When I first caught a glimpse of that skyline, my heart felt content. It’s not every day that you visit a new location, somewhere made up completely of unfamiliar streets and a different culture, and feel so much at home.

Late night In-N-Out Burger was a must, considering we were in California, so we happily welcomed ourselves to the Golden State animal style. Even at 11pm there was a line out the door, but it was worth the wait. We returned to my cousin Hannah and her roommate Neil’s cozy North Park apartment where I curled up on a couch and fell asleep from travel-induced exhaustion.

Torrey Pines became day one’s primary focus, and we probably spent about three hours trekking up and down the large hills and stone steps of the park. It was absolutely breathtaking looking out over the coast; looking at the ocean never fails to make me feel so small. I apparently found it so breathtaking that I got caught up capturing a selfie and didn’t see the steps we were approaching. I took a tumble, dropped my belongings and got a scuff on my brand new white low tops, but it’s okay because the selfie turned out pretty great. There, the joke of the trip was born. It became sport over the next few days to see how many times I would trip or fall on our journey throughout San Diego. (The least amount of times I tripped in one day was twice, but that hardly counts, as Jenn pointed out, “Because you were sitting on the beach for the majority of the day.”)

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