Over 10 miles of boardwalk surrounds Mission Bay, about every 25 yards this sign is stenciled
There is a lot of Gringo’s in Costa Rica, so celebrating the 4th continues, except you are in a tropical environment with monkeys swinging in trees. Places like the America Embassy party starts around (have to get invite to that bash) 1pm, complete with the typical BBQ food of hot dogs, hamburgers and potato salad, to tiny open bars like Rock n Roll in Santa Ana. About the only things missing are the huge displays of fireworks that light up the sky in Star-Spangle-Banner in just about every US city.
As a kid and until my mid adult life growing up on the beach I love the holiday. We would party all day, eating, drinking and end the day watching fireworks. It was fun. But in San Diego, it has become a let down, so I/’m going to get away from Costa Rica and into a holiday that has become more of grind and hassle.
By 9am, every parking lot is full.
This 4th I went to my sister’s house in an area called, South Mission Beach in San Diego. I had a wonderful time as the neighbors set up a pot-luck of awesome food, open bars and you just hipped hopped from house to house. Good people, family, sunny day, awesome food, the smell of ocean and you would think heaven. The problem is the mayhem; the 4th has now allowed the idiots, the drunks, the rude people, and with that said getting there and back, and dealing with the crowds was a nightmare. For the 6 mile round trip drive it took me almost an hour and a half – traffic was worse then San Jose at rush hour.
Mission Bay Traffic becomes a stand still by 1pm
Plus San Diego’s beaches also has it rules; No Drinking, No Smoking, No Glass Bottles, No Fires – total bummer. How can you have a good time without the above?
The crowd is chaotic! The beaches are packed like sardines. The parking lots are closed at 9am, so useless you have a reserve spot forget it. People hold up signs selling parking spaces for $100. So the park area starts to get filled at 1am with people staking out their party zone with tents. By 9am, it looks like tent city filled with the smoke of anything that you can throw on a grill and boom box blaring music in 20 languages.
Mission Bay's Tent City
Liquor stores jack up the price of beer and ice and every 50th car is a cop, either in a car, motorcycle, and beach patrol mountain bike. By 3pm the arrests of drunk and disorder start to fill the paddy-wagons that are brought in to handle the overflow. Traffic become a stand still as tow trucks take over towing cars from being illegally parked and jaywalkers staggering across a log jam of traffic, screaming drunks, radios blaring everything from rock to pop, and honking.
Did I have fun? Of course, it is always nice to see my sister and family. Hummm, maybe I can talk her into moving to Costa Rica.
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