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Holidays in the sun
It is five months before 9-11,
and we were in San Diego for a three week holiday. A good friend was
having a wedding and we were invited. A rarity in that I am uncontrollable
at the best of times! The strange thing about having a longer break is
that even if you really like a place when you get there, after a few
weeks, the veneer starts to rub off in your mind. Suddenly the Emperor, no
matter how great, will seem like an old stripper who can't wait to get her
kit off...(couldn't resist that metaphor, sorry!)
San Diego was no exception...
It was about 2 minutes into checking in to our Super 8
motel that we realized that the airport was the center of this place's
priority. As every two minutes a plane would fly in from over any part of
the city into the airport which was literally smack, bang in the center of
this city
...erm disaster planning anyone?
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| It took a day or so to get our bearings and to decide that we
wouldn't hire a car. Bad mistake. But, like the individualistic
idiots we are, we decided to walk to some places...I would now
recommend this as a rule, just so you get a different view of a
city. On the days we weren't getting filthily drunk with our
compadres we took strolls through the street, which quickly turned
into a fully blown highways which quickly started to choke us.
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| On one memorable hike we ended up in the pseudo-private
member areas of Mission beach, old wooden beach-front buildings
slinked along the coast, where the skate punks skated and the
surfers surfed, and the 'new metal' kids tried to look hard. In fact
they all seemed a little aggressive, a little too eager, until while
on the beach, somebody wise informed us that they weren't skate
punks at all, but mostly marines from the huge nuclear submarine
base that we were staying within!
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| This wise homeless man also told us that the
younger 'real' skatey new metal types were probably going to end up
marines too, and that the cleverer kids would probably end up at
Cal-Tech and be spooned into silicon valley. No doubt working on the
new Nano-technology revolution that has been going on
for nothing short of ten years now. But then this wise man had to
go, because he was homeless and to stay out too long on the beach
without his buddies would probably mean getting reacquainted with
either the aforementioned marines, or the private police force that
enforces a strict 'rich college kids / marines' only law.
He told me how one time he was sleeping on the beach, next to
one of the many free fires that you can build and these guys just
came up and kicked him in the face.
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All of this with the American Stars and Stripes being flown every
half a mile from solitary flag poles, with buzzards flying overhead.
One night we ventured into the downtown area only to find just
swish high rise banks, a lot of homeless people and a YMCA that
looked like war zone...oh how we looked.
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 Warning: walking around
makes you look suspicious in America. | 
We rode the tram either way as far as we could go...with
Mexican-American gangs dressed in leather and studs eyeing us up
suspiciously. (Rightly so, we probably looked alien to them...)
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Tijuana
| Moving north up to the business conference rooms and condos
of Pacific beach and La Jolla, where the security followed us
around. We traversed down past countless identical small run down
towns and over the Mexican border, to the industry of pain and
sorrow that is Tijuana...all mini markets, seedy liquor bars and
pumping party music. This was where the marines all go to get drunk
and have a good old laugh at the Mexicans expense and I imagine that
bars get smashed up on a regular basis.
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| Coming back to the 'good 'ole U S of A' was a perfect
example of over zealous border control and police state
mentality. Huge queues of people and loads of armed cops.
Being white made me feel strangely safe and that made me feel
scared for the people who weren't. It was all a stark contrast
to that of actually going into Mexico, moving past the
massive, tragic, 'last' McDonald's and up a spiral concourse
along a massive mural, past two Mexican policemen, up and over
and there you were.
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| After witnessing this we venture to the main Mexican festival
in San Diego old town - Cinco de Mayo. Hundreds of people all moving or
slouching, to the various mariachi and latin music on offer. A hot
and beautiful day...Until we decided to go for a drink. We ended up
in a regular bar in the old town, a saloon with the usual suspects
all lined up at the bar. There was no ice because of the 'energy
crisis' California was having...Something which a simple read of the
paper and a quick look outside at night would set alarm bells
ringing in any other country. Everywhere lights are burning
constantly...yet there is a crisis
with rolling blackouts and a big privatized corporation behind it
all...
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| Meanwhile back in the bar...We are playing pool. There was a
band playing Outside and the back door was open so you could hear
the music start up. As soon as it did (with a good version of a
Santana song) a drunken cowboy got up from the bar went over to the
jukebox and stuffed a song on. With a menacing laugh he went back to
his barstool, and nobody batted an eyelid. This is one thing you
notice about the states. As soon as an American has a drink, he
thinks he is a tough guy. He's always right... and chances are he'll
have a gun. So, off we trundle into the sights, sounds and lovely
culinary smells of the festival, oh well...
It was only the next day that, while talking with friends
that we discovered this was the actual day of the real
festival...yesterday was a family day and was just a warm up. Which we'd
kind of figured out, because all over the news were warnings of 'tensions'
and possible gang warfare and riots' downtown...This is all strangely
familiar to someone who used to regularly go to the Notting Hill carnival
here in the UK...Is it just me , or is it every time 'ethnic' peoples want
to have a party, there is somehow going to be massive social unrest and
disorder!
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So, this was San Diego.
and this was
California...
and this was America.
And it was these memories that help clarify my doubt over the whole
sorry 9/11 debacle. The inevitable American response, revenge and control
freakery seems now concrete and never ending. I would like to thank those
Americans who opened our eyes to the coming war, as this set me off in a
totally new direction...using the web and my memories to seek out
different versions of unknown truth...
ONE WHICH LEFT ME ASKING THE SIMPLE QUESTION:
If 'terrorists' were capable of hijaking 4 passenger jets and flying
them into a target...
WHY NOT CHOOSE SAN DIEGO??? which has
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| 1. An airport in the middle of the city...
2. A massive nuclear submarine base in very close
proximity...
pics from Global security
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