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Archive for May, 2010

When Chris and I finally took the plunge and moved to San Diego, we set out in search of an apartment in the perfect area.  This was no small feat: San Diego is a sprawling city with tons of choices. There are beach bungalows, downtown apartments and houses nestled in the mountains. There’s coastal La Jolla and the towns and cities of North County. Here’s what quickly learned: finding the best place to call home takes some trial and error.

It was never a question that we’d spend some time living at the beach – after all, we moved to a place known for its year-round sunshine and mild temperatures. So here we are, in a great place right on the beach path in Mission Beach. I have a porch, an ocean view and a spare bedroom. Sounds fab, right? It is – for the most part. Here’s the catch: we live within walking distance of several college bars, in an area full of 20-somethings, retirees and vacationers. It’s hard to really feel at home – and annoying to deal with an upstairs neighbor who parties six days a week and is constantly entertaining his “lady friends.” (He’s made the blog before).  I’m really missing the professional couples and families that were our neighbors in New York.  

That’s why I’ve fallen in love with Little Italy, San Diego. This is one place beyond the beach that I was taken with right away. Technically part of San Diego’s downtown, this Little Italy is quite different from the one in New York City. It’s on the harbor, for starters, and is a fraction of the size. It is home to one of my favorite restaurants, Buon Appetito (which has a wonderful wine bar connected to it), and is in close proximity to Balboa Park, the Gaslamp Quarter, the Airport and Coronado.  Clean and vibrant – marked by colorful trees and flowers and buildings in shades of yellow, red and purple – it is a welcoming place that seems to have everything I’ve been missing. When we headed there for the Sicilian Festival last weekend, I felt like I was back at one of the many summer street fairs they hold in my old NY neighborhood.  Of course, we stopped into Buon Appetito for a glass of wine. Almost three hours later, we realized we’d spent the entire afternoon sipping Sangiovese (and possibly making a great business connection) with a delightful couple from Corona. Talking about life and work with people over the age of 21 and under 75 was refreshing. But as Chris says, “Big things always happen in Little Italy.”

We’ve decided our next apartment should be in Little Italy. In the meantime, I am soaking up every bit of the beach that I can before we move on.

UPDATE, June 24, 2010: Read what The New York Times travel section has to say about San Diego’s own Little Italy. Seems we’ve chosen one of the city’s burgeoning neighborhoods as our next home!

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I recently started writing for Travel Squire (www.travelsquire.com), an online travel magazine and travel itinerary planning service. My first assignment: a profile of one of my favorite restaurants in San Diego. In the name of research, I checked out the tasting menu from Chef Christian Graves. It didn’t disappoint. The restaurant, located adjacent to a fantastic Kimpton hotel, also has a roofdeck lounge that I’ll be at this Saturday. You can read the article here. Prepare to salivate.  

 

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A funny thing happened this week on the way back from a long trip to New York: I found myself eager to get home to San Diego.

Up until now, New York was my home. You’d find me saying that I was going “home” to see my family and friends and catch up with freelance clients. That the West Coast pizza was nothing like the pizza at “home,” and the people here were different than those I knew at “home.” (Did I mention I’ve gone “home” for three extended visits in six months?).

For someone who loves to travel and experience different places, I realize I was being a bit myopic – it was the East Coast way or the highway. I know now, however, that I’m much fonder of my West Coast city than I thought. This also comes as a huge surprise to Chris, who was ready to admit me as a borderline schizophrenic last month.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m a New Yorker, born and bred. I grew up on Long Island, went to college in Syracuse and spent 11 years living in Manhattan. New York has given me a thick skin, a strong work ethic and an appreciation for the color black. Most of the important life lessons I’ve learned as an adult were a result of being beaten up, sometimes rather badly, by New York City (we have a love-hate relationship).

But here’s the thing: I can be a New Yorker and a San Diegan, because for me, right now, home is where the Wi-Fi is. Clients understand that I can work just as hard for them as a telecommuter as I can in-house (and I have the creators of Skype to thank for adding an “in-person” element).  

Being a freelancer means being flexible; if I find myself missing family and friends, I can head east for a while – all I need is a quiet corner with several outlets and an Internet connection. It almost makes up for not having paid vacation time.

Plus, the word “bicoastal” just sounds really cool. 

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