Frisco fever

We return to fill in the gaps of our previous brief visits to peninsula city of San Francisco. Frisco is again good to us with the weather and for the next six days its sun and blue skies all the way. T-shirt weather at the beginning of February, excellent.
First stop is Fisherman's Wharf and Pier 39. It feels like a totally different place around here and is bit more tacky than I expected but it's not unpleasant. Fish-based food galore and shops selling varieties of rubbish along the pier. Decent views over the bay can be had from the pier and of the seal population that have moved in since 1990. The noisy seals have increased over the years due to the sheltered location from the bay and now many laze about year round on the floating docks.
We walk and a tramp approaches, 'Hey man, I've been lazing about in the sun all day so I'm a bit behind, can you spare any change?'. As if. Later I see him in a 7-11 buying booze, what a life!
We move around in motels to keep the costs down and end up in a slightly dodgy area for 2 nights. This is where we see another side of San Francisco. I'd heard that it was notorious for homeless but hadn't really seen too many until now. Walking along Market Street was like entering into a third world country. It was all a bit odd, especially as the flash Museum of Modern Art is located here amongst the vagrants.

The museum is funky looking from inside and has all the major artists works from the last hundred years or so from Warhol to Pollock to Picasso and Dali. Another lucky free entry day for us saves us the whopping $13 fee.
We'd already been to another free museum day that morning at the Legion of Honor with plenty of classic works and great views across the bay and of that bridge.
After leaving the Museum of Modern Art we take a look around the nearby grand buildings and realise that the United Nations are not only based here but were formed here. Funny that as there are scores of homeless scattered around on the floor and staggering around randomly shouting. The United Nations right on the edge of slumsville USA, what a joke.


More free stuff the next day at the Zoo. I don't like Zoos but as this was free and the fairly recent incident of a tiger attacking and killing someone intrigued my morbid side I had to have a look. The tiger and lion closure was typically shut anyway. The whole thing was dull and it seemed like there were more animals walking around throwing Doritos and humongous fizzy drinks down their necks than actually in the cages.
As we enter the Zoo a guy asks, 'How much would you pay for a hammer?'. 'I don't want a hammer.' 'Yeah, but how much would you pay for one? Where are you from?'. I said England and he just looked at me oddly and carried on walking. I can't even begin to understand what is going on in this country.


Next it was time to get to one of America's most infamous landmarks, Alcatraz. At least no tramps will have made their way across here. Although people did escape from this island prison no-one was ever proved to have made the swim across the frigid bay alive. The ferry ride across shows off both the excellent bridges and the city itself. The island is fairly small but the audio tour around is great stuff and you get to nosey in the tiny cells and see the living conditions of the place.

The most famous inmates here were the Bird Man of Alcatraz and Al Capone. Many high profile criminals were sent here, probably to set an example.
Before becoming a prison it was a fort to keep invaders coming into the bay and attacking and taking over San Francisco. This never happened but one such invasion in the 70's did take place. Some members of the native American population got together to try and reclaim their land back after boating out to the island as at this point it was unused after the prison had officially shut. This lasted until the Federal Government stepped in and cleared them off. The decision was then made to try and preserve the place and make a museum out of it.
Back to land and another landmark of San Francisco, the cable cars. Years ago passenger carts were pulled up the steep hills by horse. You soon realise walking around the place how steep these streets can be. A British bloke witnessed a bad crash when horses slipped whilst struggling with a cart up Clay Hill. He devised a system of pulleys and cables that would take people up the hill without the need for horses. This system grew and grew but was mostly destroyed in one of the large earthquakes that affects San Francisco from time to time. This one was on a massive scale and ruptured gas pipes that started fires that practically burnt the city to the ground. But gold is up in them there hills and the place was rebuilt back to it's glorious self. The cable cars were nearly scrapped altogether in favour of an improved government transport scheme. The people rallied together and saved the cable cars and now they're instilled in all that is Frisco and all that is tourism in the city. We have a look in the cable car museum which shows the running cables underground which the cars grab onto to get pulled around the city. It's a basic system but it works well.
Then we relocate to Lombard Street and immediately into a more upmarket area. The adjacent streets are bustling with boutiques, bars and restaurants. It's a decent place to stroll and thankfully it's also tramp free.
We take in another free but decidedly crap museum of rubbish science and tricks of the eye. However, it's set in the grounds of the great looking Palace of Fine Arts.

A superb round building with European designs, a surrounding lake and up-scale housing.
Then it's to the largest urban park in the US, the Golden Gate Park. It's immense and has many different areas. We walk to the beach whilst hordes of runners and cyclists pant their way past. The beach is busy with kite fliers and the odd surfer hitting the harsh looking waves. It's still a 20 minute or so drive from the city centre but a decent place to get away from it all.
As the city is split into many districts we try and see what we can of most of them. The Mission District is one we had to visit due to it's Mexican flavour. Basically California was under Spanish rule until Mexico won independence and took over. After hordes of American settlers began pouring into the area the Mexicans could do little to stop the steam rolling colonisation of North America. It was then agreed by Mexico to be handed to the USA. Unfortunately for Mexico gold was found soon after, bummer. Anyway, the Mission District is named so as it homes the oldest building in Frisco, Mission Delores. We visit here at night to check out some of the night-life and a free gig event. We wait over an hour for a bus again reaffirming my hatred for public transport. I did also think that if this were Peru I would've been on a bus to my destination at least 55 minutes ago. It turns out that Mission is a bit gritty. Rubbish is strewn across the streets and haggard individuals pushing shopping trolleys filled with belongings isn't uncommon. The gig itself was great and once the venue filled up it became a decent night. I get talking to some random American and we get invited back to a house warming party for a Welsh girl and friends after quaffing an excellent giant burrito in a Mexican place where it was easier to ask in Spanish for what I wanted rather than Lancastrian English.
We go along and have a nosey around the good sized San Francisco Victorian-style home and feel a bit jealous. Decent people but not exactly party animals.
We walk the near empty streets at 4 in the morning in a rush to catch the late night bus. Along the way we get accosted by an insane black woman/man/thing who walks with us at pace for quite some time. She/he/it rants on for a while and looks crazily around with huge white eyes and oversized head. Now and again she/he/it sticks out her tongue in my direction and gives me the nod. 'Excellent' I thought. 'I'm getting the come-on from what could well be a creature from some disgusting horror film or student comedy show.' Then it starts to sing as we walk, badly. As we wait for the bus the nutter goes behind the shelter and pisses on the street. Oh the joy. Thankfully we give he/she/it the slip on the bus. A strange way to end our San Francisco experience but it still didn't manage to dampen my thoughts of this great city. Homelessness is a problem but it's America's problem not just Frisco. This place has grit, chic, natural beauty and man-made excellence. It's got a decent history, as one of America's oldest cities, and it's got the atmosphere and night-life any decent city should. Some areas are rough around the edges but others shine with flashiness and a modern cosmopolitan vibe. One thing remains a constant, those great looking Victorian and European style houses that go on for the length and breadth of the peninsula.
Although in total it's a large place most of it is very walkable, fairly rare in America, and sometimes the transport system works well to get you to the many different colourful districts. Could I live here? Probably, but not for too long. Is it one of the best cities of our trip? Definitely.
As we drive East from the city I suddenly realise we missed out on the most touristy thing of all. Riding on a cable car. Well I suppose that's at least one excuse to go back.

The Pacific claims another victim

The rain continues as we cross into California and the Redwood Forest. A narrow bumpy scenic drive was recommended and it took in-between giant towering Redwood trees. That night a storm rages outside and the rain doesn’t stop until morning. We awake to clear blue skies and the California sun once again.

At breakfast, well that’s what they called it at the motel but I tend to disagree, three Canadian girls tell us about their misfortune in hitting rocks the previous night and popping three tyres. It was dark and the storm was in full swing along the craggy coast. Landslides and rockfalls are very common.

Again we’re in Crescent City, I think named so due to its long crescent shaped beach. As we pass the beach I notice a large smooth rock like shape that seems to be attracting a bit of attention. We pull in and take a look. It turns out to be a large sperm whale lying dead on the sand. I’m not sure what happened but it may have been there as a result of the previous night’s storm. A fin, its eye and some innards had been cut out and blood seeped back into the sea. There was a bit of a whiff in the air as the sun warmed up the area. It was a pretty horrible sight.

Through the Redwood National Park we check out humongous trees that grow tall and wide and red. These are the biggest redwoods in the world. Along Highway 1 winding its way through trees wider than the car we continue south trying to beat the dropping sun before the dark makes it tricky to negotiate, there are no lights out here.

It would have to be a road with the most hairpin bends and undulating blind corners I’ve ever driven. Great looking but it takes forever to drive 35 miles to the small coastal town of Fort Bragg. We pay more than we’d like for a room and then a pizza but find $20 on the floor so all is good with the world.

Another ‘continental’ breakfast starts the day. I’m not sure what continent has a breakfast consisting of only muffins, pastries and coffee. Oh yes I do, North America.

The road continues to wind up down and all around whilst keeping a close distance to the ocean. We pass briefly through the colourful town of Eureka along the way. It has many painted wooden houses with various spires and ornate decorations as well as the odd street mural too. And a great name. ‘Where are you from?’, ‘I live in Eureka!!’ Sounds good I thought.

It takes a few hours to cover the 130 odd miles to our destination but we get there in the mid-afternoon sunshine. It’s as great looking as ever as we pass over that famous reddish bridge across bright blue water looking to our left at the white hilled city for the third time on this trip. San Francisco we’re here again. This time we’re staying to see it properly, warts and all.

California dreaming

Of the 3 states that line the west coast of America California is the biggest. It was once part of Mexico, much like other parts of the US, until the Spanish American war. Which is why there are soo many place names that are Spanish. Los Angeles, 'The Angels', Santa Rosa, 'Saint Rose'. Typically the names are mainly catholic but they sound good either way.
California is not just a hot beach and cool city state. It's a diverse as they come, deserts, snowy mountains and blue lakes share the state with the long beaches and rolling hills. It's also home to an incredibly precarious position of the San Andreas fault which is where two tectonic plates meet and can cause devastating earthquakes.
It's on that coast we roll back up toward San Francisco with Si in toe. We stop at similar places along the way, Santa Barbera for a pier walk, further up to the Seal Colony and through Carmel(although the rain is pouring this time round). We pass some rugged coastline along the sea hugging road for miles and miles.
After a couple of days we arrive by night back amongst the hills of San Francisco.
The streets look as good as ever as we drive behind an old style tram.
We eat curry, classic, before heading to the beatnik bar of Vesuvio for drinks amongst the American 60's posters and stained glass windows. A guy has lost his umbrella, it cost him $130! A drunk girl falls about the bar banging into people before moving behind the bar to start her shift. Two guys argue over Jimi Hendrix. Colourful life rumbles on outside the neon strip joints and bars. I love it.
A tramp asks, 'Do you have any change for a guy to get drunk? I promise I won't spend it on food or accommodation.'
But alas one night is all we have in this great city. The rental car has to be back in Seattle in two days, we have some driving to do.
Si stays on for a few days before leaving for home. The last few days had been good and strange in a way. We drop Si off at a hostel, say our goodbyes and head across the Golden Gate Bridge heading north. The bridge is undeniably beautiful and certainly lives upto the hype. through a tunnel and into the fog of Marin County. Lovely foresty goodness.
We drive into and through the Redwood National park surrounded by humongous trees as wide as the car. An intense driving bonanza continues the next day as we drive from northern California through Oregon state and most of Washington to just outside Seattle at Seatac. After hours of driving and 3000 miles of the last 2 weeks under our belts we begin to wonder how we're going to explain the mileage to the rental company.
Our limit was Oregon and Washington states so to do the kind of mileage we have we should have seen loads of both states. We hadn't seen a jot. We were planning on making stuff up about the places we'd been in Oregon to explain more than doubling the car's mileage. I'm pondering this as we approach our motel for the night. At the lights we feel a bump and jolt forward. I didn't know what had happened. I nearly just drove off thinking it was the car but it soon dawned on me that we'd been hit by the car from behind. Oh great. Any damage to the car and we have to pay the first $400! This would blow our budget through the roof. After all this driving and the night before we have to return the car some tool drives into the back of us at traffic lights where everyone had been stationary for minutes. We get out and surprise surprise the guy has no insurance. Brilliant. The damage is minimal, luckily only a couple of scratches. But even so, if the rental people spot it we're in for a big payout. We take numbers and the guy says he'll pay for the damage if necessary, unlikely I thought.
Added to the high mileage the new scratches were an extra worry. Do we face up to it and confess all that went on? Do we call the police reporting the guy without insurance thus also admitting all that went on? Nah. We turn up next day playing it cool. The rental guy got in the car to note the mileage. He wrote the trip mileage down thinking it was the overall mileage and didn't even look at the rest of the car. We were home and dry! We almost ran away, a great start to the day. Hopefully the next couple of days in Seattle run as smoothly!

If you're going to San Francisco

We drive along the highway, blue skies, sun shining, towards San Francisco. We cross the very long Bay Bridge that halfway along goes through a tunnel on an island. In the distance we make out Golden Gate bridge, one of the most iconic images of America.


Driving into the centre of famous steep streets and great looking buildings is like being on a film set of many a high speed car chase, apart from the one way systems and traffic lights.
We stop in a Victorian building building with old style ornate metal doored lifts and views over the streets covered in sun and style. I like this place, a lot.
You can't forget it's still winter but when the sky is clear and the sun is out everything is better and this is what I always thought California was like.


There's clearly not as many homeless here as in Vancouver and the ones that are around don't hassle us. Around Union Square a couple hang around but there's not much there for us anyway. A few tourists are having there photo taken outside Macy's and other non-descript buildings.
Another city, another Chinatown. It's a big one too.

I suppose it's only a few thousand miles across the water to China from here. It's the first Chinatown I've seen that sells souvenirs and t-shirts rather than just food and Chinese trinkets.
Those no avoiding those steep streets. It can be a killer walking around all day, which is why so many tourists are on the trams stood on the outside. The trams look cool and add to the whole scene of San Francisco as they traverse the angled streets. Everywhere makes a good photograph here. It's like there was an agreement when all the building were put up that they all had to have a similar yet unique style and colour. There doesn't seem to be any gritty areas either, it all just flows into one beautiful city.
San Francisco is a peninsula so therefore it's surrounded by water on three sides and connecting bridges like the Golden Gate. This can be seen from up at the Coit Tower, which we climb up to for sunset across the bay. Oddly at night the Golden Gate bridge isn't lit up like the long Bay Bridge is and thus doesn't look as good at night. But from Coit Tower you not only can see the hilly streets of San Fran but the former prison island of Alcatraz.
We walk towards Little Italy with the smell of garlic wafting through the air and Italian looking blokes smoking on the street talking in, surprisingly, Italian. Nearby is a leafy green square and good looking white church.


We visit a famous book store, City Lights, that was famous for it's connection to the Beat poet movement of the 60's, of which San Fran was central to. Many a famous poet and musician have visited here as seen by the photos of Bob Dylan stood in the adjacent alleyway. It's a true bookshop full to bursting with scattered books and a floor dedicated to poetry upstairs. They even publish books here too. Practically next door is the bar Vesuvio. Owned and run by poets and drunks, possibly one in the same, this place is scattered with 60's throwback San Fran artefacts and pictures. It's a quintessential American bar. Well, in my mind anyway. The whole area looks good, a huge jazz mural adorns the building across the street and through the upstairs stained glass windows of the bar you can see the mural down the alley.

Across the street in the other direction is a 'flat iron' style building of triangular proportions with a much newer, but no less good looking, pointy skyscraper looming behind.
We eat curry and chat to a Nepalese guy who's missing England a lot, 'Even London is cheaper than here!'.
New Years Eve. We walk up to Lombard Street which is home to the 'crookedest street'. This street coming down Russian Hill has been featured in many films and car chases and has many tourists driving down it taking photos whilst hanging out of the window or running down in front of cars. I didn't realise people lived on this street but they do.
We stroll around an upscale shopping district and dive into a decent coffeeshop for a cuppa where a guy leaves a very expensive camera and a bit of equipment next to us, we go to hand it in of course, and he comes back in, 'I've done this a few times now!'. Crikey!
It reminded me of being in Peru and walking up to a cash machine as it asks if I would like another transaction, someone had left their card in and I could've easily wiped out their account. If I was that sort but I'm not so Laura chased the girl down the street and handed her card back. Turns out she'd also done it before but didn't seem to fussed.
New Years Eve was time for Les Claypool the bass genius from Primus. We arrive at the Filmore, one of the most famous music venues in the world and has been home to the biggest names in rock history for decades. From the outside it's unassuming and we walk past it unsure of where it is. Trying to find somewhere to get a drink is more difficult. It's not even that early, around half 7, but out of the 2 or 3 bars nearby only a pizzeria selling beer has anyone inside. It'll do.
Once inside the venue we realise how small the place is, my kind of place really. The walls inside are covered with concert posters from decades gone by including bands like Led Zeppelin, The doors and Jimi Hendrix. The theme is 'Mad hatters' and there's plenty of home made giant hats around. The gig was brilliant, funk-tastic and the band came dressed in various sea related themes, Les was the sailor, the saxophone player had a huge fish head and a a guest vocalist was wearing a giant shark suit. Balloons covered the place on the stroke of New Year as Les played funky bass to a load of American nutters and us. A guy kept walking through the crowd saying, 'mushrooms' in peoples ears. A couple of sea based numbers later and it was all over and we were outside waiting for the bus in the cold clutching our free posters and the t-shirts I'd bought. Definitely one of the best New Years ever.
And with that the next day we headed south, after driving down the crooked Lombard Street for full on tourist experience. We knew that we'd be back to San Fran soon enough.
We hit the beach south of San Fran on New Years day in the sunshine, now that was a pretty damn cool way to start 2008.
I say hit the beach but after about 10 minutes of being outside with my t-shirt on I had to run back to the car freezing! I don't know how those surfers put up with it sometimes.