The Welk Resort is my Cup of Dish

The Welk Resort? Is that somehow related to Lawrence Welk, you might ask. Why yes, yes it is.

Like Walt Disney, musician and band leader Lawrence Welk valued family togetherness time, but instead of building a theme park like Mr. Disney, Mr. Welk built a family resort in Escondido, California.  

The resort is huge. It is split up into five different areas, Villas on the Greens, Melody Hill, Broadway Hill, Harmony Hill, and Mountain Villas. Each section has its own vibe, its own pool, and its own recreation center.

There is a "downtown" main area to the resort that includes a couple of stores, a mini-Starbucks, a Pizza Hut, and the resort's restaurant, the Canyon Grill.

There is a theater where guests can enjoy a Broadway show or an illusionist show.  There is a golf course and tennis courts for those who crave sports.

On the whole, the resort has a very Kellerman's from Dirty Dancing feel.I tried to keep a lookout for Johnny and Penny.  There is an entire range of activities scheduled throughout each day.  For kids there are games by the pool and even a film shooting and editing class. Adults can taste wine and fondue in the afternoons. There is a farmer's market on Mondays, dancing under the starts on Tuesdays, a family scavenger on Thursdays.  There is no need to leave the resort, you could spend a whole week there and have plenty keep you occupied.

A week of good old fashioned family fun was not our goal however. We used the resort as our base camp so we didn't partake of the activities, though I do regret missing the farmer's market because it sounded impressive.

Our suite was located in the Mountain Villa's section.  

Although we didn't visit all of the sections at the resort, I think we lucked out. The Mountain Villa's seemed to be the nicest section.  It was at the edge of the property, away from the hustle and bustle of the busy resort. Our room had a balcony that offered some great views. 

We were across the parking lot from the pool and recreation area in our section, which made walking back from the pool area late at night convenient. 

We were usually out and about during the days, and the chilly mountain air was not conducive to swimming at night, but we did use the hot tub as much as we could.

Our suite was clean and had ample room.  There was a kitchen, living room, and dinning room area.

The bed was super comfy, a bonus as we spent most of our days being physically active. There's nothing like falling into a cozy bed after a full day walking.

The bathroom was large, clean, and had a wonderful shower.

The biggest downside to the resort is its location.  It isn't close to any major attractions.  It is a 45 minute drive to San Diego so you have to plan and pack up before setting out for the day.  If you forget something, like a camera, you can't just nip back to resort for a minute. At the end of a long day, you still have to drive back to the resort.  In some ways however, the distance is also an upside.  The grounds are lovely and peaceful. 

After a day of dealing with attractions and crowds, it was nice to come back and chill out in the hot tub, breathing fresh air, listening to the sound of chirping crickets mixed with the sounds of bubbling water. It induced an instant feeling of relaxation.

We were grateful to Mr. Welk for creating such a beautiful resort.  I think his objective of creating a place that encourages togetherness has been achieved. We certainly had a gret time there together. It was lovely, quiet, and relaxing, all of the things that are exactly my cup of dish.

Extra Note: If you don't quite get the title of this post, google Welkims. They are a pretty good time. 

It's Always Sunny in San Diego?

It started with Key West. That was the original plan, but when we went to book the timeshare, we discovered that Key West is a popular place.  Not only was the timeshare completely booked for 2015, it was also completely booked for 2016.  

We scrambled. We perused the list of other potential timeshare possibilities. There was one close to San Diego. We had discussed visiting San Diego on numerous occasions and so our California adventure was born.

We arrive at the Philadelphia airport at 3 am.  Thanks to online check-in and carry- on bags only, we breeze straight to security.  It’s so early the airport is practically vacant, 

though it fills up more and more as we wait to board our plane.  People around us sip coffee and munch on egg sandwiches and I wonder how they can eat this early in the morning.

Our first stop, a layover, is at Chicago’s O’Hare airport. It makes the movie lover in me smile and I have to hold back the impulse to reenact the airport scene from Home Alone. 

The airport’s bathroom is the cleanest and nicest airport bathroom that I have encountered in my travels thus far. Unfortunately the bathroom is all that we have time for before we board our next flight.

My eyes are glued to the window. I am fascinated by the interesting geometric patterns made by the farmlands below.  They seem almost unreal. 

I planned on taking a lengthy nap, but I’m learning that I’m a terrible airplane sleeper. I startle awake once. It takes me a few seconds to figure out where I am, and why my face is awash in a puddle of drool. 

Confusion sets in when we land in San Diego.  What are these droplets of moisture clinging to the airplane window? Surely it’s not rain?  Isn’t supposed to always be sunny in San Diego?

Despite the dreary weather outside, the airport is clean, bright and open.  

Everyone at the airport is very friendly and helpful. With assistance, we finally find our way to the rental car shuttle.

Our timing is bad.  A throng of people from a just disembarked Disney cruise crowd the rental car office, picking up their cars to presumably head out to Anaheim. The line seems endless. 

There’s no point in both of us taking up space on the inside, so I stand outside while Shannon takes care of the car stuff. I’m happy that I wore jeans and closed shoes on the flight. I’m thankful for my easy to retrieve rain jacket. The people standing in line in their flip-flops, shorts, and tank tops look cold and grumpy. I imagine that they too believed it would be a perfectly sunny day.

We sit in the rental car. The rain tap—tap-taps on the windshield. Originally we planned on spending our first afternoon at Mission Beach, but the weather is not conducive to a beach day. We have been up since 1:30am and are groggier than we expected. For a moment we think maybe we should hang out in one of the museums in Balboa Park, but we admit defeat and make our way to our resort even though we can’t check in until 4pm.

Once in the Escondido area, we locate a Trader Joe’s. We get a parking spot right in front of the store, a feat that is almost impossible at home. 

After purchasing some things for breakfast, we realize that no one remembered to pack the car adapter for the phone chargers, so we find the nearest Best Buy.

All of the Best Buy employees are very friendly.  When they ask if we need help with anything I actually believe them.  Not at all like at home where they usually mumble it and then you can tell that they hope your answer will be no.

When we walk out of Best Buy we discover clear skies. The sun has finally decided to make an appearance. We are hungry, but we don’t want to put a lot of effort into finding a place to eat. There is a Noodle & Company in the same shopping center as the Best Buy.  

Shannon had some tummy issues when he woke up that morning so a big bowl of chicken noodle soup is just the thing he needs. I get the pad Thai. 

The food is tasty and gives us some much needed energy as we ride along winding roads towards the Welk Resort.

It’s still too early to check- in, so we park at the lobby building, and then take a walk around the grounds to familiarize ourselves with the layout.  We are impressed.

When we return to the lobby we find it chaotic and jam-packed.  

Friday is the day when all of the timeshare guests check-in, or so says a balding man holding a tea cup dog. He sets the dog down for a moment and it wildly scampers about the lobby, knocking into guests legs. 

Instead of standing in another endless line, we sit on the lobby sofas and play games on our phones; I exam the rack of tourist brochures. When there are only a few people left in line, we finally check-in.  Everyone is very friendly.  When asked if we would like to take a “tour” of the resort we politely decline. I was already tipped off during my research that the “tour” is actually a timeshare sales pitch. 

We do all of the required ooooing and ahhhhing over how awesome our one bedroom suite is. Shannon goes right to sleep, but I’m afraid to mess up my adjustment to the time difference so I keep myself busy with unpacking. I read the first few chapters of the book I brought that is coincidentally about noodles. At 9pm, California time, I decide that I can go to bed without any ill side effects. Sleep comes quickly and I hope that I will wake up well rested, ready to tackle the adventures that await us on our first full day in San Diego, California.  

Holbox Island by Night

When I was a little girl, I had a number of great- aunts. None of the great- aunts could drive, so my mom, being a stay- at- home mom, and a genuinely helpful person, would pick one or two aunts up during the week and whisk them from store to store so they could complete errands.  I, being a stay- at -home kid in my pre-education days, and during the summers, would be dragged along through countless grocery stores, department stores, and every store that graced the dingy corridors of the Berlin Mart. If I was a good little girl and didn’t whine or complain during the trips, I was rewarded with a churro from the snack bar at Kmart. So began my doughy, crispy, cinnamon-sugar coated love affair.

We walked into town a few hours before sunset.  We had seen Holbox Island town by day, now we wanted to see it by night. 

There was a restaurant, El Chapulim, that I read good things about. It seemed to be the perfect place for a farewell meal.  We weren’t surprised when the restaurant was still closed at 5pm. Latin American dinner time occurs later than it does in the states. We could wait it out, but still, a snack would be nice. Close to the restaurant was another place I had read good things about, TacoQueto.

TacoQueto is part food truck, part restaurant. The sight of roasting meat, and the accompanying pleasant smell, convinced us to stop in for a pre-dinner snack.  

We sat down at a plastic covered table and read through the menu.  We lamented that we didn’t have more time to return another night for a proper dinner. Everything sounded delicious. We each ordered a chorizo-beef taco, and a Mexican coke. 

Of course in Mexico it’s just coke.  

Our server set a caddy of taco fixings on the table.  I love that in Mexico all tacos seemed to come with a top your own taco fixings caddy.  Of course, you won’t find lettuce, tomatoes, or sour cream. They are Americanized taco toppings.  Our fixings caddy had lime wedges, onions with cilantro, and salsa.  

The tacos were heavenly. We took minuscule bites so we could savor our one taco. Our plates were empty too soon.

 During the day the town is hopping with people rushing here and there completing their chores and errands for the day. At night it was just as lively, but instead of work, groups of people congregated at eateries, chomping down tacos, or lobster covered pizzas. 

They sipped beers while local bands warmed up for the night’s festivities. We walked and walked taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the night.  

Foosball

We walked and walked taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the night.  We stopped in stores looking for a few more souvenirs,

checking back at El Chapulim from time to time to see if it was open.  By 8pm we assumed that for whatever reason the restaurant would not be opening this night. We took a lap around town to see if there were any other eating establishments that caught our fancy, but it was evident what we really wanted to do, return to TacoQueto. 

At 5pm TacoQueto had been deserted, but now it was crowded and bustling. Tables were filled with a mix of travelers, regulars, and friends and family of the cooks and servers. 

There was some drumming entertainment while we ate

A woman standing near me wondered aloud if eating here would be worth the wait for a table. I turned and answered yes, maybe a little too enthusiastically because she seemed a bit nervous as I sang my taco praises. 

Since I couldn’t get tacos off of my mind, I ordered four tacos. Two more chorizo-beef, a chicken, and a pork.  

Shannon got a burrito this time.  

He said it was yummy. He allowed me to try a bite of his beans to show me how yummy they were.  The portions were generous, the food filling, and the price, less than $20.00.

We had passed the churro cart in town during our excursion by day. I lamented that it was closed as what could be better than tasting one of my favorite Latin American treats in Mexico? I was delighted to find that the cart must only be opened in the evenings.  I would in fact be able to check eating churros in Mexico off of my food bucket list. 

I had to wait for a while because just as we approached the cart, so did a large group of French travelers. The cart also served crepes. The French travelers, maybe because they missed home, each ordered a crepe.

Finally my time had come. These were not the rotating in a case, once frozen, dried out by a heat lamp churros of my childhood. I watched as one of the cart workers squeezed freshly made batter into the fryer, creating delicate churro rings. 

The churros were scooped out, allowed to drain for a moment, then sprinkled with a generous amount of cinnamon- sugar. 

A man, whose mustache only slightly outshone his cheerful smile, handed me my small sack of churro rings.

The churro rings were crispy on the outside while light and fluffy on the inside. Although I would argue that there is no such thing as a bad churro, I will admit that there are good churros and then there are great churros. These were great churros made all the more special because they were being eaten in a little town on an island in Mexico. 

The next morning, with one last donut in hand,

 we boarded the golf cart that would take us to the ferry 

Saying goodbye to the island

that would take us to the van 

that would take us to the airplane that would take us home again.

We loved our time on Holbox, and as with all trips, we lamented that our stay felt too brief. We departed Mexico grateful for our new wonderful memories of excellent food, perfect weather, and incredible experiences.

The Best Day in Mexico-Part 4

We set out for dinner as soon as we arrived back from our tour.  We knew if we dawdled, tiredness from the day would creep through our limbs and overtake our need for food.

We were on our way to town, but stopped part way to eat at Mandarina, the restaurant that is in the Casa Las Tortugas hotel.

The restaurant was busy, but we were still able to get a cozy table in a corner.  

The décor, as well as the other diners, had a European air.  Many of the guests appeared to be speaking French, or Dutch (we would discover the next day that the island had been taken over by Dutch travelers).  Men in khakis and pastel button ups, and women wearing flowy shoulder strap sun dresses, sat sipping glasses of wine at the white washed restaurant tables.We were still wearing our comfortable trekking- in- the- hot- weather- on- a- tour clothes and felt a bit under-dressed. 

We started off with mojitos. They were the best mojitos we have ever had. The problem most often with mojitos is that one ingredient, rum, mint, sugar, etc… usually over powers the others, but the mojitos we had that evening were perfectly balanced. Now every time we have a mojito we say, remember the mojitos we had at Mandarina?

Warm fresh baked rolls were set on our table, 

along with the tasty seared scallop appetizer we ordered.

For our entrees, I had the fish of the day served with a mango salsa and something that sounded strange, but turned out to be delicious, pineapple mashed potatoes.  

The pineapple tasted grilled, so it was not overly sweet. I wondered why I never had yummy pineapple mashed potatoes before. 

Shannon had the steak. He said that it was very good.

While we were eating our dinner a man entered the restaurant. He set down a little low to the ground chair, took out an instrument that we learned was a hang drum, and began to play.  He taped, taped, taped at the round drum, creating pretty, Zen like, soothing tones.  He played a few songs, accepted tips and/or sales of his cd, packed up his things, and left.  I wondered how one takes up hang drum playing.  Did he just make up the songs as he went, or was there actually music, and if so what does hang drum sheet music look like?

The next night we were walking through town and heard the graceful pleasing sound of the hang drum.  We followed the music like children following the Pied Piper and saw the hang drum guy in another restaurant.  We deduced that he must make the rounds each night playing at the various restaurants in town.  There were more questions to follow.  Did he live on the island? Was this a side gig, or did playing the hang drum at restaurants really pay the bills?  Is it a low stress job? How could I become a professional hang drum player? So many unanswered questions.

After our entrees, we were waffling on whether or not to get coffee with our desert, but after our French Canadian waiter informed us that in his opinion, they had the best coffee on the island, we were intrigued.  

The coffee was great, though I’m not sure any while- on- travels coffee will ever compare to our now defunct Panama Durand. 

The crème brulee we shared was good, but not overly exciting. 

It turned out to be our fanciest dinner of the trip. The mojitos were perfect, the food delicious, and the atmosphere elegant but not stuffy.  It was the cherry on top of an already spectacular day.

On the way back to the resort, we took a slow stroll along the beach, taking account of all of the wonderful experiences we had that day.  We stood on the beach and looked up at the star covered sky.We knew that it was time to go back to our room and go to bed, but it was difficult to close our eyes on, and say goodnight to the best day in Mexico.