Only a fool drives to Old Town on the weekends. I prefer to take the Green Line Trolley. Unless late at night, it runs every fifteen minutes. Don't speak to strangers. They probably want money. However you can get a feel of San Diego by tuning into the jabber on the train. Today I am in luck. A man with long beards on each side of his face listens to music. The bearded one has not shaved in years. Two baked skin homeless are asleep. The odor is thick with stench today. I hold my nose. The train stops and I jump off.
Old Town is East of the train station. I walk with the cross light and go to the Wrightington House. It is hidden by four large olive trees. Inside the yard are porch chairs. Inside the old white house I buy a mocha to take outside. I munch on my tuna sandwich and watch the growth of the baby Concord grape arbor in front of me.
The season for locquats or Chinese plums is just about over. I pick a few of these sweet yellow looking figs to digest the tuna sandwich. From there, I walk up the street to my favorite place to listen to music. It is just after the pottery and cigar store. A group of white dressed musicians from Equador blow into white tubes of different lengths. My mood changes. I wish to dance. I bought one of their fifteen dollar CD's. I treat myself with a chocolate ice cream cone. The tasty looking Mexican restaurant is out of my budget this month. I celebrated my brother's and daughter's birthdays. It was over my budget.
For only $4.95 I went for a cheap but good and filling dinner at O' Hungray's restaurant just in back of the restaurant. Across the street is a Gothic white Catholic Church. Next to it are the tour bus trains. It is over thirty dollars to ride them. I prefer walking. At O'Hungry's I order pork. It comes with brocholli and mashed potatoes.
I return the way I came. Sometimes, I stop at the deli. It is a quarter to use their bathroom. If lucky, a patron leaves and I enter free. I enjoy the chatter and smell of those who wait for the train. "Take out that cigarette!" A transit authority yells at a young one flicking his skate board. I am relaxed and all tuckered out. It means a long restful sleep until the next time when the Green Trolley removes me from reality to the scenes and sounds of Mexico at Old Town.
Now is the time to visit Old Town. It is seven thirty and I'll make it until my retirement check arrives. The breakfast special at O'Hungrys on San Diego Street is only $3.23 including tax. It includes a eggs, ham or beacon and country fries. Today I can overlook coffee, it gives me heart burn anyway. i am on the corner of Twigg Street and San Diego.
Across the street sits the Immaculate Conception Church. The morning sun is coming up to its right but it does not matter to a Palm and Old huddling together and almost hiding the old church. Mass begins at 8:30 to I pay my bill and leave a dollar.
I feel spiritual today. In the rear sits a visitors pew. The colored glass windows radiate their colors as the sun penetrates their skin. One of the windows glorifies Father Serra, the builder of Missions in California. The sound of organ music overhead puts me into a trance.
A younger large boy lumbers around holly water over him. He bends down and waves his arms in different direction. He is in constant motion and even removes his shirt to itch. I ignore preferring to listen to music just before the mass begins. Church goers arrive and make a donation. They push a button and a candle lights up.
Just in back of me, Mon sSenior Escolante enters holding a cross along with others.The sermon about honoring the 10 commandments is finished and most visit the front. It is a glorious day and know I will be back. I grab a coffee and donate and enjoy looking at the rectory and beautiful flowers in bloom. I then leave and watch the first trolly bus leave with its sightseers.
Old Town makes it another perfect beautiful day in San Diego.
I return at night to remove my car. Several hundred Dallas Cowboy fans are leaving on Amtrak.. Again the 6:20 is overbooked. It is at least three hundred oversold. Wow, I am happy to visit the Patio and listen to Augustine play the guitar.
