Welcome back, fellow wanderlusters!
Buckle up, because my Return to L.A. Chronicles is starting to heat up, and it ain’t because of the Cali sun.
Grab your favorite shades and let’s hit the 405!
A Traveler’s Red Card to Overpriced Beds
So, how did I end up in Dana Point, California, and Capistrano Beach — locations midway between Los Angeles and San Diego?
Well, remember this L.A. Adventure is taking place during World Cup 2026.
During the planning and research phase, I scoured every spot within a 30-mile radius of LAX, which served as my go-to reference point. Nothing was under $500 a night. Not even the places where the only amenity was a flickering fluorescent bulb and a questionable air freshener.
There were even more than your fair share of ‘roach motels’ demanding $500 or more a night.
Plot twist, even they were fully booked.
Apparently, during the World Cup, even a place with a “vintage” 1950s carpet and a mysterious stain or two can call itself a luxury stay.
To add insult to injury, every hotel was charging extra for parking, even the hotels that didn’t actually have their own parking lots.
Just when I was about to wave my white flag and book a hotel in Burbank at the ‘bargain’ price of $300 a night (cue the tiny violin), my inbox pinged like a message from the travel gods.
It was from Hilton Vacation Club Riviera Beach & Shores in Capistrano Beach.
Thanks to my secret weapon (my friends call it a timeshare), the resort had a room with my name on it for the whole trip.
Yes, I did a little happy dance, though it looked more like my “I have to go to the bathroom” dance. 🤣
Best bit: because it’s part of my club, I cashed in some points and watched my lodging budget magically reappear in my trip fund.
That’s more cash for food, souvenirs, or, let’s be real, an extra day of adventures.
Pro tip: Always check your loyalty programs and points, even if you think you don’t have enough. Sometimes there’s an off-season deal or a hidden gem just waiting for you!
Suite Dreams & Ocean Scenes
I rolled up to the Hilton Vacation Club Riviera Beach & Shores in Capistrano Beach.
This spot is classic SoCal: palm trees showing off, ocean breeze doing its best hair-tousle, and sunsets so jaw-dropping you’ll wonder why you ever bothered with other coastlines.
And get this: my reservation came with free parking. No shelling out cash to park on a patch of asphalt
I snagged a 2-bedroom (1 king, 2 twins) apartment. Plenty of space for a crew, or just for me to live out my full ‘main character’ energy.
Did I score an ocean view? Not this time.
My balcony faced a majestic mountain, which I decided to call ‘Serenity Hill’ (sounds fancier, right?).
The apartment layout had me living my best suite life: a primary bathroom with a solid shower, a guest bathroom for backup, and a living area big enough for an impromptu dance party or a proper Amazon Prime binge.
There’s a queen sofa bed and a balcony for all your ‘morning coffee with a side of nature’ moments.
The kitchen? Total MVP. Two-burner stovetop, microwave that moonlights as a convection oven (yes, really), dishwasher, and all the basic utensils.
No full oven, so if you’re planning on baking a birthday cake or roasting a turkey, you might want to phone a friend.
Now, for real talk: the carpet. I get it, hotels love them, but I’m convinced it’s time to Marie Kondo these relics, along with all their stories of guests past.
My apartment slept six, so there’s plenty of room for my travel squad. If you’re rolling solo (like me), you can claim every bed and declare yourself king (or queen) of the suite.
Perfect for a ‘Have Passport, Will Travel’ slumber party or a ‘solo staycation with style.’
(Sales) Pitch Perfectly Off-Key
By staying at my vacation club resort, I was bombarded with requests to attend an “ownership brief.”
Since I had no activities planned for the day, I decided to listen to the spiel.
Plus only a rookie traveler would pass up free breakfast, a $250 Visa gift card and 90,000 Hilton Honors points for a 60-minute pitch.
And you best believe I made sure to get their promises written down and agreed to on paper before signing up.
After all, if there’s one universal travel truth, it’s this: never trust anything a salesperson says unless it’s written down and signed in ink — preferably twice, with witnesses and maybe a notary.
The sales team rolled out the red carpet and started serenading me with dreams of upgrades, global getaways, and family fiestas.
I was shown the door thirty minutes later when it was clear I wasn’t interested in spending $100,000 for an upgraded membership that came with only a few additional perks.
Oh well. I wiped my imaginary tears away with the $250 Visa gift card.
With my gift card, I scored
- Three dinners at overpriced seafood restaurants on the beach
- Two new pairs of Skechers
- Groceries for my six-day stay at the resort
- A few souvenirs and trinkets for my co-workers
- Three full tanks of gas for the rental car, including the final one before turn-in.
Oh, and I still have $4 to spend. Any suggestions? 🤣🤣
Burger, She Wrote
I missed In-N-Out so much that my co-workers developed a sixth sense for my burger daydreams.
They turned synchronized eye rolls into an Olympic sport every time I launched into another ode to fresh-off-the-grill patties and pillowy buns.
So when I finally touched down in L.A., I could practically taste those burgers.
One of my co-workers even texted to ask if I’d checked off my In-N-Out craving yet, just so she’d have enough time to order industrial-grade noise-canceling headphones in time for my inevitable post-burger gloating. 🤣
The first chance I got, I drove to the nearest In-N-Out to the resort. I didn’t use the drive-thru line, certain I’d beat the wait by heading inside.
Turns out, everyone else had the same idea. But after six years apart, what’s another twenty minutes for an In-N-Out burger?
I ordered a single, no cheese (lactose intolerance club), and watched as the crew pressed fresh patties onto the grill, the air thick with the scent of beef and (non-grilled) onions.
My number was finally called. I grabbed my paper bag, ducked out, and made my way back to the resort, anticipation buzzing.
Back at the apartment, I grabbed a plate because this meal was worthy of a Michelin-star fine-dining restaurant experience, unwrapped my burger and sat at the table. I queued up a documentary about The Tudors on BritBox and inhaled the delicious aroma.
That first bite: juicy beef, crisp lettuce, crunch onion, and fresh tomato, soaking into a pillowy bun, was pure L.A. nostalgia.
After six years, every mouthful was worth the wait.
Phone Upgrade Without the Breakup
After waking from my burger coma, I knew it was time to execute my mission, and the sole reason for my return to L.A.
I wasn’t looking to ghost my phone provider. I just wanted to give my ancient device (it was over 15 years old) the retirement party it deserved and upgrade to something with a little more sparkle.
Apparently, wanting a new phone without a side of complicated contracts or plan ‘upgrades’ is now a revolutionary act.
Let’s be real: picking a phone in 2026 is about as simple as splitting the atom, especially when the last time you upgraded, TikTok didn’t exist and “selfie” wasn’t in the dictionary.
Every time I set foot in a Walmart, Target, or Best Buy, I was stalked by sales reps with promises to “slash my bill” and give me “unlimited data for pennies.”
It felt less like shopping and more like speed dating, except all my dates kept trying to convince me to move in after the first date.
Thankfully, I stumbled upon a salesperson who listened to what I wanted and didn’t try to sell me something I didn’t need.
With his help, I found a phone that matched my needs without having to take out a second mortgage.
With my new phone, I performed wizard-level account transfers in nanoseconds (okay, really 90 minutes), moving my digital life to its new home.
I waltzed out of the store with a brand-new phone and my bank account still intact.
Mission accomplished.
No breakups, no drama, no new contract. It’s just me, my new phone, and the thrill of knowing I survived the gauntlet that is modern phone shopping.
But upgrading my phone was the sole reason I’d returned to L.A.
I know, I know. Others come to L.A. for fame, fortune, or at least a selfie with a celebrity.
Me? I just wanted a device that could actually hold a charge past lunchtime.
With my mission accomplished, what do I do now?
Bear With Me: The Adventure Isn’t Over, It’s Just Paw-sed
If you think the action stops with a shiny new phone, you’re in for a wild ride.
Next up, I explore more of Dana Point, strut through the neon wonderland that is Universal CityWalk, and get treated like an Empress at Build-A-Bear.
And yes, there was a coronation and possibly a bear-sized crown involved.
Come back for tales of L.A. shenanigans, theme park glory, and my unexpected rise to Build-A-Bear royalty.
Trust me, you won’t want to miss what happens when this adventurer swaps phone upgrades for pure, unfiltered adventure.
Until next time…
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