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Hilly
Some of the streets were so steep that you could barely walk up them It felt good to get back to the structured lifestyle of the USA after recharging our batteries in Belize. Although we didn't get out of the airport until gone midnight, we had our hire car ready and waiting for us there and we managed to find our hostel without too much trouble.
My first worrying San Fran incident came very early in our stay. After checking in I had to park the car about half a mile from the hostel and walk through a dark, quiet residential estate to get back. On the walk back a large cat that looked pregnant walked out into the path about fifteen feet in front of me. I tried to get its attention ("here pussy pussy") only for it to stop dead and slowly turn towards me. It was then that I saw the big stripy tail, pointy face and saucer eyes. Racoon! We had a bit of a stand off situation and after seeing that it wasn't going to run I bottled it and turned around to find another route home!
The next morning we went out exploring. We knew that the hostel was close to the Bay, but we weren't prepared
for the view that we got when we walked onto the path that ran along the back of it; we were greeted with a stunning panorama of the Golden Gate bridge, Alcatraz and the Bay Bridge and harbour. We were on foot, so we walked along Fisherman's Wharf, which was nice but geared up for tourists, and then up some killer hills to the Coit Tower. It was built to commemorate the life of bla bla bla boring... There are photos here so you can see for yourself.
We got the trolleycar into town after lunch and then walked to the SBC Ballpark, home to the San Francisco Giants. We'd been told that Barry Bonds (who plays for them) was close to catching Babe Ruth's all time home runs record, so we were a bit disappointed when we found out that he'd been out injured for ages and still wasn't fit. We only saw one home run in three hours of play, and although SF scored it, they still lost 9-3. Boo. The highlight of the evening was the fireworks display after the game, which was the most spectacular I've ever seen. It was somewhat marred by the euro
trance and mushy power ballads that they chose to blast out over the top of it all! It was SO American.
We ate chips (fries) with garlic and parsley during the game as everybody seemed to be eating them, but I reckon they saw us coming because I must have had a whole
bulb of garlic on mine. Now, being a frenchman I pride myself on being able to wolf down copius amounts of garlic, but even this was too much. You'd have thought that my breath would have meant that people kept their distance. Not so:
Second worrying incident in San Fran - the trolleycar home. The three of us were sitting down waiting for it when an American guy of about 40 came and sat next to me and said "Wow, you've got a map". I asked if he wanted directions and he said "No, I just think it's cool that you've got a map". I turned away from him (freak!) and started chatting to Arthur when he tapped me on the shoulder and said "I hate riding the trolleycar in men's clothing"!!!!!!! I told him that he was a weirdo and he must have agreed
Alcatraz Island
From the Coit Tower because he had no reply and he left us alone after that. Maybe he got a whiff of the garlic and that's what scared him off!
We visited the former prison of Alcatraz on the following day. I paid a bit more for the audio tour headphones and the interviews with old inmates helped to bring the harsh reality and isolation of the prison to life. The most interesting story was how on some New Years Eves the inmates could hear laughing and partying from their cells as there were boats out in the bay full of people enjoying their freedom. I found the place to be quite similar to what I had expected, although the masses of tourists detracted from the experience a little. Nonetheless, I'm glad that I went. Crime doesn't pay, children.
We drove across the Golden Gate Bridge in the afternoon and North into Wine Country. If you've seen one vineyard then you've seen them all - I couldn't even partake in the joys of wine tasting as I was the designated driver! When we got back into SF we took a slight detour in order to drive down Lombard Street, the site of
many a postcard picture. I recognised it, although I always thought it was in France? The 'beauty' of it was a little lost on me - my mind was more geared towards which car could get from top to bottom the quickest! I'd hate to live there as there was a constant flow of tourists climbing walls and standing in the road to take photos.
I think we had a quiet night that night as the following day was the start of our journey South, but more on that in the next blog.
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