Coronado, here we come: We head over to Coronado Island on the ferry. Our walk along the waterfront is uncomfortably hot, as the weather is soaring close to 90 F, and none of us brought warm weather gear. We end up buying some shlocky T-shirts and change out of our heavy shirts. Once on Coronado, I am forced to shell out big bucks for a really stupid sun hat. Who would have thought? I was so busy planning for cold, nasty weather in Arkansas and New York, that it never occurred to me that there would be an unseasonable heat wave in San Diego!
As we pick out our T-shirts, a schooner fires a cannon and I jump. It is embarrassing that I am still so twitchy after all these months. Explosions and sirens still generate an almost visceral response in me.Coronado Island on a Sunday is very quiet. Other than the few tourists milling around the shops close to the ferry terminal, the town seems deserted. Tiny wooden bungalows with price tags close to half a million dollars are mixed in with large Spanish style villas and the few odd-ball Cape Cod and old Victorian homes. We walk the loop toward the famous hotel on the other side of the island, once the favored haunt of 1930s movie stars and millionaires. The building, a massive wood structure that looks like one gigantic maintenance nightmare, harkens back to an earlier day. I can imagine flappers flitting through the gardens.
A Penny for your thoughts? Penny, Hotel La Pensione’s official greeting dog, makes sure that we get our daily dose of doggy love. She is so well known that people stop in just to pat her. Meanwhile, I miss my little sugar-doodle. I call Gill every day, and sometimes Nadine is willing to meow plaintively at me, but it isn’t the same as a good in-person squeeze. I know that Gill takes very good care of her, but he won’t comb her every day or examine her lumps. I guess that is the mom’s job…
Restaurant row: Little Italy has so many dining options that we don’t have to wander far. We try a wine bar that offers short pours at a discount, and are able to several different wines with our impressive cheese board and vegetable plate. The waiters are all young, cute, and really Italian. We finish with a flourless chocolate torte that is absolutely sinful, then waddle back to our hotel. The fog is rolling in and the street lights are softened and blurred in the moist air. The temperature differential between midday and evening is astonishing.
Heading north: Today I head north, working my way towards Monrovia, where the STC San Gabriel chapter meets. It will be a day of trains, Metrolink connections, and rides. We’ll see how this goes!
What, no pictures? Once again, blogger is being obnoxious and not uploading pictures. I’ll try again later.