Morning repast at La Jolla's little gem called Coffee Cup. Aptly named. Strong, toasty coffee, sweet corn tamales with tomatillo sauce, eggs over medium, fresh avocado. The morning paper. Charmingly unaffected servers. The fog burned off as we sat at a sidewalk table, the morning sun gradually warming my back. A cute, scrubby pup under the table to our right whined patiently for a scrap of tortilla. The crazy orange "umbrella" contraptions at the boutique burger joint to our left got a thorough, noisy cleaning.
La Valencia Hotel, back in the pink as the fog dissipates.
A visit to the hilarious, occasionally barking seals and poop-factory pelicans at La Jolla Cove. Miraculous critters, both.
Feet in the Pacific: done (and will most certainly be accomplished several more times).
Back to the Estancia La Jolla with its lush landscaping, Spanish tile roofs, attentive valet boys, poolside refreshments, salt water, shrieking Italian children wearing upside-down goggles.
Prickly pear mojito, contraband lunch snacks, yellow and white cabana stripey towels, earbuds bringing me Eddie Vedder's Ukulele Songs. "Longing to Belong" may or may not have been on repeat for awhile. "and though the moon is rising, can't put your picture down, love can be frightening when you fall..."
Dinner tonight is with one of mom's college friends. She's sweetly made a reservation at a place just down the coast in Del Mar. I have a good feeling about dining anywhere that translates to "of the ocean."
