The Perfect Day
In the last three weeks, as many of you know, I have cruised around the country doing the Firm's Work. Since March 25, I've hit New York, Chicago, Detroit, Ann Arbor, Chicago again, a day back in DC, then San Diego, Denver, Las Vegas, a half day in DC, New York again, a weekend in DC and then New York again. In the next two weeks I will be Miami and Boston, plus a few more New Yorks. Also, a trip to DC federal court to try to get out of three months of grand jury duty to which I've been summoned (horrific timing). It's been fun, if a bit grueling. There is far too much to report in a typical travelogue. But I wanted to tell everyone about a day I spent last week in Southern California -- a day that turns out to have been The Perfect Day.
The Perfect Day started at the afore-mentioned La Valencia Hotel in La Jolla. There was no morning fog, no marine layer, the day dawned super sunny with a quiet breeze. All you could hear was the palm trees and bougainvillea rustling and the seagulls and in the distance, the surf. It was like waking up to find yourself floating on your back in a perfectly still pool of water. In this calm morning, time slowed down. The pre-breakfast morning hours stretched out long; there was enough time to sit on the balcony and look out at the ocean and look up at the sky and sit smiling placidly, doing absolutely zilch. I watched the sun come over the mountains from the east and hit the beach across the La Jolla cove -- the Del Mar beach.
Breakfast that morning was, not suprisingly, perfect. My traveling companion ("TC") and I sat at the window looking over the pool and the palm fronds at the sea. TC took my blackberry and cell phone away from me and hid them somwhere. We look at the sea again. We drank coffee. We smiled. Our happy waiter showed up in a chipper mood, very well turned out except that his name tag was on upside down. TC twisted his head around to try to read it, figured out it said "Alvaro" or something, and then boomed out, 'Hey Alvaro, you know your name tag is on upside down?!" Alvaro collapsed in embarassed giggles -- apparently he has a real problem putting his name tag on and frequently gets it on upside down. I guess that's pretty helpful for him cause he can read it, but it's not really so helpful for everyone else. Life in the fast lane.
I ended up ordering the Healthy Start breakfast, which is a huge plate of California fruit followed by an even huger plate of buttermilk pancakes covered in butter and syrup. TC and I noted to Alvaro that it is an aptly named breakfast because really it's only the start of it that is healthy. The buttermilk pancakers were . . . perfect. Time conveniently slowed down again, so that there was extra time to do nothing but eat the buttermilk pancakes and stare out at the ocean and watch the seagulls play in the sun and smile. It would be an exaggeration to say that we had an interesting breakfast conversation. We really just sat and smiled and ate pancakes.
Next stop after breakfast for me was to put my jeans and sandals on, stick my sunglasses on the top of my head, stride out on the main street of La Jolla Village and find a latte and my rental car -- the cream-colored Kia Amante. I hit the road with the sunroof open and went north to my favorite place in the world, Del Mar, California. Recall that I discovered Del Mar last May as part of my quest to find the Perfect Place. Quest has ended.
I drove down to the beach at Del Mar, past L'Auberge Del Mar (the Perfect Hotel) and past the Del Mar Surf Station (the perfect train station - a station hit frequently by ocean spray) and parked right next to the drop off point for the Del Mar Surf School. This is where mommies drive up in Volvo's and drop their blond, tan, kids off at surf lessons, just like soccer moms do for soccer practice here in the East. I walked out on the beach, took off my shoes and stuck my toes in the ocean, which was the perfect temperature. I watched the marine helicopters from Camp Pendleton fly past. I looked south down the coast to La Jolla and identified the pink tower of La Valencia sticking up. I looked up the coast to Solana Beach, an artist colony on a hill just north of Del Mar. I looked up at the Del Mar bluffs -- I looked over at the Del Mar racetrack. I began to sing to the Yellow Submarine to myself -- "Sky of blue! And sea of green, in our yellow, submarine!" The cream-colored Kia Amante inspired me. I spent about an hour on the beach getting salty, sandy and tousled. Then I kicked the sand off my feet and hopped back in the cream-colored Kia Amante and drove 4 minutes from the beach to the Del Mar Horse Park.
The Del Mar Horse Park is a world-class equestrian facility with five or six independent barns operating on a show facility that is sandwiched between the Del Mar Racetrack ("where the surf meets the turf") and the San Diego Polo Club. The Del Mar Horse Park for me was like being transported back in time to when I was 10 years old riding at a show facility in southern Africa -- the same weather, the same atmosphere, the same dust, the same trees (eucalyptus and fig trees and succulents and desert evergreens and bougainvillea everywhere), the same everything, only it was Del Mar, not Zambia. Even the fact that the show grounds are across the road from the polo fields is the same as Zambia. The polo fields (there are about four of them in a row) were bright green and covered in huge agricultural sprinklers, surrounded by rows of eucalyptus trees and scrub -- just like Zambia. The farrier was out shoeing the whole facility -- horses were lined up dozing in the sun waiting to be shod. One horse was drying off after a bath. Folks were riding in the rings -- there are about 10 outside rings at the horse park, plus the fancy show rings (one outdoor show jumping stadium, one indoor stadium with bleachers, a small dressage court and a large dressage court (both outside)) which are off limits except for show days. I watched a tiny kid learn to ride a tiny pony. I watched a pro try to lunge a super green horse who was flipping out and tearing around. I watched some Dressage Queens ride snootily by on their fancy dressage horses. I watched a 10 year old girl having a whale of a time jumping her horse fearlessly around a jumper course repeatedly. That kid was me 25 years ago..... I hung out with some horses who were turned out in a ring. They all came over and said hi and introduced themselves and welcomed me to the horse park. I must have spent two hours at the horse park. It was quiet except for the sounds of horses swishing their tails and exercising in the rings. All the while you could smell the beach and practically hear the surf still. I smelled like salt and beach and sand and horse....perfect.
Later that night my TC came back from whatever he was doing during the day and we went out to drinks and dinner with a friend of his who lives in La Jolla and who probably has a real job but who is really a surfer. Talking to this guy gave me the impression there is no beach on which he has not surfed. Because this was the perfect day, however, and we were in the perfect place, The Surfer turned out to know quite a lot about horses and said he and his friends have a huge party for the racetrack's opening day, sometime in July. I am invited; I am going.
TC and The Surfer and I walked around the Village of La Jolla and looked at the stars and the black palm fronds against the sky that was very dark blue, not quite black, and listened to the sea gulls and smelled the sea and listened to the surf. We ate huge helpings of Mexican food at Jose's restaurant -- we drank late night glasses of port in a warm cozy wood-beamed place overlooking the ocean. We watched the stars move across the La Jolla Cove. We stood facing the wind and burnished our faces with breezes coming across from somewhere in Asia. We looked over at the lights of Del Mar blinking on the bluffs above the Del Mar beach.It was the perfect end to a perfect day spent in the perfect place.
Now I just have to figure out how to make enough money to move to Del Mar. It is the perfect place because everything is right there. The beach, the cliffs, the racetrack, the polo fields, the horse park, the hotel, the Del Mar Surf Station with its scenic commuter train that hugs the Coast (it's called The Coaster), all are crammed in between I-5 and the ocean -- nothing is more than 5 minutes from anything else and the whole place is only about 15 minutes from San Diego. And everything you could possibly want in life is there. Beach, ocean cliffs, world-class horses, fabulous food, luxury hotel, Starbucks, an amazing view, beautiful homes, fabulous foliage, pine-covered hills, tan healthy people, etc. There is nothing garish or tacky in Del Mar. It is as if someone took the best of Mallorca, Portugal, Zambia and America and put them all in one tiny town on the edge of the continent and called it Del Mar.
posted by Anonymous @ 7:38 PM
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