Stay Classy, San Diego

Other than what I learnt from watching Anchorman, there was only one thing I knew for fact about San Diego. It was close to Mexico. But even with that being the extent of my knowledge, it didn’t take long for me to decide that San Diego was up there with Chicago and New York as my top most liveable cities in America.

It was a long trip from Philadelphia and not since my arrival in Canada last Octover have I been welcomed at the airport with open arms. Granted, the open arms belonged to my friend and host Mackenzie’s brother, Jackson who I had never met but it was nice to feel so warmly received, after so many cold arrivals at unfamiliar train and bus stations around the country. Within seconds of meeting Mackenzie’s siblings and parents, I felt like I had known them my whole life. They were more excited for me to be there than I was myself.

Being within 15 miles of the Mexican border, the influences on San Diego’s architecture, food and culture is obvious. The houses are scaling cement fixtures of terracotta orange, stark white with red tiling and arch windows cut straight out of the walls. Cacti grow in the place of roses and garden beds are a rich palette of yellow grasses and frosty green succulents. The small patio of my San Diego abode (Mackenzie’s mum’s house) is a messy forest of grass and growth which feels like it should be overlooking a turquoise bay somewhere in Cabo.  

When it comes to beaches, San Diego doesn’t disappoint either. A 10 minute drive across the bridge and you’re at Coronado Island, the Newport of San Diego. Anyone familiar with The O.C. would find an instant appreciation of Coronado – a small coastal community where the mothers are as youthful as their daughters and the surf rats play for the water polo team. But the beaches are beautiful and the view back at downtown San Diego is undeniable. Being a community unto itself, ‘The Village’ of Coronado boasts an array of boutique and independent shopping – The Bay Bookstore, The Attic Boutique and Boney’s Market. A purchase from each will give you a new book, a new bag and a sandwich to take with you for a few hours baking on Coronado beach.

The sun-kissed look made famous by Californians is best showed off at night. The night life is found at the Gaslight Quarter, a stretch of clubs in downtown San Diego which oozes everything from bronzed blondes to bikies. The Tipsy Crow, a three-tiered institution has a deceivingly classy cocktail bar and a deliciously debaucherous basement hiding beneath it, where the green laser show and Rhiannon music says it all. Once you’ve had your fill of five dollar shots and cheap G&Ts, it’s on to The Field. The meter-high stage, tucked into the far corner of this Irish pub make the dark wooden booths slightly superfluous. The Irish punk band of a Friday night will have everybody on their feet and if you’re lucky, you’ll stumble across a bachelor party just to seal the dancing deal.

A little too much fun at The Field meant we lost a day of San Diego appreciation to wallowing on the couch but we bounced back today by spending the morning at the Balboa Parklands, San Diego’s version of the Smithsonian Institute. A morning of wandering around the botanical gardens and National Cottages in the sun quickly took its toll, so we went searching for retail therapy in Hillcrest. There’s nothing like successful thrifting in San Diego’s gay suburb to top off another perfect day in the ‘whales vagina’.

Ciao for now. xo

You, Me and Vitamin D

I returned 'home' to Cranbrook last week to spend a few days with the lovely Steph Murray.

There's something about Cranbrook. There's not much too it but it has the small-town goodness that you don't find in big cities. It reminds me alot of Gympie which is a comforting thing when you're on the other side of the world. Returning to C-Brook after being in Banff is like coming home from work and pulling on a pair of comfy old sweats. It just fits.

The sun was shining in B.C so I made the most of it by lying in the sun and getting my first sunburn of the summer - my back and my bum are now two different colours! Hurrah! There are no words to express how it feels to have the sun back in my life and be able to lie in it wearing minimal clothing. Instead of wearing thermals, jeans, a singlet, a t-shirt, a long-sleeved t-shirt, three sweaters, my snow jacket and a beanie and still be freezing my kahootz off.

Cranbrook's local professional junior ice-hockey team, the Kootenay Ice, were playing two home games while I was there so I was very willingly dragged along to watch with Steph and her ice-hockey enthusiast father. Both games were pretty important in the series, determining the Ice's lead up to the Memorial Cup so the whole town was packed into Cranbrook's stadium. Now that I've got the hang of watching ice hockey (penalties, power plays - I've got the jargon down pat), I don't know if I can ever go back to watching the cricket.  All the skating and the slamming and the violent throw-downs on the ice - it's just so damn addictive.

I did all the things typical of my trips to Cranbrook - went to Boston Pizza, drank a lot of ceasers, went to the movies, went shopping, played Steph's out-of-tune piano and painted my toenails. It was lovely to feel like I was back in the 'real' world, rather than the Banff bubble. It felt like I had crawled out of my winter hibernation like a bleary-eyed bear and was feeling those first welcome effects after a healthy dose of Vitamin D.

Ciao for now. xo