Extreme opposites in California

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March 12th 2006

Published: April 7th 2006

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Coffeecat

Yosemite

I looked out of the window as often as I could whilst on the bus and train journey from L.A. to Yosemite National Park. The landscape changes were extreme and I was leaving the city life behind me to embrace a bit of fresh air. Being on the road as a solo traveller again caused me to grip my pack with more caution than the past couple of weeks. Best to be safe right? There didn't seem to be any dodgy characters in sight, but you can never be too certain. When I finally arrived into the village in the valley, I brushed off my boots and tiptoed into a swish hotel to use their baggage storage facilities. I couldn't help giggling when I saw my duct taped pack sitting next to several polished Louis Vuitton cases. I may not have the look that appeals to everybody, but at least it adds character to everything everywhere!

It had snowed all morning and stormy skies still loomed above so my boots and Harrison Ford hat came in handy. I stomped through slushy puddles as I made my way toward the cliff bases surrounding me. It's hard to believe that just

Cruising with Andy

A convertible over Golden Gate with a looker from Oz...life is good

a few hours back I had been parading down Hollywood Boulevard not quite looking the part. Perhaps it's the Canadian in me that seems to come to life in the outdoors. I felt refreshed by everything I saw, but couldn't manage to see it all on foot so I jumped on a local bus. I was able to see the views that Ansel Adams caught on camera triggering the world to have a love affair with Yosemite's sheer cliffs. Half Dome and El Capitan must be on every local postcard, attracting more tourbuses to pull in and compete for space. I hadn't arrived at the peak season so I was able to pause and take it all in at any time. Ravens flew through the trees and deer meandered underneath them pausing to see what degree of threat my camera really was. The edges of the waterfalls froze like threatening daggers whilst a spray misted my face. This is definitely the kind of refreshment I needed.

I collected my pack from the hotel (I'm sure I heard a sigh of relief from the owner of the Louis Vuitton cases!) and began my journey out of the park again.

The Peaks of Yosemite

Yosemite National Park only offers camping spaces for the budget travellers, so returning to the outskirts was my only option. I was a bit apprehensive about staying at a hostel called 'The Bug', but figured there was a decent explanation. I traipsed up the hill and soon felt like I was back in girl guide camp as I caught sight of the cabins scattered within the trees. I ended up having a room to myself (it's been quite a while, simple pleasures!) but spent more time in the common area toasting my feet in front of the fire whilst reading a book. And then sleep caught up with me, after all, it had been a looong day.

The cloudy skies in the morning were rather uninspiring, so I opted for a day of domestics. Laundry and sorting through the entire contents of my bag took a lot longer than one would expect when looking at the size of my backpack, but I realized carrying around a 'to mend' bag slightly defeated the pupose of packing light. I'm always one to organize things, but hadn't quite embraced the chore of actually doing it. My day of sewing camera bags,

Break Out

Hoping the guards of Alcatraz were snoozing

patching trousers and discarding scraps of paper with email addresses was one of the most productive days on my trip so far. Out with the old and in with the new (patched up versions), 9 months into the trip. I was thorough, even when faced with the duct tape holding my bra together. Okay, I actually left that as is. I guess I am still a girl guide at heart.

I woke up earlier the next morning and embraced the blue skies with a smile. I jumped into the back of the hostel van, and joined a few others for a day of exploring. We strapped some snowshoes onto our feet and followed the trails into an area fit for a snow princess. It was bliss. As soon as my heart rate slowed down, I was able to hear snowflakes fall into the white blanket around my feet. The trees towering over us occasionally creaked, and drew our attentions to their own beauty. A few sequoia trees that had first taken root nearly 800 years ago, were identified by some some snow crusted information panels that I actually read; I can admit to skipping a few of the

Half Dome

The lads on the bus spoke of nipple dome although I still opt for it's true name, Half Dome

educational footnotes in my time! After a couple of hours we continued our expeditions to another area of the park called Badger's Pass. Some of our group enjoyed a few hot chocolates whilst others strapped into snowboards. I opted for a couple of cross country skiis and ended up having an afternoon to myself perfecting techniques I had learned as a child. I whisked along the tracks singing with my itunes and entertaining those that I bumped into around the corners. Snow showing up in the morning had been great, but this was definitely more of a rush. I thought of the trips to 100 Mile House with my dad and my first pair of skiis, followed by adventures in Quebec as a teenager complaining about frozen hands, and now here I am on my own, enjoying every moment of it. I guess the folks should get a few thanks for introducing me to such a refreshing sport. I returned to the hostel and was justifiably exhausted. I had all ready extended my time in Yosemite by a day so I started making plans for the next leg of the tour in the morning, to San Francisco.

I

Bridal Falls

met Andy at breakfast and ended up joining him on the drive to San Francisco. Who wouldn't take driving with a good looking Aussie in a convertable over a scheduled rail journey?! We talked about everything under the sun and before we knew it, had approached the city streets. Not being in a major rush, we decided to cruise over Golden Gate, and as the weather had finally welcomed us, the top came off (ahem...of the car). We toured through some of the residential areas so Andy could make a few architectural notes before we settled on a lunch in Sausalito. I felt like I should be eating sausages in tribute to the town name, but realized the stupidity of that wavelength and decided only to share it with you.

We then made our way back over to town and found the hostel located on the edge of Fisherman's Wharf. Having come from a former guide camp hostel in Yosemite, we now embraced the former army barracks within San Francisco's Fort Mason. I know hostelling may not be everybody, but there are certainly some interesting locations around. We chilled out for a few hours before hitting America's second

The Bug

Army bunker, scout camp and now a travellers hostel

biggest Chinatown for dinner.

The following day I strolled around the area most detested by San Franciscans as a result of it's touristy commercialism. As I'm a tourist, it suited me fine. The Fishermans Wharf offered yummy clam chowder served in a sourdough bread bowl of which I devoured with great contentment. I stared in amazement as members of the local boat club actually swam in the icy waters, with sea lions also popping their heads up to check out the surroundings. The piers were filled with shops with the touristy tat I'd heard of, so I bought a ticket over to the opposing island and embarked on a tour of America's most famous prison.

Alcatraz housed some of America's worst criminals, notably Chicago's gang lord Al Capone (aka Scarface), Machine Gun Kelly and the driver for Bonnie and Clyde. I wore a headset alongside 100 other tourists and strolled underneath the 3 tiers of cells. I laid on one of their uncomfortable beds, shut the door behind me in the solitary confinement and peered at the Golden Gate Bridge from one of the frosted windows in the cafeteria. The joint was definitely not something I

The Mountains of Yosemite

care to experience outside of a tour. The former guards that added a few facts and demonstrations for us were some of the most bizarre looking characters I have ever seen. And I can now confirm that I will certainly never make a career change into the penitentiary system.

I returned to the hostel for a short time as I had arranged to hit the town with another traveller that I had met in Arizona. Jen picked me up and we cruised over to the Marina area to check out a few bars. Bars are often the same anywhere you go, but the trends can certainly be different. What hit me in the San Fran clubs then? Nothing but my age, and I'm not that old!! The music that everyone was gettin down to, wasn't a tribute to the early 90's, but a re-mix. I guess it's true what the old folks have always said, in that everything returns at some point! After a few drinks and moves that didn't catch the eye of my Mr. Right, we took a short drive around town, including 'the world's most crooked street'. The corkscrew design was implemented in 1922 to

The debut of my Indiana Jones hat in the Ansel Adams landscape

accomodate cars on such a steep hill. Having become a tourist attraction is perhaps one of the most ridiculous things I have ever seen on my travels, although I'm sure the spring flowers on the boulevards are a sight to see. At the end of the night, tricky Jen had escaped the photo with Fiona as she had also done in Arizona! Cheeky monkey!

Early the next morning I joined fellow Canadian Michaela on a tour of areas I hadn't yet covered. We started as giddy tourists on a trolley filled with locals starting their weekend shopping. It was intriguing watching the operator manually work the levers holding the cable car on the steep hills. When we finally jumped off, we collected a fix at Starbucks and continued strolling along the roads telling life tales. We looked at a map every now and then, only to giggle at some of the neigbourhood names. I can assure you that England could certainly never name an area Nob Hill! And who comes up with a name like Tenderloin? It just makes me think of having a bar-b-que!

We walked in several circles and certainly appreciated the beautiful houses

Ravens and the cliff

and various views of the bay. When we ended up back at the hostel, I called another friend met along the travels (Austin, Texas) and arranged to hook up. Shan picked Michaela and I up and we ventured over to the final tour for the day, Haight Ashbury. Famed as a hippie hangout, the streets clung to tie dyes and specialty pipes as the areas' trademark. However, modernization has broken through even since my last visit to San Francisco, 14 years ago. Everything changes in time right? We discovered that the Ben and Jerry's was the best addition to the area , as I filled up on coffee coffee buzz buzz ice cream and whizzed through the remainder of the afternoon.

After walking and talking for another couple of hours, Shan, Michaela and I all went our separate ways. I boarded a train to Oregon whilst Shan hit the dancing floor and Michaela hit the campgrounds. It was a fabulous ending to my time in California and I was proud to have established so many new friends. But the journey must continue, and I'm looking forward to visiting another mate in Portland!

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