One of the best things about San Diego, from a tourist point of view, is that almost every intersection has a left turn arrow. I have a problem with left turns. I don’t like them. And many of you who have ridden with me will attest that I will gladly make three right turns and drive us miles out of our way to avoid a left turn. This, coupled with my refusal to get on the freeway, which requires side roads for all venturing, means that we don’t move around in a real efficient fashion. (Those of you who often say it would be “fun” to travel with me might be re-thinking things about now.)
Today we started out at the car museum in Balboa Park and the only thing you really need to know about that museum is that they have Louis Mattar’s Fabulous 1947 Cadillac. Louis, bored in 1952, retrofitted his Cadillac with a sink, refrigerator, stove, telephone and 250 gallon gas tank. The in-car gas tank could be refilled while driving from the large gas reservoir that he towed behind the Caddy. I do not know where his wife was while he was doing this, but I wonder.
He had a toilet that doubled as a washing machine (I feel compelled to add a hygiene alert here.) The clothing, fresh from the washing machine/toilet, was apparently ironed en route as the backseat is neatly bisected by an entire ironing board.
Louis and two of his closest (hopefully) friends drove nonstop from San Diego to NY and back – 6700 miles – in this – accompanied by a large hookah pipe standing three feet tall, planted right between the front seats. How they did not get pulled over – especially with a shower that was placed outside the car, on the running board – defies my comprehension as a speeding ticket/driving attorney.
From the car museum, we moved further out into Balboa Park. As a child in San Diego, I almost never came to the park and I really missed out. It’s just gorgeous, filled with museums, restaurants, reflecting ponds and the zoo. Here’s the Museum of Man, unfortunately still closed, so we did’t get inside:
And here’s a view from one of the reflecting ponds towards more of the museums. The architecture is beautiful in here:
We also made a day trip to La Jolla, a beachy town about 8 miles north of San Diego proper. One of the things I wanted to see up there was The Map and Atlas Museum of La Jolla. To add to the general stress level, we took along a couple of local friends, and so, as we headed north to La Jolla (took the freeway and everything!) I had to field the typical questions about “why” we were going to the museum. Once we had located the museum and discovered that it was just a storefront in an office building, I had to field repetitive and insulting further questions about “why” we were going to the museum which, as always, leaves me doubting my skill in both planning travel and choosing travel partners.
The vindication was bliss. The Map and Atlas Museum is owned by Mike Stone, who is super rich, much like Louis Mattar. But instead of converting a Cadillac to a highly-combustible rolling bachelor pad, Mike Stone took his money and started buying old maps. He has maps from the 15th and 16th centuries, including this one that shows California as an island.
But the coolest thing there was an astronomical calendar from c1455, which was from a monastery in Verona, Italy. It remained in the monastery through the 17th century plague and the destruction of the 18th century Napoleonic Wars (note: don’t know what these were), and then somehow spent 150 years in someone’s basement in Verona. The family then sold the calendar to Mike for the “low six figures” – rude to ask, I know, but we were so curious. (We then spent some time trying to intuit Mike’s net worth, based on the purchase price on this one item.) Here it is below. It’s animal skin, attached to a piece of oak.
From the museum, the group ventured down to the beach area:
We were on the lookout for the seals and sea lions and had the luck to see numerous mothers and their new babies:
We also got to see a mother seagull and her baby, which you can hopefully see, poking its head out of the ice plant in the bottom left.
Our final stop was the Mt. Soledad Veteran’s Memorial, also of dubious interest to my travel partners. Started in 1952 as a public memorial, it was the subject of a lawsuit for having a cross on-site, and so is now privately maintained. You can see some of the plaques below. Since they’re privately funded, they vary enormously, with fun and heartbreaking details and credos. I saw one from a man who fought in WWI, WWII and the Korean War.
I’ll leave you with this, from Balboa Park. Ron read the entire sign – a rarity for him – and he was sad to be arriving 85 years too late to cough up his 75 cents for some “unlimited viewing”. Between Ron, Mike’s maps, and Louis’ Cadillac, it is sometimes hard for me to understand men.
Travels with Valerie 