Joe, a buddy of mine recently visited for a few days. Company plus glutenous food equals difficult time. The first day we went to Point Loma Seafoods for lunch. Point Loma Seafoods is a crazy and popular fish market in San Diego. Ordering is chaotic. The food deep fried, but delicious. Joe and I went for a hike later that day. My joints, achy, my energy non-existent, my bathroom trips frequent.
Later, we went to Old Town, a living park that mimics early San Diego. We tasted wine. My stomach soured.
We went to the city of Avalon on Catalina, an island off the coast of Los Angeles. We ate seafood and bread. I became nauseated. We listened to a mariachi band at a wedding on our way to Hermit Gulch Campground. They sang "Hey Hey Hey" over and over. We slept underneath the stars. We hiked up the firebreak. We ate cheeseburgers while watching the world cup. We snorkeled. We laid on the beach. I got hot. I got nauseated. I got dizzy. My stomach tensed up, felt as if someone had tied it in a knot and put a clamp on it. I could not eat dinner. My back ached. We went on a flying fish tour. We walked back to the campsite and slept.
We went back to the mainland. I tried to eat gluten-free. We went to the Padres Game and pre-game tour. I was excited to try the new gluten-free stand. But during the pre-game tour, we saw a food service worker heating a burrito on the gluten-free grill. Inadequate food service, as is common. No gluten-free for me.
Joe left. My stomach calmed even though my mind and body remained tired.
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