This Quarantine Life: How COVID-19 Changed San Diego

It's Memorial Day today and we've been staying at home for 11 weeks. I started taking photos from around my neighborhood (and sometimes beyond) to document what this time is like. I'll be updating this as I gather more photos as life changes.

Hella COVID-19

COVID-19, the new coronavirus, was associated with one of my organization's offices in the Bay Area in early March and, "out of an abundance of caution," the state chapter decided to close all offices. I had been working from home for a week already due to a cold and figured I might be home for the rest of the month. No big deal. I work from home 3-4 days a week anyway.

California recommended we keep our distance from anyone we didn't live with as much as possible. Don't go out unless you have to, shops were supposed to limit the people inside, and no gathering in large groups. The first couple of weeks were rainy in San Diego so people pretty much stayed inside anyway. Running was very enjoyable — streets and trails were empty and I had Balboa Park almost all to myself. I still went on my long runs, preparing for my favorite race at the end of March, the Hot Chocolate 15K.

Trail going through the cactus garden in Balboa Park - empty on a rainy day.

Balboa Park on a rainy day, making socially distant running easy.

30th Street in North Park - eerily empty even for a rainy day.

Then several other state chapters also closed their offices. Our bi-annual work week event (set for May, which at that time seemed far away) was cancelled. Then local and global events, small and large, and entire sports seasons were cancelled. That was surprising, but at the time we figured it was a financial decision. Then all restaurants and bars closed in California. It was a Sunday afternoon when we heard that news — they would close the next day.

Bottlecraft introduced safe shopping guidelines for picking up beer.

Pretty much immediately, I went to the bottle shop around the corner to stock up. I didn't know if they would also have to close but I wanted to get as much from them as possible, both for the variety and to support the local business. The shop employee (owner?) said they'd be open as long as possible and, since they weren't a bar or a restaurant, would probably be able to remain open (though their in-shop taps did close, as did the cheese shop in the back).

Coronavirus casualty: bringing my reusable mug to coffee shops.

I'd picked up a coffee habit during grad school, and my weekend treat was a mocha. The last one I got, when the shops were still open, had stopped accepting customer's reusable mugs. Though some coffee shops stayed open for to-go only, knowing every coffee would come with a non-recyclable plastic (or plastic coated) cup this was the end of my fancy coffees for the foreseeable future.

Husband dancing in the middle of the street on a Friday night. Our main intersection was closed due to construction but the streets were already empty.

The phrase "socially distant" was introduced. It sounded like a joke at first, like a silly phrase to get the point across. Like "click it or ticket" to get people to wear their seat belts. Man, did that phrase really turn into a whole movement. Everyone on social media was touting their abilities to go through a socially distant life while shaming those who ignored the rules.

Our last zoo visit before they closed due to the coronavirus. Still got a beer.

The zoo also announced they'd be closing with the restaurants and bars. Husband and I decided to go, one last time, and do our best to maintain distance. The zoo is all outside and walkways are quite spacious, so we did pretty well. We bypassed any area with a crowd and when a crowd did start to form near us we moved on. Husband and I had dinner that night at a latin-inspired restaurant a few blocks from our apartment. We ordered a drink, appetizers, and entrees, and the server gifted us tequila shots. The restaurant closed for good during quarantine, and that was the last we'll ever eat there.

Some retail stores closed early. Simply Local, here, put up signs.

Simply Local was one of the first stores to add encouraging signs: We will get through this together.

Things happened rather quickly after that. Or, I guess they stopped altogether. Suddenly the reason we moved to this apartment in this neighborhood — the bars, the restaurants, the shops, the social activity — didn't exist. Some shops closed completely while others attempted to conform to new regulations.

Thorn Street Brewery simply closed rather than try to work out pick ups.

Modern Times taphouse in North Park - closed.

Modern Times introduced distance beer purchases - only available if you ordered online ahead of time.

Bars could stay open for takeout only if they served food, some of which even also offered alcohol to-go. Some bars that didn't serve food also offered alcohol to-go: breweries sold cans, bottles, crowlers, and new growlers, while some regular bars canned and sold whatever beer they had in kegs. Honestly, otherwise it would have just gone bad and been dumped, and plenty of people were happy to get discounted beer from their favorite local bar. Husband and I even got a Bloody Mary from a breakfast place to-go once because why not?

Breakfast Republic celebrating the small wins - getting out of bed.

What brunch looks like in the times of coronavirus. Eggs in a box, coffee in a can, and a pre-made Bloody Mary in a plastic cup.

"We are open for take out" signs as part of a Stand Behind North Park campaign to support local restaurants.

"Thank you for your support San Diego" sign in front of Crazee Burger.

"Eat here! Or we both starve." Sign in front of Encontro.

"Take out welcomed" sign on the door of Poke One 'n Half.

Where to stand markers became common pretty much everywhere.

"Social distance saves lives" and "Keep calm and keep your distance" signs at a pizza place.

It was a bummer when our St. Patrick's day celebrations had to be virtual. A few of the bars had just put up their Guinness bunting days before closures were announced. (Some of them are still up.) I joked to our friends, over Zoom, that if we had to also spend Cinco de Mayo at home we would break into the fancy tequila we got as a wedding gift. (Spoiler alert: we did.)

Zoom gatherings became regular, and normal. My yoga studio (along with all yoga, pilates, cycling studios and regular gyms) closed and Zoom yoga replaced in-person classes.

Yoga at home is not ideal. Turns out cats love yoga mats.

Among all the cancellations was my favorite race. This year I was running with a friend so I was double bummed. The Hot Chocolate Race is the most fun I've had at an organized race and I was so excited for my friend to experience it this year. So when it was cancelled two weeks before the race date, I decided to run it anyway. After all, I'd already trained for it.

Pre-race selfie, one of us is not as excited.

My race planning skills turned out to be pretty fantastic. Beautiful daisies along the route.

A coyote! Just to the right of the white sign.

Part of my course went through Balboa Park, so I detoured through the cactus garden.

Balboa Park in the early morning.

My favorite bridge in San Diego, on Quince Street.

The coolest bridge in San Diego, Spruce Street Suspension Bridge.

I designed a new course that went along part of the real course and was exactly 9.3 miles from door to door of my friend's house. Then I baked double chocolate chip cookies, packaged up water and extra chocolate chips, and recruited husband as our race support.

Cutest race support I've ever seen!

Tiny bowls of chocolate chips to give us a sugar hit every few miles.

You can't hear the music blasting from the car radio keeping everyone's energy up.

He drove ahead to pre-planned stop locations every 2-3 miles, blasted music from his car, and gave us tiny bowls of chocolate chips with our water. Being who he is, he also took "official race photos".

Me, being who I am, decided to screenshot the race photos rather than "buy" them.

My finish line photo. Husband came up with the race name: Social D 15K.

Neighbors have been doing what they can to bring an uplifting message to others. Sidewalk chalk art usually increases in the summer but it exploded in April and May.

Best way out is through.

Hang in there!

Various uplifting messages in chalk.

Be kind, better days ahead.

You are loved.

 

I know it's hard now but it will get better. All you need is love.

Other homes took the call to be positive a little further. Some let us know in a more permanent way that things will get better.

Leaving holiday decorations up longer than usual. The sign says "Hello friends! My name is Happy Bappy!!! I am here to bring joy to all my neighbors. We can do this together!"

 

A food donation box near a closed park. "Take what you need, leave what you can. #WeAreInThisTogether People helping people"

Keep calm and carry on.

"And have fun." I'm not sure this is coronavirus-related...

"We'll get through it together" and "This is tough but so are you."

Others reminded us of our new social norms and that some things that we might think of as restrictions are actually there to help our neighbors and those more vulnerable than us. Masks became mandatory in public as of May 1st — especially in an enclosed area like grocery stores and to pick up take out —but also anytime you're out and are unable to maintain six feet between you and others.

This sign says "We can do it!! Wear your mask San Diego" using a variation of Rosie the Riveter wearing a mask.

Grocery stores and restaurants took this seriously and posted signs reminding customers that they would not be allowed in without a mask. Some bitched and moaned about this but employees (some of whom were undoubtedly not excited about working an at-risk job) didn't care. If you don't want to wear a mask you must not want groceries or food that bad.

Trader Joe's introduced new shopping rules and staffed an employee out front to check for masks.

My most negative grocery experiences were in Barons. It was difficult to introduce order in the store layout and certain customers loudly balked at the new lines.

Starting even in February certain items were hard to find. When we just happened to run out of rubbing alcohol (terrible timing, since a bottle lasts years), husband had to learn when the CVS by us was getting a shipment, go there at that time, and wait three hours while they unloaded the truck to buy a single bottle.

We've also paid closer attention to our toilet paper supply than we ever have, buying well before we need to when we can just in case it becomes hard to find again. It got so bad that many places were selling individual rolls of toilet paper, and Good Samaritans were offering up individual rolls to those in need online. Seeing the artificial shortage of many important items was really discouraging for a few weeks. As of May 25, I still haven't been able to find disinfecting wipes in any store or online (another item I use rarely but would be pretty handy right now).

Individual rolls of toilet paper rather than packs.

Stores were limiting the number of high demand items per customer but some of the limits were barely even limits. Like Ralph's limited each customer to three packs of toilet paper. Seriously, who needs multiple 12-packs of toilet paper? We were encouraged to stock up on what we'd need for the next two weeks and if people really needed 36 rolls of toilet paper for a two-week period they need to see a doctor.

"Due to high demand... we will be limiting the quantity of dry goods to 8 of the same item per guest." Super helpful, Target.

"Due to high demand... we will be limiting the quantities of toilet paper... to 1 each per guest." Still can't keep up with some people causing false scarcities for everyone else.

Other businesses made changes, too, especially churches. Mass gatherings were banned, which included religious gatherings. Smart, since I remember how much communal touching there is in churches. Many adapted.

One church offering drive-through confessions.

"Praying for our community. God is still with us."

"He is risen" sign. The church stoop is still a place where a homeless man can sleep. I felt weird taking this photo but also wondered what the churches are doing for the most vulnerable right now.

"Call for phone reading" of a local psychic. Obvious joke about predicting the pandemic.

One thing hasn't changed, at least not for husband and I. And that's take-out from our regular places. Fortunately, our favorite restaurants stayed open so we didn't have to alter our habits too much. Friday night Thai food wasn't interrupted, and neither was our tradition of almost-weekly pho.

Best Thai food in San Diego as fas are we're concerned.

Supporting our local restaurants has always been important to us. As regulars at these places, we've gotten to know the owners and staff. We're kind of friends with the owner of our favorite Thai place (who regularly gives us small gifts, such as treats from his vacations and even comped our meal when we got take out after our wedding) and want to do what we can to make sure he stays in business. We also have gotten to know the husband and wife owners of the Vietnamese restaurant we get pho from, who scaled back their business to just themselves to stay afloat. About twice a month we drive to La Mesa for a shrimp burrito from a taco stand there, which we were regulars at when husband lived there.

Pad see ew and a Thai face mask!

I'll keep updating this with more photos, as they come, especially as we ease back into whatever normal life looks like in the coming weeks and months.

UPDATE: September 23, 2020

It's been six months since lockdown started. I had an emotional break the other night. Everything had built up over the course of ten-ish days and I just needed to cry it out. The boiling point was Ruth Bader Ginsburg passing away. I just... she's been in and out of the hospital like every other month but with only a few weeks to the election I figured we were safe. It's hard to believe how much is riding on this election. What will four more years of this administration look like, even with a Democratic Senate? The attacks on the environment, the blatant support of white supremacy, the outright lies about every topic imaginable, not to mention the 200,000+ Americans who have died from COVID-19. It's overwhelming. I broke down.

Since this was originally published in May, San Diego has had multiple waves of reopening despite never making it out of the code red alert level. My best friend is back teaching and has already had to quarantine twice. Restaurants have built outdoor seating on the sidewalks and in the streets, so even walking around the neighborhood is crowded and stressful. We moved here last year excited to be closer to the bars and restaurants that we love going to, but now getting takeout is awkward and uncomfortable. We're regulars at a few places and the owners occasionally ask us when we'll be eating in. Or drinking in, at our regular brewery.

No mask = no beer at Second Chance Brewery

And we want to, very badly. Or I do, at least. The husband doesn't mind as much. I miss sushi the most, and drinking in breweries. Summer has been really hard with no sushi and no breweries. We have beautiful patios and my favorite way to spend a Sunday is to get breakfast (though my favorite place no longer exists) then have a couple beers on one of those patios.

Six months married, had beers at the park.

One good thing is that the husband is working again. After five months of forced unemployment, he opened back up (in his own studio!) in August. It was good timing, too, since unemployment payments ended in August - it would have been really tough if he couldn't work. Plus he's so much happier and fulfilled, especially because opening back up meant he can work on his side project again. And it's nice for me to have a couple of hours to myself every so often. When we said "I do" we meant forever, just not 24/7 forever.