My first real impression of San Diego involved a very muscular guy standing proudly on a roof deck containing loads of gym equipment.  He, of course, was not wearing a shirt and I think he may have even been flexing into a mirrored window. Then the buildings cleared out and I saw an entire block simply covered in purple flowers and the muscle man was quickly forgotten.  As the taxi drove up to the hotel, all I could hear were birds chirping and I spotted the most gorgeous hibiscous. Don’t these sun worshipping Californians know it is January? Though on a work trip, the months of work-stress and winter ickiness literally started melting away with the beads of sweat accumulating on my forehead.  If I hadn’t been with a carload of people I work with, I might have just started running through the parking lot with arms wide open singing “The Hills Are Alive” like Julie Andrews.  Instead, I walked calmly to my room, passed a large sign for an herb garden (making a mental note to check it …