Getting out of the house
San Diego staycation gets writer back to a happy place
SAN DIEGO — On our recent vacation, my husband and I visited the Australian outback and an Asian rain forest. We ogled otherworldly leafy seadragons, stumbled upon a majestic bald eagle and luxuriated in the hypnotic calm of a Pacific Ocean kelp forest. There was also time to visit a serene island paradise. Twice.
In other words, we stayed home. But when home is San Diego, a staycation can be your ticket to the mind and body reboot you could probably use right about now. Or a lifetime ago, give or take.
Way back in the Before Times — January? February? The dreamy blur that was 2019? — our family vacation plans involved airline tickets, aspirational itineraries and no masks. Could we swing Scotland? Or if not Scotland, then Portland maybe? Then the coronavirus pandemic hit, and we began to recalibrate. Portland in the spring became Pismo Beach in the summer, because surely everything would be back to normal by then. Or if not normal, than at least road-trip friendly.
But everything wasn’t back to normal. And the more my risk-averse husband and I thought about the challenges of getting more than a few hours away from home — the perils of public restrooms, the great unknown of restaurant meals, the black hole of hotel life — our vacation plans became less ambitious. They also became a lot more focused. By September, our getaway hopes and dreams could be boiled down to six simple words:
Must. Get out. Of the house.
And that is what we did.
For one glorious week in late September, my husband and I closed the door to the home office we had been sharing since March to explore the foreign world that was San Diego life outside our lockdown bubble. After six months of going almost nowhere but Trader Joe’s, Barons Market and Target, we went to the San Diego Zoo Safari Park, Birch Aquarium and Silver Strand State Beach in Coronado. We traded Zoom meetings and dark Twitter rabbit holes for kangaroo encounters and pelican dives. We took photos of animals that were not our cat. We looked at fish tanks that were not our Roku screensaver.
We got out of the house, and it was
amazing. Best of all, it was also normal. Which at this point in time is about as amazing as life gets.
What is it like to visit popular tourist spots as a stimulus-deprived local? Given our current reality, it starts with some minor adjustments. Both the Safari Park and Birch Aquarium require visitors to answer some health-related questions before entering, and you are required to wear a mask or facial covering, except while eating. They are also operating at limited capacity, so weekday visits are your best bet. At Birch Aquarium, visitors and members are required to reserve tickets for a specific day and time in advance.
Animal shows aren’t happening right now, and some of the viewing areas are closed. The aquarium’s Splash Cafe is open, and the Safari Park has plenty of food options available. There are many hand-sanitizer stations and multiple signs and stickers reminding you to keep your six-foot social distance. There is no reentry at either the aquarium or the Safari Park.
But once you are in, you will be greeted by the comforting sight of sharks, sea turtles, wallabies and tigers going about their days as if nothing has happened. The Zen-like calm was infectious.
At the Safari Park’s Tiger Trail, one of the big cats lounged against a viewing window, stripy belly exposed, giant paws hovering daintily in the air like Alexis from “Schitt’s Creek.” At the Walkabout Australia exhibit, Western Gray kangaroos congregated in the shade for group
naps and enthusiastic grooming sessions. On the path to Condor Ridge, a bald eagle fixed us with a steely survivor’s eye that helped us focus on life’s bigger picture.
On a quiet weekday morning, the interior of the Birch Aquarium felt calm and not at all claustrophobic, even with our masks on. The leafy seadragons and seahorses were mystical reminders that nature, like life, is full of surprises. Not all of them unpleasant. The Kelp Forest tank was an oasis of such serene beauty, it has become my go-to mental escape in times of stress. And the story of the aquarium’s loggerhead sea turtle, which was rescued from a New Jersey power plant in 2013 and rehabilitated with the help of a 3-D printed brace for its shell, gave me hope on so many fronts.
We wrapped up our week with two visits to the Silver Strand State Beach on Coronado, where parking was plentiful, the bathrooms were pretty much spotless, and you could wear a mask while walking and keep your social distance while lounging and still feel like it was just another day at the beach. It wasn’t, which made it all the more precious.
Like the other highlights of my San Diego staycation, my days at Silver Strand were everyday escapes that suddenly felt like minor miracles. I stayed home and somehow managed to get away from everything, including myself. I could do that because I am lucky enough to live here. And there is nothing minor about that.