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Day 12: Saturday 28th April A much better nights rest, and an early start to complete our journey to San Francisco. Before we hit the highway again we had to put some more petrol in the car. Fuel is so cheap in the States compared to England, about $1.80 for a gallon of petrol as opposed to about $1.10 for a litre back home. In fact, the whole journey only cost us about $20 in petrol. It would have been nice to cross the Golden Gate bridge to enter San Francisco, but this would have meant a big detour so instead we drove through Oakland and across the Bay bridge which still gave us a great view of the water. Unlike British road bridges, where the two streams of traffic go side by side, incoming traffic goes on top of the bridge, and outgoing traffic goes underneath. This means that you have a wonderful view entering the city, and a lousy one when leaving it. Driving in San Francisco is a nightmare, it's all one way streets, so it was a major navigational feat just trying to find the hotel. Eventually we found it, and the plan was to drop off one case at the hotel and leave the others at the airport when we dropped off the car. It is not really cost effective to drive in S.F., parking is extremely expensive, and the neighbourhood around our hotel was pretty rough so leaving the car near the hotel was not an option. After checking in, we drove to the airport, gave back the hire car, and went to find somewhere to leave our luggage. This seemingly simple task took the best part of two hours. Nobody at the airport seemed to know where we could leave our luggage, or they gave us conflicting instructions, or they just did not have a sufficient grasp of the english language to understand what we were asking. It was a thoroughly frustrating experience which only reinforced my already bad first impressions of San Francisco. Both of us were starving so we had a very over priced pizza each, and then caught a shuttle bus back to the city. 
Sitting in the shuttle bus and not having to drive allowed me to have a better look at the city. Most of it is flat, but there are the ridiculously steep hills that San Francisco is famous for. It was quite daunting being driven up one of them, getting to the top and then driving all the way down the other side. The hills are exactly like you may have seen on television and in films, even though it is difficult to believe a city would be built on such a landscape. Some of them are so steep that the pavements are long steps. It is a legal requirement when parking on a hill to have your wheels facing in towards the curb in case the brakes fail, so the vehicle won't go careering downwards. We had decided to make Fisherman's Wharf our first port of call. This is an area right on the bay, a total tourist trap with loads of cool little shops, and a fantastic view of the Golden Gate bridge and Alcatraz prison. The place was absolutely heaving with tourists, we did a bit of shopping to buy gifts for our families, and bought tickets to visit Alcatraz on Monday. After a leisurely stroll down towards the park, we joined the long queue for a ride on the cable cars. While we were waiting, a homeless man was wandering along the line trying to sell a newspaper called the Street Sheet, similar to the Big Issue magazine we have over here. Amazingly, out of about a hundred people waiting, Heather and I were the only ones who bought a copy. All these tourists queueing up couldn't spare a dollar to help someone who was trying to help himself rather than just begging, it really infuriated me. There is a huge homeless population in San Francisco, and a lot of them seem to be mentally ill. I ended up keeping all my loose change in my pockets to save me always reaching into my wallet, it was a very sad situation. 
Our turn on the cable car finally arrived. These things are ancient, but beautifully built and maintained. We managed to get a seat on the edge of the car and when it had filled up with people it started its slow ride up the hill. I know these cable cars do this day in and day out but as you are travelings up and down the steep hills it is impossible not to think that it is going to fall apart at any second. Despite these feelings of impending doom it was a thoroughly enjoyable way to see the city close up, like a really slow roller-coaster ride through the streets. The end of the ride was Powell Street, conveniently about ten minutes walk from our hotel. Heather and I were both hungry again so we thought we would eat here and then go back to our hotel. Looking around, we saw a Body Shop with large posters outside advertising their hemp range with slogans like "Hope, not Dope", which we thought was totally in keeping with S.F.s hippy past, and I finally found a video I had been looking for ever since we arrived in the country. Our choice of restaurant that evening was an Italian place called Puccini & Pinetti and, apart from our meal at the Luxor, was the most delicious food we had eaten in America. I also had a really tasty local beer called "Big Daddy" to wash my food down with, while Heather had a very moorish vanilla vodka. Despite being in quite a rough area, our hotel was on a very busy street so we didn't have any trouble walking back. I had only had a quick glance at the room when I dropped the suitcase off earlier. The Aida is cheap, but the rooms are very clean, even if everything in them is a bit old and threadbare. Our room faced the front and we had an excellent view up 7th avenue (and the queue for the methadone clinic as we discovered the next day). |
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