From Ana to Moana

It’s been well over a month since my trip to San Diego, and I have still yet to write about the third item I crossed off my 25 Things List during my California adventure: surfing.

This is because while I’ve wanted to write this post, I’ve been busy crossing off four other items from my 25 Things List! Stay tuned for more on that – for now, let’s get back to the most dramatic installment of my California trip yet.

Kaysey and I woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on our last full day of our trip and hustled down to Pacific Beach, where we’d scheduled surf lessons at Pacific Surf School.

Pacific Surf School is the way to go!

10/10 would recommend these guys if you’re looking to get surfing lessons in San Diego.

Our surf instructor’s name was Garrett, and he was super chill – though I suppose most surfers are.

We had a fun time learning how to surf.

This is a photo of Kaysey and I looking cute before the waves totally demolished us and made us look like sea rats.

I forgot to bring a ponytail holder, and immediately regretted it, because my hair was down and thrown into my face almost every other second, so don’t forget to bring a ponytail holder if you have long hair and intend to learn to surf!

We started our lesson on the beach, where Garrett began telling us about the dangers of the ocean. I was pretty unconcerned – he said sharks never came to this beach, because there were no fish to feed on, and there was no reason for them to come this way. He told us the most common less-than-idea animal interaction on the beach was stepping on a stingray, so we should drag our feet whenever walking through the water. Stingrays are pretty docile little guys, and aren’t out looking for trouble – the only reason they sting is if they’re just hanging out, taking a little nap in the sunny side of the shallow water, and then all of a sudden a giant foot comes along and steps on them – they get scared, their tail whips up and hits the person’s ankle (usually), and then they swim away. If you drag your feet, it disrupts the sand, and gives them a little heads up that they may want to skedaddle.

I felt like we were in good hands, so I didn’t worry much about dangerous sea life while we were surfing. I mostly become an innerly competitive Type-A who had something to prove to herself, but more on than in a minute.

While on the beach, Garrett taught us how to pop up from the board, which we were told is one of the most challenging parts about surfing, because it’s the most important part and involves teaching your muscles to instinctively move in a certain way.

He also asked us what we’d done the day before, and we told him how we went to SeaWorld and hated it.

Garrett told us that SeaWorld does some pretty neat rescue things for animals, and they get to see that every now and then while surfing, but he understood our dislike of the aquatic tourist trap.

“This is the real SeaWorld,” he said, holding his arms out, gesturing toward the pulsing waves and sandy beach.

He was definitely not wrong.

Garrett had us practice our pop ups few more times on land, and then we headed out into the water.

We were right in the midst of crashing waves.

I’m going to be honest, I forgot to drag my feet most of the time, but I ended up alright.

Garrett took us out to the section of water where waves were rearing up and ready to break – more experienced surfers were further out in the water than we were. However, it was a bit of a physical challenge to stand where we were – the waves kept breaking, pushing against us, and it exerted a lot of energy to stay where you were and not lose your board. Garrett told us to jump into the waves as they broke, which crazily made it way easier to stay where you were. I felt like I was playing an old school Super Mario game, where I was Mario and the waves were Koopa Troopas. Garrett also told us to angle the board above the waves, as you can see in the picture above, to avoid having your board shoved away from you (or into you) by the waves.

And with that, we surfed!

Garrett held on to our boards while we hopped on, and then pivoted our boards as we waited for a wave. Then, when a good one came, we were off!

My inner Type-A demanded that I be a good surfer. She was definitely let down.

Each time I tried to pop up, I remember pushing my arms through the wave, furrowing my brow, and putting all of my determination into conquering that wave. Even now I can feel that urgent need to succeed in my chest. My focus definitely showed in my pictures, too.

I wanted so badly to be good at surfing.

This is the face of someone who really wants to be good at surfing, but is actually really bad. I kept trying to channel my inner Moana and conquer that damn wave.

It took me so many tries to stand up on my board, and I swallowed so much sea water. I also discovered that contacts kind of suck while surfing – so much water washed into my eyes that they began to really sting, and after awhile, it was really challenging to see, which didn’t make surfing much easier. I actually almost lost a contact at one point, but somehow rapidly blinked it back in place without becoming half-blind, lost on a surfboard in the ocean. So that was cool.

I kept almost getting up on my board, but then psyching myself out and not being able to get up all the way. The photographer for the surf school kept telling me I needed to get out of my own head. If he only knew…

I kept trying to pop up, without much success.

While I was floating on my board, waiting for a wave, Garrett suddenly said, “Oh my gosh! Look! There’s a bunch of dolphins!”

So I looked up, and sure thing, there were several dolphins jumping in and out of the water. Two days in a row of dolphin-swimming experiences!

Garrett told me that it’s pretty rare to see dolphins come that close to shore. Approximately 15 minutes later, Garrett said, “Oh wow! There’s a sea lion swimming over here!”

So I looked over, and a sea lion was swimming about ten feet away from us. Garrett said he’d rarely seen both animals during surf lessons, and never in one day, so that was pretty cool!

I was furiously determined to get on my board at least once, and I finally did! I don’t have any good pictures of it, but I do have a great series of photos that depict my rise and fall in the ocean. Let’s check ’em out.

Step one: Finally stand on board, panic because you didn’t think about making it this far and now you’re unbalanced, and wave arms around in an attempt to center gravity.

Me trying to figure out what to do now that I'm up on my board, finally.

Step two: Lose center of gravity.

Trying to get your balance back once it's gone is pretty impossible.

Step three: Dramatically drink ocean water.

Dramatic fall into the ocean after finally being victorious.

At some point during our lesson, Garrett and I were walking along the shoreline, when he went, “Oh my gosh, your knee is bleeding! Are you alright?”

So I looked down at my knee, and it was absolutely gushing blood right into the ocean. It took me a second to register, because I didn’t feel any pain, and I didn’t remember injuring my knee (though the ocean had tossed me around quite a bit), but there I was, looking at blood streaming from my kneecap. I don’t want to be too gory, but we’re not talking a small amount of blood here, and I’m not amping this up for the story’s sake. It’s over a month later and my knee is still healing from my wound.

“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t even know that happened, so I guess I’m fine!”

“We have a first aid kit back at the beach,” Garrett said. “Do you want to go to shore so we can take care of that?”

“Nah,” I said. “It doesn’t hurt, so I feel like it’s alright.”

“Ok. Well,” Garrett said. “Do you want to go back into the ocean?”

“Sure!” I said.

For a moment there, I looked at the blood pouring from my knee and into the water, and wondered if walking into the ocean while bleeding was the smartest decision, but then I thought, hey screw it, come at me sharks! And followed Garrett back into the water. We’d already seen dolphins and sea lions, so why not make it a trifecta?

I figured that since sharks were never in this area that it was pretty low risk. Also, if my instructor didn’t think it was a terrible idea, then I felt like it would be alright, too. After all, he was going to be standing right next to me in the water, so if he didn’t feel like that was risky, I was willing to get back to surfing!

After our session was over, Garrett showed us some cute little sand crabs, and how to find them by scooping up sections of sand with little air bubbles in it.

As you can see, we were pretty exhausted, but also super happy with our experiences. Here we’ve just stepped out of the ocean, and you can see my left knee just beginning to gush blood again! What a joy.

Surfing was a success, even though I sucked at it.

Checking The Tourist Boxes

After our surfing extravaganza, we took a jaunt over to Kansas City Barbecue, where we met some of my Californian family members for a nice lunch! Afterward, we headed over to Mission Bay, where Kaysey set on her “mission” (pun intended) of finding a sweatshirt.

By then, we were pretty tired, so we headed back to our AirBNB, where we lounged by the pool and recharged.

The views were great.

The views were great and the pool was amazing. I’ll be dreaming of this AirBNB for the rest of my life.

After a little R&R, we decided to take an Uber down to La Jolla, and check out the beautiful views and infamous seals.

La Jolla is gorgeous.

It was beautiful.

There were lots of tourists and also creepy birds that I did not enjoy being around, but the views were stunning.

The views at La Jolla are stunning.

It didn’t hurt that we arrived during the golden hour.

The seals and sea lions were sprawled out along the cliffs, and I felt kind of bad for them, as it would probably be pretty weird to be laying on the beach and having a bunch of people taking photos of you. (She said, having taken several photos of the sea lions herself.)

The La Jolla sea lions must hate the paparazzi.

Some people (like Kaysey and I) stood at a respectable distance and utilized the zoom feature on our cameras, so as to not invade their space as much. However, people kind of suck in general, so many of the people in the crowds were getting way too far up in the seals’ business.

This guy in particular was having none of it, and would bellow at anyone who came too close. Good for him. I see a lot of myself in that guy.Sea lions did not put up with anyone's bullshit.

We wanted to accomplish as many tourist-y things as possible in our final hours in California, so we went directly to Old Town, where we got dinner, ice cream, and perused a few shops.

Old Town was pretty hoppin’ by that time.

Old Town was bustling.

Then, we headed back to PB, where we’d been told there were great bars for people of our age. We had a few drinks and had a fun time at the bars, but there came to a point, where like everything else in California, there were just too many people everywhere. We’d left a bar, and intended to visit another, but the lines had become so long at that point, that it was nearly impossible to get in anywhere.

Needing fresh air and to be away from people, we simply walked over to the beach, a handful of feet away.

We sat near the ocean for awhile, people-watched, and had discussions about the moon (it was pretty bright that night, see below).

It was crazy how directly to our right, the world was so calming and peaceful, while directly to our left, the world was full of flashing lights, laughter, and loud people. The juxtaposition there was intriguing.

The juxtaposition at PB was actually kind of cool.

We decided to call it a night, and headed back for a night of sleep before the worst travel day I’ve ever had.

After packing our things and getting ready for our flight, we had a nice discussion with our AirBNB hosts, who welcomed us back any time. I will gladly return to that place! It was an oasis.

Our check-out time was 11 a.m., but our flight didn’t leave until a little after 4 p.m. However, we didn’t want to carry our suitcases around San Diego with us, and I have access to airport lounges, so we decided that we would just head to the airport and hang out in the lounges and drink free champagne for a few hours.

This would have been a great plan, except Sun Country doesn’t allow passengers to check-in until two hours before their flights, so Kaysey and I arrived at the airport five hours before our flight took off, and couldn’t get into the lounges, because Sun Country wouldn’t check our bags until 2:15 p.m.

So, we had a lunch at Bruegger’s Bagels, and deposited ourselves on the cold, hard floor across from the Sun Country kiosk, and waited.

Several kind Minnesotans began seating themselves around us, as we all found ourselves in similar positions. Finally, 2:15 came by, we checked our bags, made it through TSA, and headed in the direction of the lounge.

For some reason, my gut was telling me that we needed to find our gate before we went to the lounge, so Kaysey and I tracked down the gate, which was pretty close to the lounge. We saw from across the room that the board at the gate said it was going to Minneapolis, but I told Kaysey that my gut was telling me something wasn’t right, so I walked all the way up to the board, matched the flight number up with our tickets, and confirmed that it was, in fact, the gate for our flight.

We then headed to the lounge, where we enjoyed the comforts of free WiFi, food, beverages, and plush seating for a few hours. It took us a little longer than expected to pack our things up, so we left the lounge about five minutes before our scheduled boarding time. When we made it to the gate, it was dark and empty, which is when I began to panic. The board now said that the gate was closed, and there was not a human in sight.

We rushed to find a flight board to see where our new gate was located, as the tickets we’d been given from Sun Country didn’t have a gate listed (THANKS Sun Country) – we’d found the first gate based on the flight boards around the airport. (Ok but seriously what airline doesn’t include the gate on their ticket?)

The new gate was on the exact opposite end of the airport, which is when Kaysey and I became “those people.” Yes, the people running through the airport.

We ran to the other side of the airport, hearts pounding from stress and from being out of shape, and made it to the gate as they were boarding Group 6. We were Group 3.

Happy to not be stuck at the airport for additional hours, and to be getting home, we relaxed for the flight ahead. When we landed in Minneapolis, we were pretty exhausted, and knew that our travels weren’t yet over – we still had an hour drive back home.

Minneapolis Mania

We started by taking an Uber back to my brother’s apartment, where we’d pick up my car to embark on the final leg of our journey. When our Uber arrived, I was sketched out for a few reasons:

1) He didn’t have an Uber sticker on his car at first glance – it was tucked away in the back corner of the back windshield, pretty much out of sight, so I didn’t immediately know if it was him.

2) He didn’t say my name when he drove up. Most Uber drivers will try to confirm that you are the person they’re picking up by saying your name, which is also reassuring on my part, because the odds of some random person driving up and guessing that my name is Ana are super low, and therefore I feel confident that I’m not about to be kidnapped before getting into my Uber. He didn’t confirm my name, and when I tried to confirm his name, he looked at me and spoke to me like I was stupid, which I did not appreciate. I’m just a 23-year old woman trying to be safe in a world that inherently is not.

I double-checked his license plate to make sure it matched up with the app, and he then got out of his car to help us put our bags in his trunk. Then, he drove us to the middle of downtown.

Now, I’m pretty sure this is my fault. When I pulled up the Uber app, it suggested my brother’s address for me, but it left off the directional portion of the address (North, East, South, West), but I clicked it anyway. Our driver pulled up to the middle of a random street in downtown Minneapolis at 11:30 p.m., and told us to get out. I tried telling him that it was the wrong address, thinking maybe he could drive us to my brother’s apartment, even if we had to do another Uber transaction, but he was a bit of a jerk, so I decided I’d had enough of being in his vehicle, and Kaysey and I took our bags, and were suddenly stranded in the middle of Minneapolis, not for the last time that evening.

We called a second Uber, who was what some might say, too friendly for our current moods, and who dropped us off outside my brother’s apartment. Kaysey asked him to pull up a block further where my car was parked, and directed him toward a black car that wasn’t mine. I was too tired to argue, and wanted to be done with Uber drivers for the evening, so we got out next to the random black car, and I figured we could walk the block up to where I had parked my car.

Kaysey began walking to the black car, and I said, “Kaysey, that’s not my car. I must be a block up, so we’ll just have to walk.”

Kaysey stopped. “No, Ana. This is where you parked your car.”

“No, I must have parked it a block up.”

“No, Ana. I’m telling you. This is where you parked your car.”

I was a little irritated then, because I definitely knew what my car looked like, and this black car was not it. “Ok, well that’s impossible, because my car is not here, so this cannot be where I parked my car.”

That’s when it hit me.

However, I did not have the time or mental capacity for it to be true, so I panicked. “It has to be a block up. We need to just check.”

Kaysey wasn’t budging. “I’m telling you, I remember you parking in front of this house.”

“Well that’s impossible, because if that were true, that would mean my car is gone, and my car cannot be gone.”

It was midnight in Minneapolis. My brother was out of town at this point, and none of my friends were in the Twin Cities. There was no one who could help us; we were utterly alone.

I needed to check and make sure my car wasn’t a block up, thought at that point, I knew. I pulled out my keys, clicked the alarm button, and nothing. Absolute silence. That’s when I knew for sure it was gone, and that’s when I about lost my mind. Scratch that, that is when I lost my mind.

I started by calling my parents, who were about an hour’s drive away at that point. Neither of them answered. Then I called my brother, though I knew he wasn’t home, because I needed someone to help me figure out what to do.

He didn’t answer, and then texted me a few moments later. What’s up?

My car is gone. I wrote.

He then called me back.

Did I mention that Kaysey and I both had dying phones? My phone was at 29% and Kaysey’s phone died while I was talking to my brother.

My brother looked up my car, and found that it was in an impound lot, and had been there since the day our flight took off, so it had been towed pretty quickly. Since it was midnight, and Sunday, the lot was closed, and I couldn’t get my car until 8 a.m. the next morning.

This was the moment I realized I wouldn’t be going to work in the morning. The whole time I’d been convinced that we could work it out, and I could get to work on time the next day, somehow.

I ended up calling my aunt, who lives closer to the cities, and who took pity on Kaysey and I, and drove out to pick us up. Due to construction around the cities, it took her and my uncle an hour to get to us. We’d already been stranded for awhile, at that point, so Kaysey and I hauled our bags to the front stoop of my brother’s apartment, and waited in the darkness for my aunt to arrive. I shed more than my fair share of tears in the face of this unfortunate circumstance.

I also remember sitting on the front stoop, and seeing a group of shadowy figures walking across the park near my brother’s apartment, looking at Kaysey, and saying “If anyone tries to mess with us right now, I swear to God I’m in such a mood, they’ll regret it!”

No one bothered us though, and I like to think it was the rage-filled look in my eyes. Or maybe no one wanted to mess with the crazy lady crying on a front stoop at midnight in Minneapolis. Either way.

We stayed at my aunt’s house that night, and she drove us to the impound lot the next morning, where I was informed that I was towed because I had been parked within five feet of a driveway, and was given a hefty fee to pay for my car.

It wasn’t exactly the ending I wanted to wrap up my California trip with, but it makes a hell of a story now. Note to self: make sure you’re a full five feet away from any driveway in Minneapolis before parking there, and always listen to your gut. Always.

All in all, despite our various issues with transportation, we had a blast on our trip, and I got to cross three whole items off my 25 Things List!

Stay tuned to hear about the next four items I’m crossing off my list!

Want to read more about my 25 Things list? Click here for more adventures.

 

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