San Diego Vacation- Part I
So it was really difficult for me to get out of bed this morning knowing I would be forced to complete my day without a single view like this one. Today was Monday, which would have been hard enough on its own, but it was also my first morning back to real life after a nine day separation from it.
This is what I found myself waking up to in the sweet, sweet assemblage of days that was last week. My husband and I spent those dreamy days in California, mainly in San Diego, with a little bit of Santa Monica and Los Angeles sprinkled in. (I don’t really count our time in L.A. as the majority of that was spent in the car- holy traffic jam life!)
We had been expecting to make a trip to Greece this year, but had to change our plans last minute when K realized his passport was expired and we couldn’t get it renewed in time. So we hopped on a plane headed in the opposite direction and ended up in sunny California.
Usually when we take a vacation, I am a freak about itineraries. Every hour needs to be accounted for, and every major attraction must be visited. My other half has an entirely different view on how a holiday should be spent; schedules are for the real world, and what you should be planning for is a lot of nothing- no work, no commitments, no itinerary. Just the thought alone makes me fidgety.
But with no adequate time for detailed planning, I did something I never do: I went out of town without making a single plan. Not even a loose rough draft. Thought I’d give into the situation and go with the flow. That’s the mindset in California anyway, isn’t it? Laid back and breezy. I was silently freaking out a bit…
Turns out, the boy may have been on to something all along (don’t ever tell him I admitted to that). We had five days of unplanned, unorganized, unscheduled relaxation. Don’t get me wrong, I did pass away some of our mid-day siesta googling beaches and restaurants, but we spent most of our time going whichever way the sweet, salty breeze blew us. And my uptight little self was pleasantly surprised.
See, look how happy this little guy is. Just hangin’ in the shade outside of this cute little bakery. Nice smells, a little attention from lazy vacationers with nowhere to be, and maybe a chance at a runaway croissant or two. Just look at that face. He’s doing something right.
We passed by this bakery on our walk around the town of La Jolla, just a few minutes drive from San Diego. The views here were totally worth the smells (lots of seals and their accompanying seafood buffet result in breezes off the cove that surpass the description of “fishy”. But like I said, totally worth it. These were some of the most beautiful vistas I’d ever found myself inside of- and I lived in Greece for two years. Around every corner was a more beautiful postcard view.
The beaches here weren’t really for swimming (unless you’re a seal, in that case you’ll feel right at home!) so we spent the morning walking and gawking around. With those kind of smells in the air, we thought it appropriate to at least search out some good seafood. We spent a lot of time googling the best local spot for fishy-fare, but by the time Allyson started getting seriously hangry, we decided to trek back to this cute little restaurant we’d passed by earlier in the day.
This was the best decision ever. Google doesn’t always have the answer to everything, you know? Some things are best stumbled upon. We sat outside and ate ceviche and watched the sun tinkling on the ocean below us. So perfect. It’s called Cody’s, by the way, and I’d definitely recommend it if your into adorable local spots with great food and even better views.
A lot of the scenery in California reminded us of Greece, actually. Lots of pretty, blue water backdropped with rocky, mountain views. The climate is really similar as well, and the reprieve from NC’s humid, mosquito speckled air was definitely welcomed by both of us. If my little Greek stowaway couldn’t make it to the homeland this year, he at least felt a little bit at home where we ended up…
Except for the waves. The waves were no joke. The Mediterranean sea is like a swimming pool (an amazing, breathtakingly beautiful swimming pool). So even though I’d grown up learning how to avoid being swallowed and spit out by an ocean wave, my East coast skills were no match for the waves we saw in Cali. K was definitely not a fan. We stuck to the bay for our swims.
And we left the waves to the seals…
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