Snapshot

Don't really need a camera this trip, I think.  A small digital would do.  I have a few postcard photos of things, but nothing of any importance.  I would need to be here longer and encounter things.

Yesterday, I drove up the coast to Encinitas and then drove back slowly hugging the coastline, stopping wherever there seemed a prayer of anything interesting.  Cardiff.  Del Mar.  La Jolla.  Mission Beach.  Ocean Pacific.  Rocky coasts, cliffs, hidden coves, dotted with flat, sandy beaches.  Highway 101 a hangover of 60's California and the worst of the 90's, but the coastline surprisingly accessible.  I stopped everywhere, found street side parking, ran down to un-peopled places, or places where only surfers dotted the water, walked seaside trails between the ocean cliffs and rows of cottages painted with picket fences and wildflowers.  People were friendly.  Southern California living, the endless summer.

For all the money, this part of California seems hopelessly middle-class in tastes and values.  There was nothing so much different from the hopelessly middle-class town from which I came.  Same schlock.  This is not L.A.

As I walked, I kept thinking of the detective mystery novels I had read.  "She lived in a little cottage in Del Mar.  I'd have to drive down to see her.  Del Mar.  It seemed home to every deadbeat drifter who'd run into enough money. . . ."

La Jolla was not what it is cracked up to be.  The Whale Bar was a disappointment.  It is all pretty, but what the people do to it. . . .

Mission Beach was no Venice Beach, but it was sleazy enough.

I wish I could have photographed the Belmont Roller Coaster from on top.  From the bottom, I just couldn't make it look like much.

But last night's swordfish tacos were excellent.

It all needs time.  These snapshot impressions are only that.  Nothing gets interesting until you can invest some time.  Capital.

People-less pictures.  That's what you get.  That's all I could do.