"Is that all there is? Is that all there is, my friends? Let's break out the booze and have a ball...if that's all...there is..."
Originally done by Peggy Lee, but I'm thinking of the Sandra Bernhardt version...if I could have a soundtrack to this blog entry, it would be this song!!
Originally titled:
I *HATE* SAN DIEGO...
...because San Diego hates me.
Seriously. I never thought one could have a city as one's mortal enemy. But Steve and I calculated it in the airport bar while waiting -- eagerly, desperately -- to go back to San Francisco, and this weekend was 83% disaster and 17% fun.
Let me give you the list. For those of you who can't stomach the extent of this list, skip to the "good things" in bold, and to the blue section, which talks about the marathon. For those of you who are into gawking at crime scenes, disaster movies, and books like the Odyssey, read on...
It all started after our (perfectly fine, full) flight to San Diego. Steve and I had found a sweet deal on a rental convertible through Advantage Rent A Car. We booked everything through expedia -- our flight, hotel, and car. I will never again use Expedia for the latter two, and I suggest you never do either -- their "reservations"
don't count for anything. I also need to point out straight out the gates that I am not prone to these kinds of ultimatums, but such was the nature of this weekend.
As I was saying, we were at the SD airport, waiting patiently in the "courtesy vehicle" area for our shuttle to Advantage (who, by the way, I will also never use again). 45 minutes later we are conversing with a couple and another woman who had been waiting for an hour and half. It is 12:15am. The woman has been on the phone with them and they're supposed to have closed at 12am, so they're getting snippy. They say they've sent a shuttle by 4 times. Finally we see it go by -- in the
wrong lane, which happens to be 3 behind us, so that we never saw it. (
problem number 1. To Advantage -- TRAIN YOUR DRIVERS.) They also inform this lady on the phone that they are now (
problem number 2) out of cars. Yes, we all made so-called "reservations" through expedia. We all have the print-out in our hands to prove it. Doesn't mean squat. At long last the courtesy vehicle pulls up in the proper lane and their peon gets out and gives up hand-typed letters from their manager that says they will reimburse us (
problem number 3 -- they didn't even cover the cost up front. I consider this to be a to be continued, because lord knows if I will ever see that reimbursement from corporate headquarters) for the cost of renting from another company. They are ready to simply pull away. We insist that they can TAKE US to the car company of our choice, we are NOT waiting for still another shuttle.
They take us to Hertz -- we'd talked to the other drivers who endlessly pulled up while we waited for Advantage, and knew Hertz had cars. We walk in and two customer service people are helping two customers. The lady leaves, saying she'd rather just have her friend pick her up, she's too poor to pay double and wait for reimbursement. So there's the four of us, two couples, in line.
The customer service people finish up...and disappear into the back (
problem number four). We four stand there in awe, because we are being completely ignored. Pins drop, crickets chirp. Finally their janitor who cleans their cars walk in, and hesitantly yells, "Uh, CUSTOMERS?" A woman blithely walks out ("oh hi,") to help the other couple. It is 12:45am by now. Steve and I immediately tell them that we're in the same situation, we want help too. The woman has Bob -- the selfsame janitor who hollered about us -- check us in. (
Problem number five.) Bob does not know the prices and cannot advise us. He's very nice and simply rattles off everything they have available -- no convertibles left -- a jaguar, SUVs, minivans, that mustang outside but it needs to be cleaned, etc. We're aware that we're going to have to pay an arm and a leg for the jag or the unclean mustang, so we give up on a "fun" car and simply say, "what's your lowest cost car?" He wanders off to consult and finds a ford taurus for slightly less than the rate expedia quoted. We take it. By the morning light we see that this car is not clean either (
problem number 6).
I will interject and say that Hertz, despite this rocky start, was actually one thing we counted as "good" on our trip. They were open 24 hours. When they finally dealt with us, they pulled out all the stops (and the janitors) to get us where we needed to be. They got us a good deal. And we showed up 30 minutes late when we returned it (more on that later) but they didn't charge us extra. So I will say, Hertz, as an overall experience and especially by comparison to advantage, was
good thing #2. (
good thing #1 being the flight in, to be fair.) And I would highly recommend Hertz, even though their online rates are usually a little higher, because obviously they can handle their business.
We find the hotel. We check in. We'd reserved a "deluxe room with a king sized bed" online. We get to our first floor room, it's a tiny room (one entire wall is mirrors, which not only tells you how hard they're trying to make it look bigger, but also alludes to the quality of occupants who usually get this room and the probable hourly duration of their stay) with two double beds with windows near the entrance to the bar/restaurant next door (
problem number 7). It's 1:15am. I go back out and say, we reserved the deluxe room. The man says, "those online reservations only guarantee you a room, we get to pick what kind."
In the space of 2 hours, we had 7 things go wrong. I won't count Hertz as a good thing because we couldn't be sure then. But now you can see, I'm serious people -- ixnay on the expedia-ay. Just call the hotels and rental places yourself. Put a credit card and a deposit down. This middle-man stuff is a nightmare.
The next day started off well. I'd found a place to have brunch through an online guide and it was delicious -- enormous portions, inventive food, good service. We had such a great time we almost wanted to come back the next day and eat there again. So let me say,
good thing #3 and MVP for the weekend: Hash House A Go Go. Awesome.
Then we went to the zoo. My triple A membership got us reduced tickets including rides on the sky tram.
good item #4. We think we're getting our momentum back...
...as most of you know, I couldn't wait to see the hippo exhibit; I'd heard wonderous things about it. It's a display in which you can see the hippos underwater.
There was one hippo. He was perched on a rock in such a way that he could lift his head to breathe above water without having to move any other part of his body. And he didn't. Not for the whole half hour we sat there. Breathe, sit. Breathe, sit. He was a beauty and he seemed content, but it was absolutely boring (
problem number 8) and made all my friends impatient to move on.
The rest of the zoo was nice -- no better nor worse than any other. It was a neutral experience -- we saw some great theatrics from the lemurs, but couldn't see the tiger at all. I saw my first pygmy hippo -- a smaller, rarer version than the others -- but he also napped contentedly and could easily have been a statue. The gorillas were playful, the pandas hid or slept. The leopard was gorgeous and got close to us but had had one paw amputated from a problem at another zoo, and thus was mildly depressing. The sky tram was pretty cool, but the zoo map was worthless. So on and so forth. Overall, the animals seemed content, so I would say the zoo was a good experience. But not the awesome one I'd heard about.
Our feet were tired so we all decided to head back to the hotel for a break before dinner. As it turns out, their pool is shallow and small (
problem number 9) and their hot tub is too vigorous -- you can't lean back and relax because you get smacked in the face with water (
problem number 10).
We head to an italian restaurant in the gaslamp district so that the two runners in the marathon tomorrow can load up on carbs. This was one of the biggest disasters of the trip. There was absolutely no parking (
problem 11). When we finally parked in a garage blocks away and go to the restaurant, the service was slow (
problem 12) because our waiter, who turned out to be the manager, was severely distracted. He kept running off, running past us, running back. The coup was that they
ran out of bread (
problem 13) -- or said they did -- because they then promptly served the people who came in behind us the "last three pieces" -- after lying to us about it first (
problem 14) -- and then offering absolutely no compensation for it -- no dollar off, no free appetizer, no free dessert -- nothing. They didn't even come and talk to us about it -- one of us had to seek someone out and ask why the heck the table that came in after us got bread. The bottle of Chianti Steve and I ordered cost $38 and tasted like wet sock (
problem 15). When they finally brought the food -- an hour and a half later -- the portions were small (
problem 16).
What italian restaurant do you know of that serves small portions? Especially on the eve of a marathon?? Most of the people at our table did not leave a tip -- had our waiter not been the manager, we still would have. But obviously he was incompetent, so we "ran out" of tip. I have never before seen or done this in my life.
We split up; 5 of us went to Ghirardelli for ice cream, because we were still hungry after our "dinner." I ordered a chocolate dipped waffle cone with a single scoop of rocky road.
They were out of chocolate dipped waffle cones. (
Problem 17). I kid you not. I begged to go back to the hotel.
This was when Steve and I started to notice that our room was unusually hot and humid (
problem 18). We'd had the fan on during the cool, overcast day, and yet our room was muggy. We did not try to have this solved. We knew by then that we were cursed.
Let me take a quick moment to add that while some of this stuff occurred for other people, it was mostly Steve and I who got the brunt. Leslie and James' flight was late, but they still got a great room (which she declined to tell us about so as not to enrage us, but I heard her say here and there that it overlooked the pool and had a fridge. I believe she did get her 'deluxe' room, though they tried to give her a smoking room at first). Laura and Julia, the two runners, were in a different hotel across the street that their marathon training team had reserved, and it was many more stars higher than ours -- central courtyard with a -- gasp -- big deep pool and a non-aggressive hot tub, polynesian theme, massages by the pool, huge bathrooms, etc. etc.
The next morning the 26.5 mile Rock 'N Roll marathon started at 6:30am. We agreed to line up to cheer on Laura and Julia at mile 12 at around 8:30am, which meant we'd be leaving our hotel at 7:45 am, and then taking the "trolley" to the finish line to wait for them there. I set the alarm for 7am. Woke up on time, showered, packed up to check out of our rooms, left the car in the parking lot. Looked at my phone -- it said 6:45am. What??
Our clock had been set an hour ahead (
problem 19). It might have been when I set the alarm, it might have just been San Diego doing its thing. We'd actually gotten up at 6am. We had an hour to kill.
So we went to the Tickled Trout, the restaurant whose patrons kept us up at odd hours as they walked by. They opened, fortunately, at 6:30am, their service was reasonably priced, and the food was decent.
Good thing number 5. But I will say, there was a
problem (#20) -- the coffee was "just water dressed in brown," as Ani says. I stomached one cup and gave up.
Things are not looking good for the marathon and the public transportation ahead, but as it turns out, these are fine. We find mile 12, we spot Julia and then Laura, we cheer. We are able to get on the on-time trolley in one piece. The day is overcast and cool, perfect for running. We arrive at the finish line area, and find we have a half mile walk or a shuttle to take. Inspired by the running going on, we opt for the walk.
We hit
problem #21 at the military base where they were housing the finish. Military base?? We have to go through a security checkpoint, meaning being wanded and bag-searched and all the indignities usually reserved for the airport. This is unexpected and annoying. Or rather, setbacks are expected, at this point, 21 problems into our list, but San Diego is getting more inventive.
We stand around for an hour and a half watching the runners go by. It's fine, we expected it. We stake out the last corner before the home stretch -- at about mile 25.8, and Leslie and I cheer our hearts out -- the position was particularly fun because we could yell "LAST TURN!! YOU'RE DOWN TO YARDS, GUYS!! HOME STRETCH!! YOU CAN SEE THE FINISH FROM HERE!! GOOD WORK!! DIG DEEP!!" -- and watch people's smiles of relief (those people, anyway, who could muster any further muscle work beyond 200 more yards of running). Julia ran by and finished at 4hours 50 minutes. Laura beat her last marathon time and came in at 5 hours 32 minutes, I believe.
At this moment I will make a digression to reward those of you who have read through my ranting this far.
Watching a marathon is an unexpectedly beautiful and inspiring thing. 20,000 human beings challenged themselves to run 26 and a half miles -- through pain, mental exhaust, chafing, dehydration, loss of salt and nutrients, uphills, downhills -- and through, cheering, bands playing, cheerleaders, clapping, whistling, and people running alongside them to support them. (Leslie's boyfriend, James, and Laura planned ahead and he actually dropped in to the race with her at mile 19 to refresh her energy and pace and support her for the last 7 miles. He dropped out at 26 and let her finish the .5 on her own. We saw numerous people doing similar.) It choked me up when I first saw it and it chokes me up to write about it -- the first thing that hit me was the hopefulness of it, the sheer belief and willingness of it all. The second thing that hit me was the love -- the way it inspired the spectators and the runners, both of whom laughed, ran, cheered, smiled and half-way bounced when there was mutual observation of each other. Even though it was individual after individual running, it was an absolute mecca of community and teamwork. It was...beautiful, to say the least. And it was
good thing # 6.
It did, however lead to
problems number 22 and 23 -- sunburn (despite the overcast clouds and the sunblock I put on before I left the hotel, I
still got burned) and severely sore feet from standing and walking around all day.
When we left Laura and Julia to collect all their freebies and catch their direct shuttle to their hotel, once again, public transportation held up its end of the bargain. We went back to mile 12 where we'd parked the car -- where people were still running, so moving -- stopped into the mall to replenish our nutrition, and then met up at Laura and Julia's hotel, since we'd checked out of ours. It was about 2:30pm, and we had to return the car at 5pm, so we took some much needed to time to chill out, reflect, and relax.
Finally, at 4:30, we headed out to retrieve and return the car. We'd given our map to Leslie to navigate for that day, but I had looked at it before she left to confirm our route back.
Problem # 24 -- detours. And
problem #25 -- we got pretty darn lost and started running late. We tried calling Hertz's help line, but despite being an 800 number and despite Hertz humming with people when we got there, the help line was "closed" (
problem #26). Steve and I were at each others' throats trying to wind our way back to Hertz. We asked directions but still couldn't find it. Finally we followed the signs to the airport and at last spotted the road with Hertz on it -- which we'd been on 20 minutes earlier but left due to confusing signs and bickering.
You'll notice I don't count Steve and I snarling at each other as a problem. No way. It was in direct reaction to the absolute ridiculousness of the situation. And we were divided, but not conquered. This was San Diego trying to destroy us, but we survived.
Only four more problems to go, people. Can you guess?
Problem #27. After all that, our flight was delayed an hour and 40 minutes, which meant a 2 1/4 hour wait. (incidentally, Leslie's flight was delayed too.)
Problem#28. We made up and gave up and decided to drink. A beer and a glass of wine cost us an exorbitant $15. At this point the spiritual burden of carrying around this many problems was too much to bear, so we decided to compile this list.
Is that all there is? Is that all there is, my friiiiieeeeeennnnnnnnddddddsssss... Problem #29. When we finally boarded, Steve's seat pocket in front of him was broken, and banged against his knees.
Problem #30. There was an emphatic port-a-potty smell for the first half hour on the plane. We either got used to it or it dissipated. My guess is it dissipated at roughly the same time as we flew out of the boundaries of San Diego.
As Steve and I walked toward the bart stop at SFO, we were nearly solemn with relief. We held hands and never looked behind us. But we did mention that we weren't positive that the curse might not have followed us to SF. There was discussion of an observation period and burning of sage if necessary.
We caught the bart, caught the muni, caught a cab, and got home. The house was intact and smelled good. We collapsed.
This morning I got myself a large mocha and set it on my desk when I first arrived at work...
...and it promptly fell over, spilled 4/5ths of its contents all over my desk, some in my keyboard and under my computer. I spent the first 45 minutes of work mopping, sopping, sponging, drying, sponging again, and drying anew.
When I get home, I'm breaking out the sage.
