We did visit the Coronado Islands. But you can't ride there either. No roads and only vertical dirt and rock. Besides, people are banned from the islands.
Which is just fine, in my opinion. We have given tiny North Island to the brown boobies, oystercatchers, spotted fur seals, sea lions and other animals who have lost the mainland to us.
In case you are wondering, we did see six blue whales; the largest animal ever to live on earth. They are breath-taking to observe. A statistics-minded person onboard our vessel said a single whale weighs the same as 30 elephants, and more than the entire NFL - all teams, all players!
I rode this morning instead. I went down alleyways and back roads. These alternative routes are mostly traffic-free, but they evoke in me a slight melancholia. The fronts of our homes are (mainly) nice looking, well groomed and painted. The backs - as seen from alleys and from trains passing by - are more often a mess. Unpainted, disheveled, piled high with dribs and drabs of dross. Unfinished projects. Projects not even started. A lot like us, I think.
A disadvantage of living in the same neighborhood for many years is the occasional feeling of "what if?" that comes over me at times. A decade or so ago, we put in a bid for a house on Zola, with a phenomenal view of the bay. But when the owners finally decided to accept an offer one early Sunday morning, they called our agent. He was in the shower and they got his answer machine. "Tough luck!", they said, then calling the agent of a rival bidder who'd offered the same price, was sitting near the phone, and who got the house. Alas, we could be living here.
