San Diego Dawn
Pale rosy-pink. Then it went to gray. Then soft blue clouds appeared in the deep sky. It changes minute by minute, almost moment by moment, and I’m fortunate enough to have a front row seat.
We are in the home of Cinda’s cousin and cousin’s husband. It was a welcome stop after lots of driving that included one wrong turn, several stretch breaks, a cheap and lousy lunch, and serious harassment from my new GPS system which I have unceremoniously named “Her Majesty.”
Her Majesty, although loaded with the Cousin’s San Diego address, was most insistent that we head south somewhere around El Centro. Common sense overrode her demand, but her chronic nagging forced me to turn her off.
As we approached San Diego, Cinda programmed the beast once again, and, possibly because she’d been banned and shut down after her last outburst, she guided us quite perfectly to Cousin’s. She barely winced when I overshot the house by a quarter block in order to make a u-turn and park in front of the house.
Has she learned her lesson? Will she get us across the border into and out of Tijuana? Stay tuned. Thankfully, we are armed with step by step instructions from someone who has crossed numerous times. I believe Her Majesty shall remain in the “off” mode.
But back to dawn. I am delighted to see that it is clear overhead while the clouds hug the eastern mountain range. I think we’ll make it onto the Mexican tollway without the downpour that greeted us at the San Diego city limits yesterday.
Yes, pleasant sunny drive until we hit the mountains, where the temperature dropped 20 degrees and the low hanging clouds spit on us occasionally. The spitting stopped, but I swear the rain began just as we hit the city limits. During rush hour. With a passive-aggressive GPS at the helm. So today I’d like some clear sky, thanks.
When we got here last night, we we greeted with glasses of lovely wine. We chatted and watched the ever-changing sky, through the patio doors, out over the San Diego Bay. We are set high on a hill, and although there are some obstructions (damn those others who choose to build out here!), I can see water less than a mile away.
Wine, a dinner of lamb that fell apart when touched by fork, and a pile of fresh green beans. It was a Moroccan dish called lamb tagine, and it was served in a ceramic bowl with a tall, tall top called tagine. A French pie, clafouti, topped with fresh berries. All home-made. Fun conversation. The stark realization that I had left my coffee-making equipment at home! The loan of a French press.
So here I am at dawn. Hesitant to leave this lovely place, anxious to get down the road.
And down the road we shall get, right after a little walk, because a friend in La Misión, just north of Ensenada, will be waiting for us mid morning.
San Diego Dawn