My lady and I had a fantastic weekend in San Diego wrapping up the first part of my west coast tour.

Friday. We wipe the crust from our eyes and head for the airport at four o'clock in the morning. We suck down coffees at a frozen yogurt stand (the only eatery opened in Concourse C). On the plane I spill the coffee all over myself and the seat. I fall asleep remaining in dreamless slumber until we land. My lady uses this time to read her book and reevaluate her decision in dating me. We check into our hotel the Manchester Grand Hyatt and simultaneously agree that the view from the room overlooking San Diego Bay is the tits. After filling our bellies with fish tacos, we embark on a walking excursion of the Gaslamp District and Seaport Village. We take a nap in the park then decide to soak in the hotel hot tub. We get cleaned up, eat a cheap dinner of Mexican food and watch the Cubs beat the Padres at Petco Park.

Saturday. We wake up early, eat breakfast sandwiches and gain entry to the San Diego Zoo. Forgoing the offer to take the bus tour (which I later referred to as "The Fatty Tour") we see everything the zoo has to offer in five hours. We wander through Balboa Park and hail a cab to take us back to the hotel where we soak in the hot tub. For dinner, we gorge ourselves on heaping portions of seafood and meander up and down the boardwalk as the cool ocean breeze rolls in off of the bay.

Sunday. We take the ferry to Coronado Island where we lay down on the first beach we see. We sleep, read and turn over. Four hours later, the ferry carts our sunburned asses back to the hotel like the N 2 Deep song. My lady leaves for home as I weep like a little girl with a skinned knee.

Labels: travels, wife