Moving day again, although we all seemed to have a different view of what time we had agreed to leave. My opinion—and, of course, the only one that really mattered—was the earliest. Therefore I took my cases down the multitude of stairs and into the car in the Bat Cave before it even seemed Neil was awake.
It didn’t matter too much as we had built a bit of contingency into today’s plans, and we were all ready and in the car by 10am.
Our first stop was Belmont Park, a short 15-minute drive away. Karen spotted a Starbucks, so we went through the drive-through before finding somewhere to park and, even better, the parking was free.
The area initially seemed a bit rough around the edges and Karen, being understandably paranoid about someone stealing her luggage and discovering quite how many tops and shorts she had actually brought with her, suggested she remain in the car (with the keys this time) and drink her coffee whilst Neil and I went for a brief wander.
Once we crossed the road it was actually rather lovely. The beach was already filling up with people settling in for the day. There was also a huge World Cup fan zone organised by San Diego FC, which seemed to be full of people wearing Argentinian shirts as they were playing at the time. We neither had the time nor the inclination to pay to go in.
Instead, we wandered around Belmont Park, which was the real reason Neil wanted to visit. He was determined to ride the original roller coaster dating from 1925. He bought the eight tickets requited to ride (at $1 each), walked straight on and thoroughly enjoyed it. It looked a little rickety to me.
Back in the car, it was then another 98-mile drive to our next stop, using a mixture of freeways and interstates. It wasn’t an easy drive. At times there were ten lanes with exits on both sides of the road. Many American drivers still seem to treat driving as though it’s a video game, so you have to keep your wits about you at all times. There was no respite.
Nevertheless, we safely reached the Richard Nixon Library and Birthplace. It felt rather strange visiting somewhere dedicated to a man about whom virtually all my recollections were less than positive. The place also felt extremely secure, so Karen was happy to leave her bags unattended this time.
It cost us $79 in total to enter, although we felt a little better knowing that any profits are donated to various causes.
The first thing we watched was a 13-minute film about Nixon. It didn’t shy away from the controversy and, in fact, opened with it. I was only twelve when he resigned and, rather shamefully, knew very little about the events apart from what I’d seen in the film – All the Presidents Men.
The library itself, as with all the presidential libraries we have visited, was extremely impressive. There was a huge section devoted to Watergate, but that inevitably overshadows many of the genuinely positive things he achieved during both his life and his presidency. He was clearly a remarkable intellect and the world still benefits today from some of his diplomacy and policies.
Yet he will always be defined by Watergate.
What began as an attempt to uncover a conspiracy gradually became a desperate attempt to cover up his own actions by digging himself into an ever-deeper hole. To me, it seemed there were several opportunities early on where, had he simply admitted what had happened, he might have survived politically.
But he didn’t.
Anyhow, exactly why did Elvis present him with a gun when he visited the White House… and how on earth did he get it through security? Also, what must Dick (as he was widely known) have thought when the Queen presented him with a signed photograph of Charles?
In the grounds stands the modest house in which he was born, complete with much of the original furniture. We enjoyed a short guided tour. Fittingly, both Dick and his wife Pat (whose real name was not Pat) are buried just behind it.
I thoroughly enjoyed the visit. Karen rather less so, for whatever reason. Neil was also fascinated, although afterwards he summed Nixon up rather neatly as “a paranoid crook.”
Afterwards we drove on, stopping to refuel before calling at another Trader Joe’s to buy fresh milk and bread. That didn’t take long.
We then continued to our apartment, which featured an even more adventurous reverse escape room than the previous one. First we had to obtain the fobs for the garage and lift, then negotiate another entry system to reach the apartment itself. Mercifully, the air conditioning worked much better in this one.
There was a quick turnaround before we headed back out to Downtown Disney, which should have been less than fifteen minutes away but, thanks to the traffic, took closer to twenty-five.
We had booked a table at Naples Ristorante to soften the blow of the exorbitant parking charge. It was rather warm as we walked through Downtown Disney to check in for our table. We did so… and then had to wait five minutes for a text telling us our table was ready. We then had to join another queue before finally being shown to it.
In Norfolk terms… what a faff.
I had the chicken Caesar salad, which was both plentiful and very good. Neil wanted to share a large pizza with Karen, but she spent a considerable amount of time deciding which one he was allowed to order. Still, they both seemed to enjoy it.
Afterwards we wandered slowly back through Downtown Disney, popping into a couple of shops before having a quick look around Disney’s Grand Californian Hotel. Karen and Neil treated themselves to an ice cream from Salt & Straw.
I wasn’t asked if I wanted one.
The journey back to our lovely cool apartment took barely half the time of the outward trip. We got ourselves organised for the morning ahead before retiring for the night.
This trip may be all go…
…but I am not a quitter.
