Day 9 – to San Diego

On our way out of town this morning, we detoured to the Las Vegas Strip to drive up and down with the Teardrop, just so we can say we did it. Dad was able to jump out at a red light to snap a couple of pics. Traffic was light at 9 a.m. on the Fourth of July holiday, so it wasn’t too difficult or stressful.

Abby applied her mad graphic design skills to erase some unsightly billboards that were looming above the iconic Las Vegas sign. Props to Abby! Thank you!

There’s really not much besides dirt and scrubby brush between Las Vegas and San Bernadino. We sped across the Mohave Desert and arrived in San Diego by late afternoon. 

 

For a few days, the Teardrop will be securely parked at an Extra Space Storage facility just off the I-5 freeway. I’m glad I made those arrangements, because our hotel, The Pearl, takes up a busy streetcorner in Point Loma, and there are only about seven parking spaces squeezed up against the building. When we checked in, I was a little miffed when the front desk clerk told me that the spots were all spoken for. 

 

“You should be able to find a spot on the next block,” he said, with a half-assed wave in that general direction.  

 

I circled the neighborhood for twenty minutes before I found a spot a block and a half away. If we still had the Teardrop attached? … There’s probably no way we would have been able to find a parking spot anywhere within a 15-mile radius. 

"Bye, Teardrop! You will be safe here at Extra Space."

In the evening, Dad and I took an Uber to the San Diego waterfront for the USS Midway Museum July 4^thFireworks Viewing Party. We were interested to learn that our Uber driver, Alyssa, also works as a referee for women’s college basketball – Division 2. 

 

I bought tickets to the Midway Museum’s July 4^th party weeks ago, and I also reserved a couple of lawn chairs and purchased meal tickets. Once we got to the museum, Dad and I checked in, grabbed our boxed dinners, got drinks at the bar and set up our lawn chairs on the flight deck for front-row seats to the Port of San Diego’s fireworks display, called the Big Bay Boom. While we waited for the fireworks to begin, we enjoyed people-watching and live music from two great bands – one of which featured at least 13 performers on stage, and no-fewer than seven back-up singers, all gussied up in their star-spangled outfits. 

 

When the fireworks ended, we got ourselves off the Midway as quickly as possible, hoping to beat the crowds so we could hail an Uber back to the hotel. But as soon as we got down to the street level, we found the Embarcadero crammed with 500,000 other people all trying to make their way out of downtown. Even if there was an available Uber driver somewhere in San Diego County, there was no way they were going to get to us, because the streets were gridlocked. 

 

There’s a tram that runs through downtown San Diego, and the cars were packed with Independence Day revelers. At some point we decided to get on, even though it doesn’t go anywhere near Point Loma. Google mapped out a wide inverted “V” shaped route that involved taking the Green Line three stops in the wrong direction, to the northwest, then getting on a bus and taking it southwest to Point Loma. So we got off at the Old Town Transit Center, walked around in circles until we found the #28 bus stop, and then sat there for half and hour before we realized that the next #28 bus for Point Loma is due at 5:44 in the morning. There is no more service tonight. Maybe because it’s a holiday, or maybe because the #28 bus only runs until 9 p.m. Wtf?!

Yes, I get it. Part of the problem is that the San Diego airport is right in between the Midway Museum and Point Loma. 

I interrupt myself here to bemoan the Southern California car culture and the lack of reliable and efficient public transportation in these parts. In March we were able to locomote ourselves all over Tokyo and Kyoto – heck, all over Japan – with nothing more than an Suica card on our phones. Here in San Diego, we can’t even find a way to get three miles down the road without calling a car.

 

So, as we sat at the bus stop waiting for a bus that wasn’t going to come for another 8 hours, we called an Uber. The Uber app said that a driver would come in 25 minutes. Twenty minutes later, the app said that the driver would arrive in … 25 minutes. Dad called a taxi, but the taxi never came, either. Finally, I called a Lyft, and the driver showed up 3 minutes later. 

 

Finally back at the hotel. So … signing off for tonight. Good night!