Golf Perfect

Day of golf following on my 4-4-4 plan: 4th day of the month; an average of 4 strokes per hole (on a 3 par course); finished before 4pm. Perfect!

Where, oh where, in the world is this?

Photo by Cynthia Dial

Where, oh where, in the world is this?

Answer for last quiz:  The bean in Chicago.

Where, oh where, in the world is this?

Photo by Cynthia Dial

The Carmel Valley Life

“I’m a wife, mother, journalist and addict – a travel addict – because for me, travel is like breathing, I can’t live without it.  I say my office is the world, and in actuality, it is.  As a travel journalist I’ve visited all seven continents, 60 countries, countless cities and innumerable countrysides, where I’ve attempted Argentina’s tango, canoed in the Amazon and ridden a Harley-Davidson throughout Melbourne, all for a good story.” Please continue reading
http://www.thecarmelvalleylife.com/traveling-around-the-world-for-a-good-story/

Torrey Pines First

After 7 years of beginning each morning by walking Torrey Pines, I experienced a personal first today -- a whale sighting. We early morning walkers were greeted by two whales frockling about 50 yards from the shore.  Photo by Cynthia Dial

San Francisco, San Diego, San Juan

One Journalist, Three San's, Three Weeks

Photos by Cynthia Dial

As a travel journalist, my #1 on-the-road rule is flexibility.  Sure I travel a lot and not every destination is one to which I hope to return, with even some visits to my favorite destinations falling short of expectations.  But when my travel stars align and I’m treated to three weeks of memorable moments, I can only rejoice.  Rejoice and recount (briefly).

Here goes:

1^st week, San Francisco.  I walked the city.  Cable cars were frequently full and a taxi cab seemed too common, so I hiked the hills like a billy goat . . . down Nob Hill, up Russian Hill, down

Lombard Street

, up Coit Tower.  Most stops translated to food/drink treats and included Buena Vista’s Irish Coffee, a Ghiradelli Sea Salt Chocolate bar, cup of North Beach cappuccino with Italian cookies and a Chinatown lunch.  I long ago lived in the city, I love the city and I left my heart there.

2^nd week, San Diego.  Every time I fly home to San Diego, bypassing downtown’s skyscrapers, paralleling the picturesque harbor and landing in almost-always-perfect weather, I applaud my husband’s and my decision to move here over 20 years ago.  So I take advantage of the So Cal lifestyle.  Here’s what I always enjoy, including April’s 2^nd week:  morning hikes at Torrey Pines State Reserve from the beach up to the golf course (it’s my daily exercise); an evening at the beach for sunset with our beach chairs, friends and food; and Little Italy’s Annual Festival which meant a fun-filled Sunday.

3^rd week, San Juan.  Confession: I’ve been to San Juan twice, both as a passenger from a cruise ship and both times I liked San Juan, but I didn’t love it.  So when the opportunity arose for a more comprehensive peek at the Puerto Rican haunt, it was with mild enthusiasm that I returned to the island.  However, not being one who refuses to admit that I was wrong, I admit it.  I was wrong.  This is the Puerto Rico I found.  An island proud of its creation of the Piña Colada—there are several claims to its birthplace; so we set out to taste them all (please note, it’s research).  A culinary capital of pork, roasted-on-a-spit whole suckling pig—for real pork lovers, it’s worth the 30-45 minute drive from San Juan to “La Ruta del Lechón,’’ also known as “Pork Highway” to sample the product at eatery after eatery (all informal).  Tip: ask for the crackling (the crisp, cooked-to-perfection skin).  The list goes on and on: the quaintness of Old San Juan, shopping in Olé (store specializing in authentic Panama hats), sampling java in Ciales (Puerto Rico’s coffee region), breakfast at La Bombonera (known for powder-sugar-dusted ham and cheese sandwiches called Mallorcas) and if timed right, attending Saborea, San Juan’s annual beach-fronted, mouth-watering food festival.

So, three cheers for the three San’s of my recent life—San Francisco, San Diego and San Juan.  Question: Santa’s not officially a “San,” is he?