8th day - 18th February 2022

My traveling speed has significantly decreased now. It's good to relax a little because in three days I'll be alone and then it will be at least more physically demanding in terms of travel. Rose will come by at 11:00 am with the dog. She sounds like she only has about 3 minutes left to live. I'm already preparing for the last rites, but she seems to be surviving. In the end, the return journey would be too long for her, so Tom is picking her up while we drive towards La Jolla with his son Ethan.

La Jolla is an upscale part of the San Diego area and has a beautiful beach. We first stop at a sandwich bar that Rose and Maik have visited before. The owner also claims to know her. However, I'm not completely sure. When I go inside to ask something, she also claims to recognize me. Pure tactics, I would say.

After enjoying our meal in the beautiful sun, we drive to the parking lot near the beach and enjoy the nice weather with a walk. It's quite busy, and there are also some brave swimmers in the sea. One of them has to be rescued right away, at least that's what the Baywatch station says. But the surfer didn't look like he really needed help to me.

1 hour later, we head to the cliffs where countless paragliders pursue their hobby. The view from here is breathtaking. And there are so many in the sky that you would think they would eventually collide. But somehow they all get along and up there they will enjoy the view just as much as we do down here.

After another hour, we decide to head home. Tom has reserved a dinner with his friends and colleagues, and the taxi will arrive at 6:15 pm. The traffic back is still manageable, and Ethan is doing great. You can tell that he's used to these massive traffic jams. I quickly change in my hotel room and then start walking to Tom's place.

The taxi arrives a little later because we have to book an oversized one, as we are five people. The journey to Chula Vista takes more than half an hour. For Americans, it's a small hop, but for me, it's actually a holiday ride.

When we arrive at the restaurant, our reservation seems to be nonexistent. Tom is quite angry, and the three of us retreat to a bar across the street and have a drink. When he shows up after 15 minutes, everything is sorted out. She apparently didn't understand that we belong to the party that is already here.

The restaurant is not to my taste at all. The loud, pounding music reminds me of a bad nightclub. It's barely possible to have a conversation. Who wants to eat with all this noise? Interestingly, throughout the evening, some people tell me that they don't like it either. But I guess you have to be trendy and go along with it.

The food is tasty but not outstanding. After 1 hour, I have a pretty bad headache and I go outside for a bit. Even there, the music is still clearly audible. Tom's friends are all very nice and want to know how I'm doing. I tell them that the music is too loud for me and that I'm an old man. John Paul from Colombia says that next time we should meet at a bar for a beer. John Paul - you're my man.