Detour: San Marcos, California
Today I’m in the San Diego suburb of San Marcos on an overnight road trip. I’ve been curious about crimes involving lottery winners, and I came across one here. Yesterday, I traversed the mountains between Palm Springs and the California coast that create the rain shadow in the desert where I live.
I overnighted at one of the newly spiffed-up vintage motels blooming nationwide. The property displays the typical characteristic of this type of refurbished lodging: well-intentioned and energetic but questionable design choices. The room décor here combines Hollywood Regency furnishings with shiplap walls from HGTV. Still, even if their designs don’t entirely work, these reinvigorated, independently run properties are a fantastic option.
The community surrounding the motel is the real surprise. It was built in the early 1960s as one of the first retirement communities in California. The homes surround a lake formed by a creek dammed in the 1940s and later expanded. The lake allows small boats and fishing. Part of the property is maintained as a preserve, and waterfowl, including swans and herons, are flying and squawking everywhere.
The motel offered me a significant food & beverage credit at the nearby golf course clubhouse. That provided a chance to see lots of white people in their early forties drinking pints at the bar early in the evening. At 7 pm, most of the restaurant tables were emptied of people but full of dirty dishes. And while the understaffed wait crew was trying their best — as young people like to say — the food fit a disturbing new foodservice trend. In contrast with farm-to-table, you could call this warehouse-to-table. Cooks take ingredients prepared by Sysco and overdress them with sauces and flourishes. They deliver a meal that resembles fine dining but is oversalted and overcooked. Nevertheless, any road trip evening that doesn’t involve a Hampton Inn and a chain restaurant is a happy one.
Today, Southern California is facing an early spring rainstorm. Snow is a possibility in the mountains, as is flash flooding. I’m returning this afternoon via a different route that skirts the bottom of the mountains.
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