I had the luckiest opportunity this past weekend, the ability to travel to San Diego with incredible people to not only attend a convention, but also to explore and engage in a setting vastly different from my home. While the convention itself, hosted Student Television Network, was amazing in and of itself, it was San Diego which stole the show.
When I got off the bus with my BBN members, I was amazed by San Diego’s life. The city was breathing yet not hectic, almost a toned-down New York or San Francisco. The towering buildings and myriad of shops lining each corner were a welcome departure from the slow-by-comparison image I was accustomed to at home. The hotel I stayed in with my classmates, the Ramada, added to the city life of the Gaslamp Quarter with Frank Sinatra soothingly reminding me that San Diego was my kind of town.
In between and after the convention’s scheduled seminars, my classmates and I explored. Seaport Village was a highlight of the trip. The atmosphere was perfect for an afternoon stroll, for there lie ice cream shops and amazing sights to appreciate. A few of my friends and I spent our lunch there, eating, contemplating, photographing the life around us.
But it was the nights which made me realize how much I miss San Diego. At night, the city truly came out, as the flashing neon lights of stores filled the streets and made San Diego feel more alive than it did during the day. And in my last night there, I spent it on the roof of the Ramada, seeing the city awake for the last time, alongside people I adored. And Frank Sinatra was still ringing through my ears, calling me to come fly with San Diego.