As we paddle along the border to one of the Seven Sea Caves of La Jolla Cove, my tour guide points to the cliff above us and shares how past access to this cave was via a 60-foot descent by rope. Those who took the risk were bootleggers who stored whiskey in the cave during prohibition. Nearly 100 years later, my everyday California kayak group stared at the enormous swells that angrily trashed against rock walls at the entrance. While the swirling rips threatened the lives of anyone who dared venture inside, it was obvious we were not welcome in this cave. As we kayaked away, sea lions frolicked alongside near the La Jolla Shores almost waving goodbye.
Mesmerized, toward the pristine shore, I reminisced on my experience in La Jolla. On Friday evening, I arrived in time for dinner at Whisknladle, one of a plethora of casual, yet upscale dining options in an area known for its local catch and great social vibe. A glass of Chablis paired well with an amuse bouche of gruyere gougère and a pink lady apple salad with walnuts, while my main course of scallops with savory Wild Isles Salmon implied I’d landed in foodie heaven. Friday was a most memorial night as the sounds of live music, the wind blowing my silk Rhelm dress and taste of my Chablis hitting my lips, is engrained in my memory for years to come.
However, La Jolla presented much more than local, fresh catch and fine wine, but a feeling of living the good life. As a guest of the Balinese-inspired Pantai Inn, located a mere 20-minutes from San Diego I felt as if I was living in a dream. I tossed my Rhelm shirt on, opened the windows to see that a Mercedes SUV was made available and delivered outside to my second-floor bungalow. Inside, a full kitchen, living room with a view of La Jolla Cove, and a bedroom with a four-posted bed garlanded in white fish netting added to the centering energy flow. The ease of a timer-dialed gas fireplace set the stage for a relaxed mood throughout my stay; I felt calm, yet adventurous.
By morning, following a short stop in the courtyard for a buffet breakfast with an ocean view, I jogged across the street to walk the cove where sea lions and seals sunbathed on rocks below, and further down where surfers glided across tunnels of waves. Nature’s eye candy lured me to continue my exploration with a walk across town, past bustling downtown shops, art galleries, La Jolla murals, Spanish architecture -- to lunch at Galaxy Taco. Surrounded by walls of Mexican-inspired graffiti, I sat inside to sip a margarita and munch house-made blue chips dipped in award-worthy guacamole made with a kick of Serrano pepper. I ate so much guacamole I could barely finish two of the best tacos I’d ever tasted: one crispy fish taco and a carnitas. Before dinner, I had walked off the calories from lunch in time to meet up with a friend for cocktails at La Valencia hotel’s lounge, where its nightclub entertainment offered a bit of time travel with two performers who channeled Dean Martin in “Mambo Italiano” and Edith Piaf in “La Vie en Rose”.
Shop this blog and enjoy the outfits worn. #liveyourRhelm
