We have a 3:45 am alarm set to make it to the airport on time in the morning, so I will ask you to be patient for the details of our final day in San Diego. We did it up right, and I hope to get some shut-eye before that alarm goes off. Thanks for understanding.
We’ll see how this works. I am sitting on a balcony at a Best Western Hotel in San Diego, CA. There are people in the pool five floors below to my left, there is still an occasional plane landing at the only airport in the US with just one runway, and I can hear other voices and vehicles but can’t tell where they are coming from. Traffic goes by, but the cars are few compared to noon time. There is a well lit fishing boat coming into the harbor. I hope the guys that paid to go fishing are coming home with a good catch. I could get used to living in this city because of its temperature, things to do, historical significance and abundance of US military and retirees. That being said, we probably couldn’t afford it, and I won’t leave my family on the east coast.
Last night we were serenaded by a couple of seals at 1:30 am. I was awakened, but smiling. It’s been a long time since I have heard their barking. Today when we asked, we were told they were probably begging fish trimmings from one of the boats. After supper as we walked the boardwalk we looked for the culprits, but didn’t see them.
Below is a picture out the back side of our hotel. This is a typical neighborhood in San Diego. The unique part is our hotel is one sided, meaning there are only rooms facing the bay. I’ve never seen a hotel that didn’t have rooms on both sides of the hall.
We aren’t crazy about hotel breakfasts, so when money or time isn’t an issue we go looking for locally owned places to eat. Today, in Old Town, we found the Livingroom Cafe. Our server was a lady in her 40’s. She was pleasant, anxious to make sure we were satisfied, and helpful with directions.
Above is the patio we shared with other guests. It was interesting because of the signs in the trees. At one point, without total awareness, I thought their huge coffee cups looked like rolls of toilet paper. They were about the same size. (Note: Bob says if we ever do this type of extended trip again, we are bringing our own toilet paper. The stuff we have been using, made for older systems that need coddling. tends to shred before it’s done its job.)
Below is my omelette. One can only eat so many huevos rancheros. I haven’t had much fruit lately, so finished that and left part of the omelette. Bob also had an omelette, but with a lot more spice to it. The homemade toast was delicious.
After we ate, we toured Old Town. Lots of history, gift shops, and the cactus I have longed to become acquainted with.
And another one. If you look at the bottom left corner of the plant you can see it is large enough to give one shelter. The lady was reading a book.
Once done in Old Town we got on, paid handsomely to ride, the Hop on/Hop off trolley that tours around the city. I can’t tell you how many museums we could have visited, It was a lot. The historical neighborhoods were driven through, and there was a running commentary from the jovial, retiree age drivers. It was very interesting. To see part of Gaslight town we were advised to get off at one stop and walk to the next. Well, there aren’t too many public toilets waiting for people like me on a street corner so we had an unplanned lunch at Roma Mia. I had a cold, sweet glass of wine and Bob ordered iced tea.
We shared some tiramisu, which is the best I have ever had. Our bathroom stop cost us $30.00, but it was worth it.
Back on the trolley we went across the curved bridge to Coronado Island. Below is a picture of what the locals call a bouy town. Whomever, rents a bouy from the city for $160.00 a month, attaches their boat and lives on it. It is up to the individual to haul all necessary water, provisions, propane, etc, back and forth to the boat by dinghy. I don’t think I’m a candidate to live that way, but there is a four year waiting list to be able to do so. To each their own. The rent is so cheap you say, well yeah, if you don’t add in the cost of the boat, and the manpower necessary to make it all work.
Coronado has some beautiful beaches that beckon. Today neither Bob nor I thought walking a ways in soft sand was a good idea. The sun was hot and we are finally admitting traveling for almost four weeks has worn us down.
We stayed on the trolley and went back across the bridge getting to see part of the huge Navel Station that is located here.
More Navy vessels below. Bob’s granddaughter was stationed here when she was in the Navy.
We got off at the Balboa Park stop and visited the Veterans Museum. It was nothing compared to what we saw weeks ago in Illinois, but still reverent.
Neither Bob nor I knew that the Medal of Honor has a different design for the differing branches of service. I guess I’ve ever only been close to an Army one and thought there was only one style.
When we got back to the room, we were hot and tired. We rested a bit, cleaned up and walked across the street for some dinner. The pizza was not like any we have had any where so it was a good choice. The veggie pieces were cut larger, the sausage different than at home, and the crust much thinner. After, we walked the pier to see what interesting tidbit of fishing information we could glean, or critter we could see, with our destination Eppig Brewery where we chatted with Rob again. (He’s the guy we met last night, that is from Rochester.)
And now as I finish, still on the balcony. the seal is once again making his/her presence known. Wish I could see it.
We started our day with breakfast at the Lulu California Bistro, right next door to the Broken Yolk, but with food about the same, much better service and awards. Yet, I heard our server, Daryl, get reprimanded for still waiting on his customers when he had been told to go on break. I used to work in food service, and was thankful I no longer have to when I overheard what Daryl had to put up with. It’s still all about the buck, not the employee. Sad.
I took a picture of Lulu’s interior because of how it differed from yesterdays dinner; from Pioneertown to modern.
Another Huevos Rancheros. It can literally be presented any way one feels like as long as the ingredients remain somewhat the same. The best I have ever had has not been on this trip, but in Bakersfield, CA, a couple years back.
I have been sending postcards to my grandchildren along the way. This morning we asked where we might find a mail box. We never would have found this. It isn’t blue, nor big, but does fulfill the need.
We decided to stay off of highways for the most part and took “back roads” on our way to San Diego. The below photo was taken in Mountain Center. In the car, I could see those mountains off in the distance as real things, not a haze in the yonder.
The next scene is from Aguanga, CA. So beautiful in person. Once again, Bob enjoyed driving the winding, well banked roads. I was able to look out to the horizon in some cases.
And another from Anguana, CA. We are now in greenery and noticeable habitation. It was a relief. The terrain was more like western New York state, though not the same flora. We have once again started seeing cows, horses, and some deer among the trees.
There is a special man in our lives that wants some boulders to put along the driveways of his rental properties in order to keep people from driving on the lawns. We found them. Alas, they are on the wrong side of the country.
We have arrived in San Diego. This is our view for tonight and two more nights. It is cool by the water and we enjoyed sitting on our balcony to unwind, read our email, marvel we could keep the drapes open and not have anyone see in our room, and be thankful we drove 3,922 miles with no car trouble.
We went across the street and had supper at Mitch’s. Bob’s swordfish was fresh and delicious, but only came with a baby serving of coleslaw. My poke bowl (poke meaning fresh fish) was just the tuna and some corn chips. We were still hungry.
We walked further away from the hotel and found the Eppig brewing company where Rob (in the blue) and Mike poured us some beer and served us some hummus to finish filling the hole. Here comes another small world story, Rob is from the same suburb that my daughter lives in and he will be back home in Rochester on Columbus Day weekend. We exchanged phone numbers and have intentions of meeting up at Iron Smoke Brewery in Fairport, NY, where the owner is a long time friend of his. My daughter and her special man, Gino, will be invited to join us as Rob and Gino went to high school in the same suburb. The best part of this whole trip has been the people we have met and connected with.
Walking back to the hotel we noticed the Great Blue Heron hanging out with the gulls along the marina waterfront. Since I attended a writing retreat in Vermont, in July, herons have a special place in my heart. (Hi Ann, Charli, Dede, and Jules.)
We also noticed many boats with lots of lights on, and lines of men, and a few women, along the walkway. We stopped and asked questions. Turns out the paid fishing excursions leave the night before in order for the boats to have time to motor out 15 to 20 miles before daybreak. Then they fish for tuna during the day light and get back in tomorrow around dark. I asked if the fisherman drink or sleep during the dark hours. You can guess the answer. My son would love to do one of these fishing trips.
A catch being unloaded. The fish have a numbered tag on them so they know which fish belong to which fisherman when they get back to shore. The trip costs about $350.00 per person. We didn’t stick around to see who cleans the fish, but I can just imagine the taste of that fresh catch.
We have only been in San Diego a few hours and already understand why people who move here, stay here.
Oh, our room to finish this trip is above par, except when I sit on the toilet the paper roll is literally in my arm pit. After all the hotels we have been in, in the last month, I feel like I could be an adviser to the designers. Maybe I should send some letters with my suggestions.
I don’t think I have mentioned, we are staying at Best Westerns whenever possible. We are rewards members and have earned a couple of free nights staying with the same chain. There are a couple of foibles to doing so; you take the location they offer, sometimes a gem and sometimes not, and each hotel is owned by a different person so the amenities are not always the same. In Tulsa we were given a free upgrade to a suite, in another location we were given our points and a couple of battles of water, in Elk City, OK, the desk person said let’s make sure you aren’t by the laundry or elevator. Thank you. Here in Palm Springs we accepted a room by the pool. Mistake, and it’s our fault we didn’t ask to be moved. The point, when you travel, open your mouth and ask for a quiet spot in the hotel. Generally they are cooperative.
Above is the view walking from the hotel parking lot to go across the street through the parking garage to the next street to have breakfast. It was 88 degrees at 10 am. and that mountain was a couple more streets away from the one we walked to. One thing about desert temperatures, the flowers are still blooming and the young women are running around in sleeveless sundresses. Most of them looked very attractive.
Above is the Broken Yolk Cafe menu. Below are my savory crepes. The food was good, my coffee lukewarm and our server uninterested. We sat outside and enjoyed watching the people walking by.
After breakfast Bob watched a bit of football. The games are on at decent times on the west coast. Then we took a ride to Palm Desert to find fabric depicting California landscape. I actually found some with windmills on it. Considering we have seen windmills the whole trip that selection was a no-brainer. We were happy the store was open on Sunday. We are not fans of the Spanish architecture and all the same adobe color.
We then took “back roads” towards Yucca Valley to find a restaurant we had heard about from more than one person. The picture below is typical California mountains. It looked like the road went no where.
Now we know where the road goes, right up over the top, through a slight pass. It was a pretty drive, in some areas four lanes and two in others.
We found Pappy and Harriet’s Pioneertown Palace out in those mountains. It has no cell service, but parking for over 100 cars. Dating from 1946, this rustic desert motel was a former movie set built by famed actor Roy Rogers. It’s 3 minutes’ walk from historic Pioneertown Main Street and 4 miles from Twentynine Palms Highway. It has been a biker bar and is now a “must visit” location for locals and travelers alike.
I was taken by the artwork in the bathroom. The first picture is the door to designate the ladies room, the next three are the stall doors.
Below is the best satirical sign I saw on the trip. The beer was extra cold, the food was yummy and the service was fine. We were seated with a couple named Mike and Jennifer. She took the picture of us, and I took a couple of them for their memory book. Once again, we made instant friends with an invitation to stay at their house should we ever travel through their state.
Below are a couple of pictures of the buildings that are part of Pioneertown. Very unique.
And us, having finished our dinner at Pappy and Harriet’s. I had ribs and Bob had a quesadilla.
I’m a lady that requires regular potty stops. Some travel companions would become impatient with me, but not my Bob. I only have to ask, and he stops even if it’s only been half an hour since we finished breakfast. He never tells me to limit my coffee and sometimes before we find a suitable place I feel like the lady below. I’d never seen a sign like this so had to share. Some of you might be thinking,,,TMI. Sorry. I thought it was fun.
While at this pit stop we watched a young man get out of a vehicle and drop an empty water bottle on the ground. I wish I had had the nerve to go pick it up, hand it to him and say, “I think you dropped this.” He went in the station/store too, and on the way out purposely stepped on the bottle and left it. That young man is not my kind of person and I’m glad we saw little of that attitude on our trip. Unfortunately that type of attitude was prevalent in Barstow and we were very glad to leave that town behind. Mind you that doesn’t apply to any hotel or restaurant patrons/workers we met.
Leaving Barstow we saw more arid desert and mountains. It’s hard to accept California is the most populated state in the US when half of it looks like the above picture.
Molly Brown’s had been recommended so that’s where we went for breakfast. The service was tops, Sharon told us we had an East Coast twang in our speech and I had yet another style of Huevos Rancheros. I sent the picture of the menu to my adult kids and my son wanted to know if anyone ever orders the Big Breakfast. We were told families do and then share. I wish we had seen that happen.
We haven’t found any funny bathroom signs lately, the one above doesn’t count, so I decided to share the sign below. It’s a good way to live one’s life.
Above is an example of “grass” in this region. It doesn’t exist. Many homes have just dirt, this place had what they refer to here as “crunchy” grass. I have to say I will enjoy seeing our green, full of weeds, lawn and maple trees when we get home. Below are two pictures from the “Bottle Ranch” we had also been told not to miss. I’m not sure what the date of 1883 refers to, but the sign proves we were on the road we wanted. The bottle displays were many, varied, and colorful. It appeared someone had made all the bottle trees by welding spokes on an iron pole. The welding was rough, but the job got done. I only noticed the quality because my father was a welder in his day.
We continued on historic 66 through the mountains, again, on our way to San Bernardino. The silver ribbon through the center of the picture is the line of traffic. We learned later, most of them headed toward Los Angeles.
We found this nice mural outside a Rt 66 museum on 5th in San Bernardino. The building housed the original McDonald’s opened in 1948. Today it belongs to a happy, singing on the street, African American gentleman that welcomed us with song and a big smile. Inside the take-out restaurant we entered the museum for free. I can’t say I’ve ever been greeted that way anyplace I’ve visited. We will talk about it for a long time. Of course when he saw our New York license plate, he assumed we were from New York City, but that’s common and we didn’t try to correct him.
When we got back in the car we kissed our EZ 66 Guide good-bye and put it away. We left the route to go south to Palm Springs and left the traffic behind. We’ve driven in LA before, and have no desire to do it again, though we have family and friends there.
The mountains are still present, but have a bit different look and feel. We once again found ourselves surrounded by windmills. These weren’t as big as the ones we saw in Oklahoma, but the number was comparable.
And still the mountains prevail.
Our GPS had the last laugh today when we got in to Palm Springs. It took us to the locked back gate of our hotel. We figured it out, eventually. We are among flowers, palm trees, and it appears a lot of shopping with few residents. There has to be houses away from the highways we can’t see.
After some decompression time, we jay-walked across the street to Shanghai Reds. Siri came through again. We had tasty fresh oysters as an appetizer and then a wonderful dinner served by Javier. I had cioppino, a seafood stew. We were told the seafood comes in fresh each day from Santa Monica. Then we stayed to listen to the blues band. We love an empty dance floor and one song was good for our old style of swing, that is ours alone, no lessons under our belts. To get to dance under an open sky is a huge treat. It’s a lot of fun, more so than dancing in the rain, which we have also done.
The menu above; and our oysters below.
My Cioppino; the fresh scallops were the best. I soaked up some of the broth with garlic bread.
The blues band. Who knows what their name is, but we enjoyed their talents. And I don’t know the significance of the “Union Ice Company” either.
We are officially off Rt 66, but our time in California is not done. I’ll be back tomorrow night.
Each night when I finish writing, Bob proof reads my work, and then I publish it for you to enjoy. Writing daily is one of the perks of this trip. If I’m smart I will continue to do it when I get home. If you know me, you know there is this long manuscript waiting for my attention once I get back to New York. Not the city, but over near Niagara Falls. When you are out of New York state, people assume you are from the city. We have given up and say Niagara Falls, because they know that is not near the city. It’s all a part of living in western New York State.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOB
Where do you take the Jewish kid for breakfast on his birthday? A bagel shop of course. We checked out of the Mirage and wanted to get off “The Las Vegas Strip” for breakfast so we wouldn’t have trouble parking the car we had to give a few fingers for to get back from valet. Not complaining, we knew that going in, but jeeesh, expensive, like downtown Boston. When I spotted Einstein’s Bagels I knew that was the place. Of course I’m the one that had lox and Bob had an egg sandwich. I think it was the best bagel I have ever had, mostly because it wasn’t hard to bite or chew. I liked the poster in the shop because it represents the many nationalities and different American ethnicities we have met along the road this month.
On Rt. 15 South out of Vegas going to Barstow, CA, we saw another huge solar farm. The shiny part of the picture below that looks like a lake is really solar panels. This particular landscape is well suited for this because it isn’t good for anything else but some bugs and wildlife. Yes, that is sand in the forefront of the picture as this is the Mojave Desert.
I also found some cool cacti to photograph. You are probably wondering why so many pictures of the same landscape. Well, it’s because that is what we have seen for many days. And they call the mid-west, the fly-over states where there is nothing but fields.
Below is also on Rt. 15. Changing elevation from 5000 feet above sea level to 2000 feet. That’s a big sand bowl in the distance (the grey sliver.) You can see the trucks climbing slowly toward us.
Below; This looked like a big cat stretched out on someone’s lap. See the ears, back and curly tail. Who knows why that spot was sand and not rock, but it got my attention.
The “rabbit” below was on our bed when we checked in to the hotel in Barstow. We thought it a homey touch. There were also ear plugs by the clock-radio. Uh oh. We have heard one train, but we are used to them, so no big deal. I know these pictures aren’t very exciting, but that’s the kind of day it has been. We have done laundry and now are going out to have a nice meal for my honey’s birthday.
So Google did us a favor, again. We asked what restaurants were near-by and picked the Idle Spurs for a nice dinner. The place is well known to the locals and travelers alike as it is just a few minutes off Rt. 66. We had reservations but ate at the bar once we got to talking with Howard and his wife, and then Suzanne and her husband, Wayne. We realized when we got back to the room no one had made a comment about Bob’s mustache, very unusual. The parking lot had lots of cars when we pulled in and they were happy we gave up our table to eat at the bar. The welcoming card, and verse are below.
The verse is especially true at this moment in our lives as the people we have met on this journey have made it special for us. We will be talking about the individuals for a long time and realize we were probably just one of many in their lives.
Rachel (below) made Bob’s night when she brought him a chocolate sundae with a candle in it for his birthday. And yes, Suzanne insisted we sing. Rachel was an attentive server to us, and a good bartender as she listened to us talk but made sure her staff got the drinks they needed for their tables in quick order. She knew Suzanne well and we listened to their conversation as they listened to ours. We got good recommendations for restaurants for the next couple of days, and left the Idle Spurs knowing if we ever get to Barstow again, we have a friendly place to go. The decorations inside what used to be a house were from our era and fun to reminisce about. My prime rib and Bob’s London Broil were perfection.
The birthday boy.
Sue Spitulnik 