Road Trip v.2 (Part 7): San Diego & Vegas

I realize the two cities in the title of this post make no sense being lumped together. That's how we roll --making zig zags through the country. After we left LA, we went back to Kim's house in Laguna Niguel to pick up my car. From Laguna Niguel, San Diego was a mere one hour away. Yes, it was an extra two hours away from Vegas but, hey, it was my first time in California...might as well go from top to tip. We would only have 5 or 6 hours in San Diego, so we would have to strategize pretty effectively. We left LA early to beat traffic, which we somehow managed to do. During the whole stay in LA, we were pretty lucky with traffic. I never witnessed the snarling ungodly freeway parking lots I've heard so much about. From Laguna we stopped in Dana Point. There, we met up with Kim's boyfriend who was kind enough to treat us to some great French Toast at this tiny French cafe where everyone had French accents, which of course means it was legit.

We arrived in San Diego, still without a completely clear plan of what we were going to do there for the afternoon. I really wanted to hit up the zoo. Both Kim and I went to high school in Omaha, which proudly touts its Henry Doorly Zoo as the best zoo after San Diego. Objectively, the Omaha zoo is pretty awesome. It has, in fact, made several "best zoos in the nation" lists, often coming second to San Diego. I wanted to see what all the ruckus was with San Diego's zoo and properly compare my hometown zoo. The problem was time. The San Diego zoo is huge and we had to commit it as our only big activity in the city. We both really love animals, so we were cool with that. The only other spot I really wish I could have visited was the Midway Museum, a Navy museum on a giant aircraft carrier on the harbor. Oh well, "next time."

The polar bears were my highlight

To fully maximize our short time there, we took the 35-minute bus tour that drives you past 70% of the zoo and the animals. The bus made short stops at each animal pen, especially if the animals were doing something hilarious or cute. Then, we used the map to backtrack and pick a few things we didn't see and a few animals we wanted to see closer. Top of my list was the arctic area to see the polar bears and puffins. Top of Kim's list were the meerkats. We checked out a few other awesome animals like the pandas, koalas, sea otters, and kangaroos.  One of my two complaints with the San Diego zoo is the layout. It is incredibly confusing and poorly marked, which is really only annoying if you're on a tight schedule and need to get places quickly. My other complaint (and this is a seriously negative): There were no puffins or penguins!!!! What the hell? My favorite part of the Omaha zoo is the giant aquarium area where you can watch dozens of arctic birds waddle, flap, and swim about. I asked three different workers if the zoo kept any penguins or puffins, just in case I had missed them. The answer was always no. The arctic habitat was a big fat joke at the San Diego zoo. All they had were the polar bears and some other lame non-waddling birds. Okay, I will admit, the polar bears were crazy awesome. They were going after a giant pumpkin (which I had no idea they eat), and the viewing area was right up on them in the water.  And, okay, yes, I'm the only one who would freak out about the legitimacy of their arctic birds and habitat.... Seriously though, no puffins?!

Harbor with Midway Museum
in the distance

We took the sky line gondola down to the entrance, which gave us great views of Balboa park, the city skyline, and the zoo. I really like the San Diego zoo. It was clean, the animals seemed happy, and there was a lot of variety to see.  I would totally take them up on a sign I saw that advertised a camping event where you could spend the night in the zoo. I can't begin to imagine how incredible it would be to tramp around a zoo at night. Yet, I also realized that Omaha's zoo is pretty great as well. San Diego had nothing on Omaha's rainforest and aquarium habitats.

Overwhelmed by draught choices?
Don't worry, the wheel o' beer at
Regal Beagle will pick for you. 

After the zoo, we drove by the harbor, took some pictures of boats, and drove through the trendy Gaslamp Quarter. Then, we went to our only really planned stop in San Diego: dinner. It's so like us to have food as our only planned activity. The chosen spot was Regal Beagle, a neighborhood bar that specialized in various sausages and brats, and a killer draught beer list to pair with your meat. I had the smoked beer sausage, topped with cheese, and paired with a Chipotle Ale. It was a scrumptiously smokey meal. Kim got the onion sausage, topped with sauerkraut, and "paired" with ...*cough*... cider. Despite residual sugar striking again, I had to be impressed that she totally owned her order. When the waitress asked what Kim wanted to drink, she shamelessly asked for something "like Woodchuck." I laughed heartily. The sausages were incredible...a different kind of incredible from the bacon-wrapped creations we had two nights before in a gas station parking lot.

From dinner, we hit the road for Vegas. It was a long, dangerously sleepy drive. I was kind of tired and cranky by the time we got there. The crankiness was furthered by the depressingly sad side of the Vegas experience our hotel had to offer us. We were staying in the Imperial Palace. Great location, but both Kim and I had a bad feeling as soon as we parked. It wasn't even the room that was so awful; it was actually better than I expected after my first impression of the lobby/casino. I've stayed in mediocre hotel rooms before without a problem. Here, it was a whole awful package: the depressingly dank casino, the smell of sulphur and smoke everywhere, the stains on the carpet that we could only assume were old vomit to remind new guests of past mistakes, the godawful elevators, the trashy attached club....the realization that we didn't just come here to play a game of cheap blackjack. We were sleeping here.

Fat City, you say? We live there.

To know me is to know a person who gravitates towards places, cities, or activities that involve a layer of grimeyness-- grimeyness, for instance, that might qualify something as a dive or "hole."  There are different kinds of grime I like; they all give a place character. You have your grime that imparts historical nostalgia or social and economic lessons; you get that in dying cities like Detroit or Cleveland. Then you have your grime that resonates with lived-in authenticity; that's the grime I love, for example, when walking through the row-houses of Baltimore. You have the grime that collects from decades of experience in certain homey, high-quality mom and pop shops; I'm thinking Greek Deli in DC or Guy and Mae's in Williamsburg, Kansas. There is even the standard filthy grime you put up with for short periods of time for a cheap drink and friendly faces in your favorite dive bar.

And then you have your Vegas grime, which is the kind of grime that makes you a little sad to be alive.

Concentrated doses of Vegas grime has no character. It is just a reminder of everything that's still wrong with people and the world. It's the kind of grime that stinks of desperation, laziness, hedonism, self-loathing, and egg farts. God, everything smelled like egg farts. Each time I saw someone checking-in with children, I questioned their fitness as parents for bringing their toddler to those accommodations.

This was a different Vegas experience for me. Usually in past trips, I've stayed somewhere moderate and gambled somewhere cheaper. I always left with a neutral and widely-held attitude towards the city: good food, great times, but only palatable for a few days. This trip was a new feeling.

On the first night we attempted to hit up downtown Vegas. It was so late that we had missed the lighting ceremony. Beyond the lights, downtown Vegas isn't anything special. In fact, when we went, it was empty and depressing. It was so depressing, in fact, that we actually preferred to go back to our room and watch cartoons with ice cream and beer.  The grimey Vegas experience is great for certain activities, but soul-suckingly depressing if you're completely immersed in its pure form. We weren't asking for luxury. After all, we had a great time gambling at Circus Circus for the cheap blackjack. Our hotel, though, was supremely dark, dank, and it made our blood pressure spike a little every time we walked in because we were stuck there. Yes, Vegas is an escape from reality and in some sense, decency. I eat like a fatty and play beer pong until midnight. I don't do that every day, at least not since law school. But to keep from going insane in Vegas, you have to be able to escape Vegas while in Vegas. There is no escape when you're playing AND staying in the saddest spots Vegas has to offer.

Despite the depressing accommodations, we had a lot of fun in Vegas. We were joined by our mutual friend Myke on both nights. Kim's boyfriend and his friend came up from LA as well. So at least we were rolling with a crew. We had all been to Vegas on multiple occasions, so it was the usual for us: drinking, eating, and gambling with good company. We stuffed ourselves at the Wynn buffet and explored some casinos we hadn't seen. I had some terrible overpriced gelato and candy at Sugar Factory, which is apparently popular with all the smartest celebrities like The Girls Next Door, Nicky Hilton, and the Situation. Had I known that before, I wouldn't have wasted my time in there. We tried not to overdo it. Because the next day we were up by 8 a.m. to get to the Grand Canyon, leaving most of our our city adventures behind.