San Francisco

It has been a  week of contrasts but we are finally in San Franisco.   Our senses are still in overload, the twang of the West Coast accent still unfamiliar in our ears. Yet somehow San Fran seems friendly even to our jet lagged brains.

 LAX Mess

We arrived from Australia into the mess that is currently LAX. We had decided before hand that we would shower in the terminal if time permitted. We had a three hour lay over so it should have been enough.  Despite hitting LAX at the same time as three other Australian flights, immigration border control was reasonably easy.  We were denied automated entry but that might have had something to do with declaring being near to Animals in the recent past. The guy thought we were declaring food at first he seemed a bit bemused at the cow thing.

LAX is undergoing construction, possibly its never stopped under going construction,  the airline made it seem so simple to get from A to B.  Go to baggage claim, find the transfer area, put bags on conveyor, turn right.

So…. Everything went well with our plans up until turn right. Where we were met by a airport security person who instructed us to head outside and turn right.  So we did… then we walked and walked and walk, at least we were not carting Boris at that point.  The instructions were correct, we checked about 1/4 of the way along to a most bemused Skywest or something employee. He gave us a time frame 15 minute unless you run in which case 11 minutes.  Till we got to the right terminal which oddly for our connecting domestic flight was labeled international. Through security we went (again) waving our boarding passes merrily, iKaruS got beeped at the metal detector although he thought he was half punked as he heard the guys talking about needing to do purely random checks. Suffice to say he was patted down and alas it was not a pretty young thing. Upstairs we found the lounge only to discover at this terminal  no showers!  (Earlier on in Sydney I gave iKaruS conniptions  by settling in for a drink (just juice) in the lounge with ten minutes before boarding and after the first call. I have promised not to do that again and he has semi agreed to my being a bit anxious getting to the airport. My reasoning is that if you are booked on and have checked bags they are unlikely to go without you or calling for you personally. But if you are not even through security or have your bags down then “see you later”

It was ok that the lounged didn’t have showers as we didn’t really need showers but then I failed with two different coffee machines. The first the discard drawer was full and the second ran out of milk.  Oh and thats another thing getting used to cream and creamers again instead of milk.  It doesn’t make much difference really but it is one less thing for wait staff to try and work out.  English is not English and the simple variances of accents actually makes a large difference to being understood.   I did manage a semi ok coffee and made it back to iKaruS without any drama. Neither of us were hungry after the flight so we declined any food.

The flight to San Fran was uneventful except for take off, it was a full flight and I was amazed once more at what “carry on” baggage really is. Suitcases of stuff brought on as if it really did only weigh 7 kg.  For reference my checked backpack weighs in at just over 11kg at the moment.  If it was a wheelie bag I am sure I could get it on as carry on! You watch people attempt to get on with two large bags and argue with the hosties that it will fit.  It won’t so I don’t know where they put these magic bags but they did manage to take off almost on time. We’d been told repeatedly to get on quick otherwise we would lose our slot due to the constructions and the shut down of one of the runways.   I think the pilot was told he had a slot if he could get out in front of another plane because the way we crossed the tarmac to the runway was the fastest I’ve ever been in a plane on the ground and moving! Even the Hosties had to hang on as the plane screeched around corners, sliding glasses of water across arms of the first class cabin.  He even got us into SFO on time as well not bad for a late start.

BARTS, Trams, Cable Cars and Bikes.

I really didn’t know what to expect from San Franisico. I have very vague recollections as a child and the city I see does not match those images.  The image I have is probably filled with popular culture references and the memories of a six year old are not the greatest anyway.   And mingled with the memories of cities travelled to at the same age.  I do remember the sound of the trams but that may have come from anywhere.

As an adult my first thought is that this is a friendly city. It’s easy to get around and we’ve felt safe for the last couple of days.  It has overloaded my senses with sounds and scents of life.  Our accomodation was in central sunset two blocks away from Golden Gate park which for the record is not really near the bridge!  To get there was easy enough, catch the Bart to Civic, then a tram to someplace near by.  So that’s what we did. Noting we were both carrying out backpacks and had Boris with us.  Not knowing the city when the first Tram arrived and was mostly full we squished out way on.  I was stuck hanging between two young men, a lady carrying a stoned looking dog and multitude of others.  A large group of Teenagers were also in the cabin, they were celebrating. I am not sure what but the celebration included liberal amounts of pot smoking and what seemed to be drinking rocket fuel.  (Rocket Fuel, all the bits of alcohol stolen from parents and mixed into some soft drink container, often with enough soft drink to make the colour vaguely right). The cabin of the tram grew incredibly smokey during the trip.  The group got out about half way along the Tram line much to the relief of others on board.  The driver mumbled something into the coms but our brains were not able to comprehend it so we assumed it was some sort of don’t do it again message.

The Tram line stops less than a block away from the accomodation and has been our life line in and out of the city.  We’ve only made one mistake on it and that was late last night where I misread an inward train (it was the right line) but about 25 minutes into the trip and almost to the terminus.  MY brain kicked in as we went past the AT&T car park that we hadn’t seem that car park before.  The error was simple enough I read 23rd st and knew we got off at 24 st so jumped on the train. Turned out that 23rd and 3rd is the other end of 23rd and half a city away from where we were.

So we jumped off then back on the TRAM, thanking whatever spirits there were that the first purchase we made was for Clipper Cards so we only lost time not money.  We sat towards the back and people watched the late night commuters.  One guy sat with a knife on his knee, he looked stable enough although was uncomfortable with us being there. Another person got on and sat. He looked to be carrying his personal belongings around with him but he offered a man nearby a toke on his e-cigarette, fake smoke swirled across his face as if mirroring the steam rising from the underground.  It seemed a simple random act but as if the act itself changed the relationship the first guy moved up the cabin an embarrassed shuffle.

People people people

After finding the accomodation and seeing it was still early afternoon we decided to try and stay awake but walking in the nearby park.  Calling it a simple park is not quite right. It is probably bigger than Central Park in New York and stretches from the ocean across the island towards the city.  We were geocaching, not particularly successfully given the downloaded list failed and we didn’t have any network connection at that point.  But as always it takes you to surprising places and part of the park are fields with upright BBQ’s and open spaces. There were teenagers and young adults everywhere, the closer it got to the evening the more picnickers appeared.  It was odd to see such large gatherings of kids outside say sports days. But there they were all hanging out in groups sometimes with musical instruments, sometimes with music playing, others played frisbee on the local frisbee golf course and of course all talking.  It was almost a swarm of young adults.  We kept trying to work out if there was something on but I think they were just enjoying the late afternoon warmth.   

This scene was repeated the next day in different parks.  Numbers of groups all out having picnics at Fort Mason or the Presido. All the time the barrage of noise cascading over us. Individual words unable to be picked out in the swamp of accents.  It seemed we had arrived on the first really good weather weekend for spring.   We were also met with large groups of people at the ferry wharf / farmers markets.  Were we brought baguette and Cheese then randomly decided to jump on the Ferry across to Sausalito.  Sausalito is the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge and the ferry takes you past Alcatraz.  I hadn’t booked a tour and they were sold out so the ferry was as close as we got.  Still the calm weather and sunshine made Alcatraz not look too bad.  Our opinion changed as we viewed it from the lookouts on the other side of the bridge. It’s isolation and steep cliffs did make it seem like a perfect prison environment.   Crowds and more crowds greeted us as Sausalito, most people I think out for day trips to eat pizza or just relax in the tourist hamlet.   

Riding the Golden Gate

As usual we did things by winging it. Finding a bike store that would let us ride back into San Franisco. So many bikers go one way then catch the ferry back that a number of stores run a ‘parking’ area. One way rentals only one however offered the reverse from Sausalito back.  Dylan or Mark or whatever his name was, looked like he had seen more brain cells earlier in life.  He had a vacant stare and a befuddled  approach, “no no just stay there I’m just looking” as he roamed back and forth looking at the bikes.  He let us know multiple times about the drop off point in the city. “Now take a picture of it” I think he instructed us about six times until I showed him my lil point and shoot camera. He did give some good advice about going up to the right of the bridge and taking a short walk to the old Spencer battery.  The view was incredible.

But to get there we had to go uphill.  After the first gentle ride in town we found ourselves on an uphill.  Suddenly realising our legs were not trained for bike riding and up is hard. We walked the first big uphill and the second one as  pelotons of riders swept past us.  We were not the only ones with the ride into Sausalito causing many tourists to be walking bikes uphill. I chuckled as I heard one young man exclaim that it cannot be another hill…. There was and a big one but we had ridden down it.  We stopped at the top of the bridge and ate a chocolate Mcvittee before walking up to Spender Battery.  It really was perfect weather, we could see across the bay into San FRaniscio and the sailing boats were racing around and under the bridge, huge colourful spinnakers filled as they raced back towards the bridge.  Eagles soared above us with joy flights on the changing currents.  It was one of those moments as a tourist that you are just happy to be there.  I could also say we were probably also riding an endorphin wave.  We headed back to the bikes and with my heart pounding started across the bridge.  It is two way in the bike lane. Open on the west side to bikes only but with the sheer numbers it was a wee bit dangerous. We tried to keep moving at a fast pace but even so others flew around us taking gaps between the oncoming riders. One lady fell at the first pylon, as she needed to halt suddenly before turning right sharply.  It was not an easy turn to make - she was helped up by her partner and I hope continued on.   We stopped about half way over on a tiny wider part to take photos.

Our ride was mostly uneventful, except for the numbers of people walking and riding on the more popular stretches. My bell failed to ding and at one point with a large group of Japanese tourists suddenly walked across both dedicated bike lanes on a diagonal I simply yelled “Aii aii Aii” They moved rapidly, much to the amusement of the other bike riders who dinged their bell in appreciation of my “ai’s”. IKaruS behind me I think was caught between bemusement and annoyance but the only other option had been to fall off! (Or hit one of them!)

We handed back our bikes to a guy who seemed like the son of the first guy. He had the same kind of far away look in his eyes and mumbled that he wasn’t really expecting us.  But he did let us know where a good bar/cafe was.

Random Acts of Kindness and good will

We keep coming across Random Acts of kindness.  We walked up Lombard St, which is one of the streets that movies use, it switches back and forth in a single lane between rows of houses set on a steep ridge line.  Flowers and small gardens line the switches and it is very pretty.  It was also crowded with Tourists including the majority of cars coming down. A steady stream of people more than happy to lean out windows or through open roofs. The best had to be the love bus a hippie painted van with lots of friendly people giving the peace sign.  Or the guy in a convertible one hand on the wheel the other in the air recording his trip down the road on his phone.   But at the top ran one of the old cable cars. The hiss of the cable running under the ground a interesting sound. We boarded and I was hustled into the interior but the driver noticing iKaruS camera stopped him and made a space the left hand side outer edge. Now by outer edge I mean standing on the platform and holding on to an upright post.  I was somewhat concerned as the driver gave him instructions to move his backpack to his front and then we were off.   This Random act of kindness gave iKaruS a memorable trip.

As he clung to the pole along with six others on that side his grin grew larger and larger.  The car would top a hill then with the driver tugging on the brake race down the other side, the conductor at the back singing out if the car was clear of cars on either side. At one point the guy in front of iKaruS reached out and touched a turning car.  Further down the line a cable car from the other direction enabled high fives to be exchanged.  On the right side as a car pulled out too far the conductor told those hanging on that side to look out for their feet as we scraped by.  It seems in San Fran the cable car has right of way.  iKaruS kept hanging in there as we dropped down another hill and eventually came to the terminus.  His grin stuck on his face, but he hadn’t been able to get any images.

Our own act of kindness happened next. A young man approached us, he looked a bit dishevelled with dirt encrusted hands. His mop top of hair held back from his face. He asked if we had anything to eat.  We didn’t but I asked him what he would like. We ended up in Hungry Jacks just talking to him a while as we waited for his meal to arrive.  This was his first spring in San Fran he told us and while California and San Francisco is friendly, it’s not cheap. It beat being homeless in other places.  We talked about the global economy and he was open about his struggles in gaining employment, he can work and had worked in electrical mechanics but the smaller family run places which were more accepting of his mental health issues kept being brought out by larger companies. He hadn’t survived more than a year after that happened.    He reminded me strongly of my middle nephew, something in his open manner of speaking, yet he remained guarded and thankful for the food. We left him to eat in peace and made our way back outside.

The driver of the tram was still out there waiting and iKaruS wanted to thank him so over we went.  We ended up chatting for a bit while the cops sorted out some sort of protest.  He was interested in the cows and looked them up amazed at the “banded” cattle. He had his own place with horses on it. He did not look like a horse rider being rather large and stocky, not fat, more footballer sized! I felt some pity for the horses but didn’t say anything.  I suppose iKaruS and I should say we live on a ranch rather than the more British farm. Either way it seems to set people more at ease, as if coming from  the country and having a connection with animals makes you a nicer person.

Today has been a slower day, Sunday brunch in inner Sunset, the haze is obscuring the views from yesterday but soon I’ll be moving us to Japantown and the last day of the Cherry Blossom Festival.  We might end up heading at Sunset to the Land End park to watch the sun go down over the Pacific.  IT seems to odd that only three days ago I stood on the other side of this ocean with friends and now I am on this side.