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Published: February 20th 2008
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For the second time in a month, we landed in LAX and enjoyed the spirited company of the US customs agents. This time though, instead of taking a shuttle bus, we had arranged to pick up a rental car so that we could start our road trip. Having booked the cheapest economy option, we were told to go to the garage and choose anything from row 1. However, the only vehicles in row 1 were three minivans and a PT Cruiser that was just being driven away. There must be some mistake. We are in our mid-twenties. We like hip hop and wear DCs. There is no way we can be seen driving a minivan. After being told by the sullen attendant that there was no other option, we chose the lesser of three evils (the other two were beige, and well come on now, a beige minivan - my inner teenager would have keeled over and died) and we were now the proud renters of Big Red Bob.
Instead of paying the $12, Franny used her Daisy-the-cow eyelashes to secure us the GPS system for free. Ah, the wonders of being female. We quickly realised how glad we were
Take this photo - it'll look cool
Franny on Venice Beach - I don't think I took it right... to have satellites directing us where to go, as I think we would still be in LA now, trying to find our way to the hostel. Nevertheless, suitably guided as we were, we decided to go on an adventure, so off we went to Burger King to christen the car in the ‘way of the drive-thru’. Having wanted to visit Venice Boardwalk before we had gone to Mexico, we took Big Red Bob through the LA traffic and made it to the beach. The sun was setting on the surfers trying to catch a wave on the calm waters of the Pacific, and having tentatively tested the freezing temperature, we decided they were nuts, and went for a wander along the boardwalk. We passed Muscle Beach, which was unfortunately devoid of muscle due to the late hour, but there were plenty of cyclists, rollerbladers, stoned hippies playing guitar and other general freaks to keep us amused. Franny was incredibly impressed by the busker who had actually brought his piano out on to the sidewalk to perform, and gave him a few dollars for his effort. However, it was getting dark, and as entertaining as Venice Beach was during the day,
there seemed to be a more dangerous air to the place at night, so we drove to the hostel to prepare for our impending road trip.
Having only a short time in which to accomplish our trip, we set off early and followed the GPS directions to San Francisco, and managed it in about 6 hours. It was only after speaking to Franny’s Mum that we discovered that by taking the most direct route, we had actually missed out on one of the most beautiful drives in the world. Well, there was nothing we could do about it, so we parked the car in a garage and got settled into San Francisco.
The following day we woke up early and decided to go bike riding. The plan was to rent bikes and then ride over the Golden Gate Bridge and back. As we walked to the rental shop, we were glad we were not cycling in the rest of the city, because we had never seen such steep hills in an urban area: walking was difficult enough! Looking suitably geeky, we set off on our bikes (thankfully not on a tandem) and cycled along the shore path until
we got to the base of the bridge. During the short cycle, the infamous San Francisco fog descended upon the bridge so that it was completely obscured. We sat under the bridge to eat our jammy pieces, and sporadically jumped up to take photos when the fog cleared for a few moments to reveal the legendary red architecture. There were some quite large hills on the cycle up to the bridge, but aided by our well-renowned good health, the jammy pieces and of course, our indomitable spirit, we made it to the top and across the bridge. Unfortunately, it was like cycling through the ‘Exorcist’ fog and we could not see a damn thing as we crossed it, but on the other side we got a good view of San Francisco. Not wanting to pay for 3 hours rental, we cycled back to the shop in record time, while along the way Franny is adamant we passed Ben Affleck jogging in the other direction.
After dropping off the bikes, and still in possession of all of our teeth (apart from those lost on the previous bike ride), we went for a walk along the foreshore. We could not resist
a wee look in the shops before we went to book the trip to Alcatraz for the following day. On the walk home, we passed a hair salon, and having not had a hair cut in over three months, I figured this was a good a time as any. Franny got her hair done too and we were ever so happy until the fog descended again, and the moisture styled our hair akin to something out of an 80’s metal band.
Later on, we went out for dinner and we managed to sufficiently tame our hair to get in the door of the restaurant, where we actually had the best curry of our whole trip. We decided to join the hostel pub crawl, so in spite of stinking of curry and having ‘Monica’ hair, we put our best drinking feet forward and met our new friends for the night. After a suitable amount of social lubricant, we met some great people and trawled the bars of San Francisco until the very small hours. Somehow, Franny ended up in the basement of the hostel playing her guitar while some German guys rapped along about, frankly who knows what, it could
have been about potatoes for all she knew, as I believe her German is almost as good as her Spanish. Even though I had gone to bed slightly earlier, both of us felt extremely rough the following day, and we were glad we had had the foresight to book the latest possible trip to Alcatraz.
We were troopers though, and fortified by lunch in an unnecessarily noisy restaurant, we made it to the boat and set off for ‘The Rock’. The guided tour was amazing, and we both agreed it was the best we had experienced. You were given your own headset so the tour could be taken at your own pace, and you were guided around the whole building while being given descriptions by guards and prisoners of what the prison was like; about famous inmates and escape attempts; what the island had been used for prior to it being a prison, and why it was eventually closed down.
We took a tram back into town and had dinner in a 50’s style diner, which, in case you were wondering, is my new favorite thing: it is like being in ‘Grease’ except without the spontaneous eruptions into
song. By this point we had discovered two things so far in San Francisco (well, three if you count ‘do not chase red wine with sambuca’ but I suppose we knew that before but refused to pay attention): firstly, there are an inordinate amount of hot - as in super-hot - men in the city, all just walking about the streets being hot, it is wonderful to look at; and secondly, it is a brilliant place to shop. Quite unfortunately, we had no money, but we held our jaws closed as we wandered around store after store filled with gorgeous things - especially shoes. We consoled ourselves by going to see ‘Dan In Real Life’ at the cinema, which, if you get the chance to watch, you definitely should, as we loved it.
The next day we were to move on to the next city, so it was time to say goodbye to San Francisco. I think it is safe to say that we both loved it there, and I personally would love to live there, as it just had such an amazing vibe and so much to do. We did not have enough time to see half the
places that we had wanted to see, but it was time to move on to climates warmer - “and drier” yelled our massive hair, who collectively screamed in delight at the thought of being normal sized again. Jazz hands everyone, for we are heading to Vegas…
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