San Fransisco (Parte Deux)

June 2012

We were back where we had started – San Francisco. Or “The city of fuck-off hills” as I like to call it. Dumping the bags at the hostel the four of us who had dropped off the RV headed off in search of lunch, ending up in tiny place in China Town which had some pretty amazing food indeed. With a follow up cheeky cocktail (and banana friters!) in the establishment next door.

Scenes of the City

 With the issue of 7 of us sneaking into the booked room of 6 (surprising easy actually!) we couldn’t all check in at the same time, especially as Eshe was with us till the evening despite not checking into the hostel. As such Barney and I stayed outside the hostel whilst they all checked in, getting increasingly cold and bored. So did the logical thing of finding the nearest alcohol serving establishment on the corner of the street. And what a find; they offered $2 beer (which admittedly did nothing towards getting drunk at all, but who’s complaining really!) and $5 pizza and beer. We were in there for a while! Plus the other took a lifetime and an age to sort their lives out…

 Having finally made it back to the room and getting sorted, we all headed en mass to get some dinner. Back to the pizza place. Me and Barney were rather happy at that one! The meal was lovely – definitely recommend eating there if you are ever in San Fran (its on the corner of Stutter and Taylor). Sadly we had to say bye to Eshe during the meal, her flight to DC being that evening, and the group was whittled down to 7. After the meal Barney and Wahid decided to be old men and go to bed, so the rest of us hit the streets to find a drink (being Saturday night n’all!), chancing on a dive bar a couple of blocks from the hostel. It didn’t ID, and had a jukebox and pool table. Pretty good! We chilled out there for a few hours drinking, playing pool and singing along to the jukebox, with a rather bizarre pool match occurring between Jon and Antonia against some latinos who seemed to change the rules every shot claiming it was ‘American Rules’. Yeah right mate… Getting back to the hostel, everyone passed out pretty quick with the day being a long one. 

Shooting a lil' pool

The next day, after a disappointing breakfast with Barney and Wahid, we had a wonder around the shopping district, as Kim wanted to get a few bits and bobs to take home with her. The plan was then to walk to the Golden Gate park and chill out, but intercepting plans with Barney and Wahid (who hadn’t joined us shopping) we met up with them at a bar that was supposed to have a table tennis table. And wow what a bar… The strange thing about San Fran is how the areas can change drastically within a block, with some times a certain block can be very different to other blocks around it. This was the case with the location of this bar we arranged to meet Barney and Wahid at; the bar (called Club 21) was located in quite a poor neighbourhood (not a particular issue), except for the fact that everyone inside looked very desolate or very mean. And the place stunk of piss. Lovely…. Me being me however was still keen to go in and have a drink for the experience and story, but the others weren’t so keen, and as such we made our way over to the much nicer neighbourhood of Haight Ashbury to another bar with a table tennis table. Which just so happened to accept only passports as ID. Typical… So instead we went over the road to a little café for a drink and some lunch. 

Haight Ashbury is a rather nice, gentrified area of San Fran with a definite quirky feel to it. Jon and the girls went shopping, whilst Barney, Wahid and I went for another drink. Standard! We ended up in this very bizarre Arabian themed cocktail bar, with an incredibly annoying American man talking incredibly loudly about politics to random people who weren’t interested in the slightest. Talk about conforming to stereotypes… Being served a random cocktail by the barmaid (knocked up there and then off the top of her head-very impressive) talk ranged from the Falklands (again), war on terror and my discovery of a homeless guy in the toilet butt naked. No joke. Feeling rather merry we left the Arabian place in an effort to find the others, and in the process Barney and Wahid became obsessed with finding a chess board (no idea where that came from!) and I realised we had missed Kim who had left to get her flight. Oops – sorry mate… We found Jon, Antonia and Amy and they proudly showed us their purchases. Chief being some natural product that is supposed to be a natural, legal high. Except it smelt suspiciously like tea… Cue a huge amount of ripping from us three there!

More scenes of the city

Dinner was at a gourmet burger place (can’t remember its name) which itself was quite an experience. On the surface it looked like quite a nice place, big burgers with different combinations. However the server (the place was like a fast food restaurant where you go up and order at the till rather than a traditional resturant style where you order at the table) was a complete bitch making a snide comment about the lack of tip. Look love, all you’ve done is punch some buttons. Ive even had to pour my own drink. Maybe when you had bought my food to me (which involved a minimal effort on your behalf) I may have considered giving you a tip. Ungracious bitch… To make matters even worse Jon and Antonia, who ordered after me, had a gratuity charge added to their order. Rude. 

The meal got a touch bizarre when a homeless guy wondered in with his pants falling down not leaving much to the imagination (second time for me. Fantastic…). Obviously he was asked to leave, and so (in what I can only guess is an attempt at protest) he pushed over a chair and stormed out. Getting confused with which way the door opened in the process. Yeah, stick it to the man, mate!  The evening was spent on a trip to the cinema. To be honest I wasn’t that keen on going, as movies can be watched anywhere, but I went along with it. And to be honest watching Sasha Baren Cohen lick someone’s armpit in ‘The Dictator’ wasn’t exactly a great evening. But there we go.

The next day was a pretty wet and miserable one, so after a lazy breakfast at the Sutter pub (nearest of a pub have been to in the USA and definitely recommended!) we headed back to the cinema. Yep, twice in 12 hours. Afterwards we hung out in the pizza place and the hostel again. Jon had already left that morning, and it was my turn in the evening.

Saying goodbye to the 4 left was a strange experience indeed. It was a final end to an incredible month and one hell of a journey. An incredibly enjoyable part of my year aboard, and definitely one of the highlights. From a road trip and San Fran it was onwards in my travels. Back east to the country. Rural Mississippi to be exact.

Road Trip Part 10 - The End of a Journey. One Hell of a Journey

The next morning was the start of the penultimate day. And more importantly to some; the last night in the RV (with Barney’s love/hate cycle becoming very predictable now!). The plan was to head to the final RV site in South San Francisco (a different city to San Francisco apparently…) via Napa Valley. Yet again one of the conditions for going to Napa Valley was one of the drivers not drinking. And yet again the other two valued drink over seeing places and did not want to drive to unless they could drink in Napa Valley. So I had to yet again take one for the team. Cheers guys.

The drive was pretty straightforward, and a last minute read of the guidebook meant we diverted away from downtown Napa (described as not the place to go for the true Napa Valley experience) a little further towards the village (if that’s what it can be called) of Yountville. A very VERY nice part of the world, apart from the bizarre attempt to recreate a French style village with fancy bistros and bunting everywhere. Whatever I guess! However it was a rather expensive. I mean like $30 for a main course expensive. A little out of our price ranges, especially at the end of a rather expensive 25 days. Not being in the French style of the area, but a little less expensive we settled for a meal at a burger place. Which was actually very nice, and an enjoyable lazy lunch was enjoyed by all. Wahid had to make the occasional trip away from the restaurant for a smoke, and plonking himself down on a bench he provided amusement for all by looking like the archetypal Frenchie!

Fulfilling the stereotypes...!

Soon enough it was time to set off again, with my sober self once again taking one for the team. The journey was about typical for Cali, with traffic building up in the rush hour and drivers cutting in and out of lanes at will without any hint of indication whatsoever. The result of this lunacy was a car smash as we were on the interstate, in which one car had been spun completely around in the middle lane, about three or four cars ahead of us. Obviously the cars in front of us came to a stop, and I had to stop pretty darn quick too. Which in a heavy RV with 8 in the back that is no easy feat and there was a definite heart in mouth (possibly protruding out of said mouth) moment when I thought we weren’t going to slow quick enough and go into the back of the car in front. Luckily, with everyone grabbing on for dear life at my shout of “hold on!” and luggage and clothes flying forward out of the back of the RV, we came to a stop mere inches from the bumper of the car. So so lucky. I was amazed at how my reactions took over, smacking on the hazards and trying to manoeuvre round the smash, whilst ensuring everyone else was OK (they were thank god!). a heated debate then erupted over whether to stop and help, the conclusion being no due to the numbers of us the RV, practicality of stopping mid-interstate and going back, so I just drove on with my adrenaline levels sky high. Causing me to miss the exit we needed and having to make a hell of a detour around. Typical…

From there it was one extreme to another – reaching the bridge into South San Fran and the toll to go over ($4. Not amazing but could be worse), the rush hour traffic had really built up, making it an almost hour to stop and start over about a mile. Turning up the music and winding down the windows we certainly got some funny looks from other drivers expecting us to be an older couple going for a little RV jaunt! There also some hilarious little kids waving to all the drivers around them (To no avail of course). Until we pulled up next to them of course and they could get enough of waving away at us!
 

We arrived at the South San Fran RV park (called Treasure Island, except without the treasure. Or island…) and parked up. Then looked around. The place was a full on living park – there were RVs that clearly hadn’t been moved in decades, with enough algae on them to warrant a full on biochemical inspection! Anyways, at $55 a night, with no WiFi and bathrooms that closed at 10:30 to stop the homeless people occupying them, it was certainly one of the more interesting parks we had stayed in. But hell it was the last night and we needed to be near to San Fran so it had to do. The evening was in theory when we sorted out and started cleaning the RV to give back the next day. Except everyone was drunk. So very little got done with a certain person’s attitude of “fuck that”. So mature… Anyways, I got my shit sorted (as I usually do) and joined in with the merriment, with Wahid knocking up a fantastic last meal to try and use up all the left over food. 

As the merriment continued and people started passing out, a slight disagreement occurred over floor occupation, with the self confessed feminist Antonia agreeing to go on the floor (having not been keen on it at all for the whole trip – Eshe had managed to wriggle out of it), except for the slight problem of having conveniently having fallen asleep on the bed above the cab. Barney, Michael and I weren’t having any of I, and so tried to coax her down onto the floor using a number of tactics (in our drunk state this seemed a great idea at the time). First of was positive advertising (read complete lies) in describing the floor space to be waaay more luxurious than it actually was, with an en suite (the bathroom), kitchenette, safety feature (the fire extinguisher by the door) and easy access (the side door). Needless to say she wasn’t having any of it. So after a unsuccessful grab and move attempt (with numerous moving of Amy in the process) we gave up, tried to disturb Wahid and Eshe having a moment in the back by carrying Amy in midway. Thus managing to piss off Amy and her fulfilling the floor space. Not a bad result, apart from upsetting Amy (sorry mate…).

The next morning was a 6am start. Because Michael set his alarm wrong. Muppet! Rising at 7am, it was time for what should have been done the night before – sort the RV out for return to the Cruise America depot. Whilst the usual suspects disappeared for various reasons (surprise surprise) the rest of us cracked on. Few hours later (with the RV still not named sadly – she just wasn’t a Martha type really!) the RV was the cleanest and tidiest I had seen it since the beginning, and it was time for the last journey. Heading abck to the Cruise America depot in Fremont via a BART station to drop all but the three drivers and Amy. We were saying goodbye to Michael here as we was iff straight home where as the rest of us were going via San Fran. It was a weird feeling saying goodbye to him especially having spent the majority of time driving with him riding shotgun. He looked happy to be gone from the RV though!

Domestic bliss.... not.

Heading back to the depot it was time to settle with Cruise America the issues with the previous RV and being dumped in Crenshaw (LINK).  To be fair to them they sorted us out alright with 3 days free RV rental (the amount of time we had had Martha), mileage wiped off Martha (around 1000miles) and full reimbursements for taxis and hotels. Considering the millage we did on the new RV (3000+ miles – well over the included limit) we got $500 back. Not bad all things considering! Exiting the RV for the last time was an interesting feeling. On one hand I was happy that I wouldn’t have to spend any more time in such an enclosed space, side stepping everyone and making beds out of tables (Barney’s particular favourite. Not…) with serious discussions on who was sleeping where every night. But having said that it was part of our ‘gypsy’ identity for just under a month, and we had done and been through so much in it. The trip was definitely been a trip of a lifetime. No doubt about that, and despite my bitching and ranting at times I did thoroughly enjoy myself on it. Would I do it again? I would have to think about it I think, but this time round I am glad and fortunate to have had the opportunity to experience it, and with the 8 others in the RV with me. I mean when else in your life are you gonna cram 9 people into an RV, break down in a blood neighbourhood of LA, dance the night away in the desert, gamble in vegas, see some of the most beautiful places in the world, drive a 30ft beast along some hair raising roads, see some amazing animals up close and see some fantastic sunsets over different parts of the USA? And all in the space of a month with some people who at times you wanted to rip heads off, but you overall had a great time with. 

My biggest regret? Not getting to Texas. But that arguments been done to death.

The final distance reading (minus Marsha's contribution of course)

"Go Weeeeeeeeeest, this and more we'll do!"

May 2012

With my final weekend at UNC coming to a close, it was time to get on with what I was truly wanting to do in the USA: travel! First stop, San Fun-sisco, California!

Leaving Chapel Hill at 4am was a bitch, but we managed, with Eshe flying out of the place she was staying with clothes still in her hands to be stuffed into bags in the car. At the airport there was further drama as Amy’s bag was over the weight limit, so excess shifted to mine; good job I was packing light!

It’s a long old way from East to West coast, and we had a stop in Cincinnati (no idea either!) en route, arriving in San Fran at like 9am Eastern time. Amy and I were booked into a different hostel from the others, and so left Eshe to find ours and link up later. Rising up from the metro station we had our first interaction with a SF resident. A professional skateboarder who is in the Airforce. And is homeless. Yeah, work that one out! Despite his craziness however he was incredibly helpful in directing us to the hostel and with a cheery wave hobbled off down the street with his walking stick. To go skateboarding. On a plane I would imagine…

Embracing the hills

The trams

Riding the tram. Like a pro.

After dumping our stuff and going through all the paperwork rubbish needed to stay in a hostel we went to link up with Eshe, who was with Kim and Jon, two Manchester students who had been at Toronto University and now joining us for the road trip. From the Civic centre where we met we took the iconic SF tram up and down the incredibly steep hills towards Fisherman's Warf and a long anticipated seafood lunch.

The afternoon was spent wandering around the SF bay area, and it began to strike me how cool the city is. Before getting to SF I wasn’t actually that fussed about going there, but having got there and seen the place I'm so glad I went. It was such a vibrant and quirky place, with all the iconic SF things about it such as the hills, houses, trams, sun and sea. Wandering around the place we stumbled upon a random bar in the middle of a neighbourhood and stopped for a cheeky drink. The barman seemed thrilled to have a bunch of foreigners wander in, filling us in on all the places to go see in the city whilst we were there, including places that many tourists don’t bother going to. He was a genuinely nice guy, although very W. coast-ish with his prancing around and continuously saying ‘alright’ with a  clap of the hands. Damn west coasters… That evening we went for a drink on Market Street (one of the main trunk roads through the city). The place was a typical American bar, but nice enough, and gave Kim and Jon enough entertainment at the types in there. Anyone would have thought they had spent time in Canada or something… It was great getting to know the two of them, and they seemed pretty sound. Certainly happy to have them along for the adventures to be had in the next few weeks!

Three of the ladies

City Scenes

The next day was another wander around the city collecting sore feet, with a chance stumble upon the City Hall Market not far from the hostel Amy and I were staying in. It was an incredibly good find, as I had the best crepe ive had in a long time, found some amazing strawberries and was entertained by a drunk homeless guy attempting to play the harmonica. His tactic was unique to say the least by creeping up on women with another half with them and then launching into full song (I use that term loosely there…) until the guy got annoyed. The homeless guy would then slink away to repeat the routine 30seconds later. To the same person. I don’t think I need to mention his tactics wern't very profitable… That afternoon was spent upon a bike trekking to the iconic SF bridge and going over it. In 3 hours. No biggie there then! The ride was probably one of the best things Ive done in a while, with a phenomenal view of the bridge across the bay as we cycled towards it. The route itself wasn’t too bad, with only a couple of cheeky hills, especially up onto the actual bridge, but also plenty of flat bits for a bit of speed racing. Not that we did that of course being all mature and safety conscious… The ride was rounded off rather nicely with SF’s signature dish: clam chowder. Which is basically a bread roll hollowed out and filled with clam soup-type sauce. Perfect way to pile on the calories burnt off from the ride!  Though to be honest getting didn’t make me feel particularly SF-ian as we got it from a very angry shout-y Chinese man from a stall next to the pier. Ah well, was tasty at least!

Pretty legit advice I feel...

The Town Hall at dusk.

That evening we wandered up into little Haight for a drink or two, on the recommendation of the bar man from the day before. I have to say it wasn’t a bad shout as the place was a bit more local and had a quirky feel to it. The bar we ended up in had stable style doors (maybe to test who was drunk and couldn’t get into the place?!), a very large and very tattooed barman and one hell of a selection of beer and cider on tap. Perfect! Although confusion did reign when Amy tried to pay for her drink by card only to be told they don’t accept cards (fair enough), the barman didn’t own a card (eh?) and it was San Francisco baby (right…). Is that considered to be part of the land of the free then…?

With the Town Hall

With Alcatraz

With the San Fran Bridge

SF was one cool city, and I loved the iconic and quirky-ness that it seemed to have. Having said that, it hasn’t quite grown on me yet, and I think I prefer the cities of the South. Having said that it was a great two days spent in the city, and a perfect way to start the summer of adventure!

(photo credits to Amy, Eshe & Kimberley)