photo taking on the grounds of this particular historic hotel. You know Urry traces the stigmatization of tourism back to the popularity of the seaside resorts - of which Hotel Del is a prime example - cropping up in the late 19th century. The proliferation of these resorts made them accessible to those outside the bourgeoisie and they rose in popularity among the middle class to the point that exclusivity was lost, after which they begin to become associated with notions of tasteless mass consumption, and tourism as you know it becomes the object of ridicule (of which you are no doubt guilty). So yes, I'm going to take a picture of this hotel; I don't feel any shame is doing so. It is you who should feel ignorant for not understanding the context and history of the action in which you are currently partaking. Hmmph!!
But it wouldn't have made a difference. My response would have played into the same game of distinction, just disguised as intellectual posturing. It's easy to disparage the tourist without trying to understand the underlying assumptions and social conditions that make it possible. The dilemma concerns primarily the middle-class - grasping so tenuously to the practices of the privledged and trying to hard to differentiate oneself from the practices of supposedly uncultured laborers. Still - makes me wonder just what he was doing there if not being a tourist; he
was a guest at the resort. Heh. We were merely invitees of a local resident.
Anyhow, I digress. I'm also a sucker for ghost stories, so had definitely
Mission Beach
Palm Tree Silouettes heard of this hotel before. Absolutely no way we were leaving without doing a little behind the scenes exploration. Slipping past the obtrusive "Guests Only" signs and up the dark, wooden staircase, our posse (perhaps not so quietly) sought to encounter some paranormal activity, or at least spook ourselves at the possibility. After some discussion of what will happen if they realize we're not actually guests, I remark that it won't matter. We're dressed the part of refined resort-goer having just come from a nice dinner, so even if we are jokingly looking for restless spirits in the anterooms, we won't be questioned. We 'look' classy, and that's what California is all about. Appearances.
No apperances of the supernatural sort that evening however (surprise, surprise), but the upstairs is precisely what you'd expect from an old haunted hotel. Long narrow hallways that twist and turn, dead-ending with no particular rhyme or reason. It felt like something out of the
The Shining. Even the elevator is an old vintage iron-doored cage, hand operated by an attendant in the lobby. No idea what the rooms themselves look like - surely they have to be more luxurious for the prices they command!
We'll have to come back and see it in the daylight sometime.
The rest of our short visit was spent allowing my sister to play host in the place she'd called home for the last several years. She had recently gotten an (already enormous) Malamute puppy so we, the parents and the fluffball all piled into a car and went down to
Balboa Park to take it for a walk. "Park" is a bit of an understatement - and this coming from the two of us who consider Central Park to be normal. It's
huge and serves as much more than just a spot of greenery in an urban area; its more of an outdoor cultural center. Musuems and botanical gardens, performing arts centers, restaurants, dog runs, grassy lawns, plazas ... I think the only thing it didn't have was a zoo. And best of all it was free (and prime grounds for botanical photography - which I love).
Supposedly we saw quite the rare bird in the cactus gardens, although I don't know how much I believe it. Another birder got
very excited as a bright yellow bird flew into a tree. After lots of pointing and
Torrey Pines State Park
Formations in the Torrey Sandstone sea cliffs shouts of excitement, we finally located the Hooded Oriole - only to have to fly right down and perch on a cactus in front of us. Camera at the ready, I got a few shots off before it flew away again. He told us these were a migratory bird species that wasn't in this area of California for very long. Okay - so maybe it's just rare to see
in these parts because I feel like I've seen orioles before.
After the family bonding, we really needed some time to ourselves, so drove out to
Torrey Pines State Park, home of the eponymous Torrey Pine (
Pinus Torreyana), one of the rarest and endangered pine species in North America, endemic to the San Diego area. We weren't prepared for much of a hike, but that's didn't stop us from making our way along the sandstone cliffs out to the Pacific. It was overcast in the morning, but by the time we we reached the overlooks the sun was starting to peak through the veil of mist. Oceans are wonderous things - to stare out towards the horizon and try to comtemplate the sense of space and distance between where we
Jacaranda Blossoms
I must admit, I was smitten with these purple flowers and all but obsessed with these trees down there. Gorgeous! Also the "official urban tree" of San Diego. are and the next living soul. Japan? Maybe someone on a freighter, slowly cutting across the current... It makes me yearn to be on the road again, out in the world again, travelling, touring, touristing, it doesn't matter which. A long weekend is just not long enough to feel a place out naturally, and trying harder just becomes counterproductive.
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Anastasia78
Anastasia78
Oh, they're from California....
I admit, I've rolled my eyes a time or two when I've heard the above. Great blog! Entertaining prose and the pictures are wonderful! Oh, and you and your sister are just beautiful! (Yes, I could tell which one was from California...)