San Francisco, a city of admosphere and wonder.

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San Francisco, 14-11-2002.

My free camping place last night was under a massive cycamore tree whose branches were hanging all the way to the ground.

I could have even survived a hurricane under that enormous wonder of creation.

It's not far anymore to San Francisco but despite the city's close proximity I cycle through a remarkably desolate country, an undeveloped coastal stretch of rocks and the occasional beach. Beaches with a wild and unpredictable surf rolling in.

Some of these beaches are inhabited by seal while other are the property of sun tanned surfers, mostly young people who muscular bodies show off a healthy life style.

Blond girls that could have walked right out of Baywatch discussing among themselves the surfing prowess of their boy-friends who are out at sea riding the waves.

Every so often I cycle past fields full with pumpkins, pumpkins must be the major crop around here.

I have a stop in Pacifica for breakfast, just a small sea side city given over completely to the surfing industry as the many surf shops tell me.

Leaving Pacifica ist is done and over with my peace. The urban sprawl of San Francisco starts in earnest and I have to watch out for the heavy traffic while cycling through neighborhoods with two storey houses, a big garden in the front guarded by sleepy dogs and the inevitable morning's newspaper still lying on the porch.

San Francisco, a city full with admosphere and wonder, a place I've heard so much about, international and laid back.

I pay 17 bucks for a bed in a dormitory on Market Street, in the heart of the city, and I can even park my bike inside the room overnight.

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Photos

Dolfin..
out at sea.

Dolfins and surfers...
out at sea.