Day 145 - We Finally Found The Pacific

Author - Grant

From - Tucson, Arizona

To - San Diego, California

Via - Yuma (Sort Of)

Miles Driven - 409 (that’s four hundred and nine)

Today's Photos - http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157616016517773/

What can I say about a 400+ mile car journey across the desert that took us from dawn in Arizona to dusk in California to make it sound more interesting than it actually was?  

Well I could talk at length about the road block that we had to go through which was some physical evidence of the ongoing efforts to curb the amount of drugs that enter America from Mexico which was never more than a decent sombrero throw to our left all day...but the reality is that we

were waved through before we had even come to a complete halt thus robbing us of the opportunity for a decent story.

Maybe I could gab on about the landscape...but I haven’t got the literary skills to make 150 miles of cacti, 200 miles of desert, 50 miles of rocky hills and 9 miles of San Diego suburbs sound anything other than spectacularly dull.

I could spout some meaningful prose about how the sight of the Pacific Ocean signified the achievement of having finally made it to the West Coast of America after 16,700 miles of driving...but the truth is that no one asked us to take the long route and we could, theoretically, have driven it directly from New York in 42 hours without breaking a single speed limit.

Still, reaching San Diego does represent quite a milestone in our trip as we’re the farthest we’ll get from New York whilst staying in mainland USA (i.e. excluding Alaska or Hawaii) and, as 

, psychologically it feels like everything after this represents the ‘back nine’, to use a golf analogy.  San Diego also represents a change in focus as everywhere we’ll see in the next month, as we travel up the West Coast, are serious contenders for where we may next lay down our hats for a while (again, metaphorically).  San Diego is an especially good contender because it boasts the best weather in America with very little rain, almost constant sunshine and temperature hovering around 70 degrees...but it was cold and raining when we arrived and, rightly or wrongly, we’re both very driven by first impressions.

One thing we have firmly decided is that, if we did live here, it probably wouldn’t be in room 212 of the local Motel 6.  Despite being incredibly conveniently located for central San Diego (just 1 mile away) and even closer to Little Italy (just 56 lengths of spaghetti away), it sits right under the flight path for the landing planes at the surprisingly busy San Diego International Airport.  And when I say “right under”, I mean that every 90 seconds there is a roar resembling a nuclear explosion, the sky is blocked out by the underbelly of a jet plane and with a little squinting it’s possible to see which passengers had beef and which had chicken based on the crumbs on their chins.  It’s actually quite an impressive sight but Molly is less than amused and her shaking legs could froth milk faster than the average Starbucks barista.  And if the planes don’t get ya, then the trains and trams which pass within 10 feet of our room’s window for 16 hours a day will!

Still, it costs a scandalously low $54 a night and it’s only temporary as we move into something nicer later in the week.  Hopefully it’s a case of “what doesn’t kill her will make her stronger” but I’ll be more comfortable saying that when we have moved hotels and she has actually survived the ordeal.  She doesn’t know it but life is about to get a whole heap better for her as her vet-recommended incarceration ends and the new place is next to the only beach in San Diego that allows dogs off the leash...kind of like a K9 Hedonism I guess.  It may also be a human hedonism as, when the guy gave us a room to look at, it was already occupied by an old fella laying on the bed with what looked very much like a very young Eastern European lady wearing rollerblades accompanying him.  Each to his/her own I guess but I can’t understand the turn-on is with the rollerblades - I’m far more conventional and favour the traditional hot wax and nipple clamps.

So over the next week and a bit we’ll be exploring everything this fantastic city has to offer with half one eye on having fun and the other on possibly moving here.  I’ll spare you the details so expect sporadic updates for a while.  I’ll miss you all though...like a dose of the clap.

Over & Out,

The MacNaughtons