3790 Udall Street

I walked off the wharf feeling a bit more relaxed even though I was going on the words of recovering racist Rastafari. I slowly made my way back down Newport to where I parked my car. I hoped in it and began rifling around in my back seat which had now become consumed with what I call "road wears" or to put it more simple an assortment of garbage I had been collecting on my journeys. I tossed things about in a frantic pace looking for the map of San Diego I had obtained from the visitors center on my way into town. Frustration led to me smashing things about in my car until its discovery where some how it made its way between the passenger seat and passenger side door. Poring over the map in search of Voltaire was another frustrating effort. I really didn't even know where to start and stress was wearing my patience thinner then they already were.

It wasn't before long that I came across the street in an "Ah HA!" moment, and was on my way. I was actually surprised how close It was to my present location, I was further surprised that following the directions given to me by an unlikely source actually led me to the place I was looking for.

I turned the corner and came across an obnoxious looking red building, that screamed gaudy. Out in the front of the building was a large picnic bench where two Hispanic men sat chatting with two rather plain and obtrusive looking girls. As I made my way up the drive I tipped my hat to them and nodded the universal hello. I then walked over to the door where I found a large window to the right of it where a gentleman on the other side sat with a frat boy look listening to MP3's on his computer. He went over all the usual check in mumbo jumbo and took me on a grand tour of the place.

The place was very secure, before I could even enter I had to be buzzed in from the other side. The front door had an electronic lock which required the proper combination which was changed everyday. Stepping into the place I immediately noticed a series of large tables to my right where a small Asian fellow sat poring over some brochures in a manic fashion. The young gentlemen who checked in me then escorted me through the main common area and began to point out all the amenities the hostel had to offer

"Over here is the movie room, you'll find a big screen TV in there and you can check out movies from us at the front desk. Off to your right here we have a computer that you can get on the internet with if you want to pay.......I think its a buck for like 15 minutes. Walking this way we have the kitchen you can use one of these drawers that coincides with you room number that way no one will be tempted to eat your stuff, we have two refrigerators and please clean up after yourself when your done."

As he whisked me through the kitchen there was a tall very slender black man who resembled Chris Tucker, standing in front of the stove in a very effeminate manner. He gave me a look, and I know it wasn't my imagination. It was one of those looks that gave me the "Oh no, God please don't let me have to be in the same room with that guy because I know this isn't going to bode well."

The thought was fleeting as I was then escorted back outside into a small courtyard, then led up a flight of stairs and down a shallow hallway into a small back room that overlooked the the street below. I was then given a brief rundown of the weekly events, when checkout time was and shown my bunk for the night. My guide quickly made an exit closing the door behind him. As soon as he left I let out a giant sigh of relief and sat on the floor in front of my bunk. A slight ocean breeze was blowing and the windows in the room were all open causing the curtains to expand and contract like a deep breath that matched my own feeling of relief.