A relaxed start to the day today. I made some pancakes in the kitchen, and chatted with some of the other guests, and the hostel staff who are all really cool people. I think that’s a bit of a hack, put out free pancakes in a hostel, the ice breaks and everyone gets talking.

After brekky, I went to the post shop and picked up a USPS flat rate box. Back at the hostel I filled it with stuff I didn’t feel like carrying, 2x Whittaker’s chocolate blocks, about 25 apricot Bumper Bars, a duffel bag for checking my backpack onto flights and some extra toothbrushes (of which I certainly couldn’t bear the weight, since they haven’t been cut in half yet).

Admin done, I headed to Barrio Logan, I’ve been trying to visit Las Cuatro Milpas for the last few days. I’m told that this is a real genuine Mexican food place, not to be sniffed at. The trolley drops me off about 10 minutes south of Downtown San Diego, and I stop to check out one of the tallest freeway bridges I’ve ever seen.

The Mexican restaurant does not disappoint, the atmosphere is super down to earth, and I learn that they’ve been running since 1933, nearly a whole century. Inside, nobody was speaking a word of English, I’m sure they probably could, but this is their spot and they’re not about to let some tourist get off easy. I ordered the Chorizo Con Huevo, and was given a huge bowl of chilli with rice and home made tortillas. Add a can of apple soda for good measure and the whole meal cost me $8.50 USD. I could barely finish all of it, and I was still stuffed 5 hours later.

With an insanely full belly, I head over to Gas Lamp Quarter for a walk around the streets downtown and also check out the convention center. By the time I get back to Little Italy, the day is late and I feel like I want to revisit Bottlecraft, a really cool place which I discovered on the first night in town.

The same bartender from the other night is on again and he immediately recognizes me (helps that I’m dressed like a hiker and I stick out like a sore thumb). We chat about my plans to head to Campo and were joined by a few more of the locals, including, allegedly, the bar’s longest running regular, a dog (named Maxi if I remember correctly) who has been visiting since the bar first opened 12 years ago over the road. On the way out I couldn’t resist picking up a can of stout, I bet that’s going to taste amazing at some campsite in the desert. At the end of the day I’m feeling happy to have made new friends in a new city before heading off on an adventure.