San Diego Part Two: Lost On Vacation

Venture into a flea market or an antique mall. Maybe you’ll find a vintage postcard collection, a faded surfboard sticker, or a mid-century lamp begging to come home. The joy is in negotiating with an elderly vendor who remembers San Diego before the condos. Small purchases = souvenirs with stories.

If you prefer indoor wandering, a quirky museum can be just the ticket — lesser-known collections often have the sparky oddities that make you tell the story later.

Come back inland to a neighborhood with local flavor—Hillcrest, South Park, or Ocean Beach have satisfying late dinners without the tourist markup. Find a bar with live music: a solo guitarist, a four-piece jazz combo, a punk band that plays with ferocious joy. Let the soundtrack of the night close the loop on a day of wandering.

Dining strategy: Pick a place with communal tables or a bar. Conversations with strangers are the best way to extend your day’s detours into new plans.

Part Two took a sharp turn when we tried to use logic. We decided to navigate by landmarks. “Look for the USS Midway,” my partner said. “It’s an aircraft carrier. You can’t miss it.” lost on vacation san diego part two

Famous last words.

We took a trolley. Wrong trolley. We ended up in Barrio Logan, which, we discovered, is home to some of the most vibrant murals in the Western Hemisphere. We forgot about the ship entirely. For two hours, we wandered Chicano Park, staring at fifty-foot-tall images of Aztec warriors and lowriders. A local named Elena asked if we were lost.

“Yes,” we admitted.

She smiled. “You’re not lost. You’re just not where you planned to be. There’s a difference.” Venture into a flea market or an antique mall

She pointed us toward the bay. We walked under the Coronado Bridge, which rumbled like a sleeping giant. And then, finally, we saw it: the gray hulk of the USS Midway Museum. But here’s the thing—we were on the opposite side of the bay. The ship was right there, across the water, laughing at us.

To get to it, we would have to walk two miles back, take a bus, or swim. We chose the bus. The bus driver, a man named Earl who wore sunglasses at 9 p.m., asked where we were going.

“The Midway.” “Wrong bus,” he said, and closed the door.

We waited another forty minutes. When we finally reached the Navy Pier, the ship was closed. The gangplank was up. A sailor in dress whites waved at us from the deck. We waved back, defeated. Small purchases = souvenirs with stories

We had spent six hours trying to see a parked boat. We failed. And yet, standing there in the salt breeze, watching the city lights reflect off the black water, failure felt suspiciously like victory.

Skip the main drag and wander the side streets of North Park. What looks like an ordinary block can open into a café with board games, a secondhand bookstore with a cautious cat, or a tiny gallery showing local prints. Lunchtime options are treasure hunts here: taco trucks, vegan diners, experimental sandwich shops. Order something you can’t pronounce and share it.

Highlight: 30 minutes of aimless wandering often yields a lunch that becomes the day’s favorite memory.

The second day of getting gloriously lost in San Diego picked up exactly where the first left off: with a stubborn sense of curiosity and no hard agenda. If Part One landed you at the waterfront and the classic tourist beats, Part Two is for the detours — the small neighborhoods, unexpected vistas, and the salt-tinged errands that become the memory-makers.