Soaking it up in San Diego

The many airport terminals en route to San Diego — Frankfurt and San Francisco, in my case — are no matter, for the beguiling, seaside city with the same February weather as New Delhi is, quite literally, a breath of fresh air. I take it in deep gulps as plentifully as the Napa Pinot Noir, along with leisurely walks by the marina with its boats, and a quaint village with bars and shops. Gulls swoop past, looking for crumbs; pigeons coo and sparrows flit; there are ducks — I recognise mallards — and even a stray rabbit not unduly scared by tourists. A light smattering of rain soon clears up and the sun is warming. Jackets are taken off, dark glasses put on.

San Diego is a convention city thanks to its excellent infrastructure, but few Indians think of it as a leisure destination because ’Frisco and Los Angeles hog all the limelight. But Indian visitors ought to consider it more seriously, and not just for its sights. The rolling countryside, the blue of the Pacific, the proximity to Mexico — no further than Gurugram or Noida from Delhi — make it appealing. Walks in the neighbourhood, a restored old town, a zoo voted the world’s #1, an oceanarium — there’s plenty to see and do in a Big City that feels like a Small Town. 

I’m in San Diego to attend Visit California, an outlook forum of industry specialists that’s as high on optics as its selection of speakers. Sessions are open to everyone, there are receptions, glitzy award ceremonies, showbiz style entertainment, but what’s exceptional is the way all industry heads are bent on packaging California as a destination for the peripatetic globetrotter. There’s friendly banter as well as competition between destinations, attractions and hotels. The hottest conversation is the potential loss of top overseas supplier China leading to a revenue setback of billions of dollars, thanks to the quarantine on coronavirus. So, psst!, if you can manage the long haul, you’re bound to find great bargains to plug in a yawning supply gap this summer.

The American disdain for a hearty breakfast is evident at the venue where nearly 800 delegates get by on fresh fruit and croissants, but lunches and dinners are more thoughtfully put together to offer a glimpse into the variety of food on offer. The quality is excellent — whether food carts or fine dining — as I’ve already discovered, and for three nights in a row I find myself at Marriott’s Marina Kitchen where a waitress called Aubrey becomes a default advisor on matters gastronomical. I’m not sure I’ll ever be a fan of potato skins — the cheesy part is disgusting, besides being fattening — but the ribs and fish are excellent. Mostly, though, it’s the wine and martinis that keep the spirit from flagging despite the jet lag.

The time difference is ideal to escape conversations with the family back home — such respites are hugely recommended, dear reader — but I know they’ll at least be expecting presents. I make a show of heading for the San Diego Museum of Art, and am seen off with fanfare, but head for the Fashion Mall instead, where the shopping is quickly done. It leaves me time to cultivate a Sauvignon Blanc and cherish the ability to justify a lie while exchanging culture for commerce. The museum can wait till the next visit.