La Jolla brings back some interesting memories to me.
The first one being when I went to a YMCA Surf Camp at 13.
I had only been to one other camp, Catalina Island Camp, and assumed this would be the same.
This camp was so close to the border I could have boggie boarded into Mexico.
I had never been to a Y camp and was confused why the counselor’s were reading prayers to us every night.
The majority of the kids were troubled, so I was convinced that I was sent there because I was troubled.
(Which was not the case.)
It was overcast the whole time, we went surfing maybe once, and they overfed us.
On the last day, parents came to pick up their kids and to watch a grand finale surfing competition.
I think the camp forced us to get into wetsuits and rash guards but no one actually went in.
As I stood with my parents on the close to the border/ overcast beach, my mom looked at me and said, “Lisa, why are you sticking your stomach out.”
Me: “I’m not.”
This recent trip involved over eating (and drinking), but not on a close to the border/overcast beach.
In fact, the La Jolla beach and Tennis Club allow bottles to be on the beach.
It was extremely relaxing and I wish I was still there inhaling wine and cheese.