Woke up in the AM. Grumbled. Did not want to leave San Francisco, did not want to leave that hotel, did not want to drive. Grumble extra Grumble. Have some time before I need to check out of the hotel (it has a deliciously late check-out time of noon!) since I woke up a little after 9, so I harness the mutt and off we go.
I'm still high off last nights late night trot around the city and the magic of San Francisco doesn't seem to have lost anything with the light. Sometimes dawn is like natures way of knocking off yer beer goggles - the bartender flips the lights on at closing time, and you Bella is more Bertha and you really don't need to finish the remaining finger and a half of Jameson, and sometimes you fall in love with a idea and not the reality.
Not this time.
We walk, we jog, across flat streets and up hills, zigging and zagging with no particularly direction in mind.
I love the ivy that grows up the sides of so many buildings. Unlike Vegas, where we pay housing associations to force us to punish the enviable perseverance of weeds who manage to push their little heads up through rocks and parched dirt by spraying them with poision, San Francisco doesn't mind a little greenery. Seriously, the Jack in the Box had
huge flower boxes out front.
A niche market I didn't know existed.
Young deliquent love.
And lo and behold, we accidentally stumble on China Town! And so we went...
this figures guarded the entrance to the street, one on each side.
On the left, pretty shit that I cannot afford. On the right, shit I can afford but do not want.
There are tons of shops on the main drag featuring everything from cheap souvenirs to high end furniture, art and chandeliers. Jewelry store windows have the kind of jewelry I like - big stones set in silver, a proliferation of jade of course, but pretty much everything else you can think of as well, in every color. The dog saved me much money, as he can't go in many shops, but I did by some lovely old style (they're replicas but look like hand done watercolors) postcards and my little personal treat:
50 cents for the penny squashing machine, plus one penny to squash = happy Alana.
Trolleys!
Well it IS San Francisco... ;)
These things are called Go Cars (http://www.gocartours.com/sanfrancisco/)
You can rent them by the hour and tool around the city. They're relatively cheap, starting at $49 an hour, decreasing in hourly price after the intial 60 minutes. The even have discounted group rates for groups of 6 or more, which leaves me with lovely mental images of like, 20 business dudes zipping around the city in this little banana rockets. And you thought YOUR mandatory business activities were bad.
The cars are cool though, or so it seems, as they come equipped with a talking-GPS system that guides you around the city in the language of your choice.
I can't imagine these things tackling a hill.
And then..... it was time to leave. So back to the hotel to re-pack the car, and say goodbye.
We loved you San Francisco... we leave your our heart.
Oh but wait!!! Golden Gate Bridge:
First glimpse
On the bridge
As we travelled north, the scenery changed to rolling hills dotted with trees and then to wine country. Just as I noticed the vineyards start popping up, eventually flanking both sides of the road, I realized the smell of the air had changed. Gone was the fresh, salty smell of the sea. Instead the air smelled... sweet. Like fresh cut grass and grapes. You could seriously smell the groups. It's a clean, natural scent I haven't encountered in so long.
Various vineyards, some big and stretching for a couple miles, some much smaller, on flat land and up hills.
Farther up, we get nearer to Mendocino and Redwood country. The 101 becomes the funhouse of highways - turns are not necessarily what they appear. You think you're at a fine speed and then you turn a corner and you're a nose hair away from a logging truck and he grins his three teeth at you, and you suddenly realize you have way more enamel to lose so you swerve and hug your side of the road (but not too close because its a steep and tree-filled Sonny Bono type disaster waiting to happen outside that passenger door) and Buck zooms past you. You exhale, adjust the adult diaper your earlier road trip experiences has taught you is a necessity for the duration of the journey and soldier on.
Just kidding about the adult diaper - because this is also the strech of road where Alana baptizes the great outdoors with the most natural of man made waters. Twice. :D
It was a long drive today, a little over 6 hours, so when we finally pulled into Ft Bragg, I was exhausted. We were booked into the Super 8, which was more than adequate for us. The front desk staff was very friendly, the room clean and warm, and I was asleep in minutes.
I woke up an hour and a half or so later, around 8:00 or so. Dusk was approaching, and I realized I hadn't seen a coastal sunset yet so we jumped in the car and headed to one of the numerous beach areas. There was a walkway that spanned the wash where is spilled into the sea, with bluffs on both sides, so we went onto the bridge to watch the sun set.
And then I realized I hadn't eaten, so we went in search of food. And searched. And searched. Little did I know that everything in Ft Bragg closes at like, noon during the week. Every restaurant I pulled up to was flipping the Open signs to Screw You, Go Home. I went to the grocery store, but really wanted something hot and not previously frozen, so decided on the diner attached to the hotel - a short step up from Denny's, by the looks of it, but hot, and supposedly that short step was towards homemade and away from the freezer.
Except good ole Perko's closes at 9 now, not the advertised 10. You know what was open? McDonalds. Friggin McDonalds. So for dinner I had a Big n Tasty, no sauce, a medium fry and a glass of Pinot Grigio. Delish.
Back to the hotel, where I watch poor Jimmy Fallon bomb again (he was such a lovely fellow back in NY; despite the coke habit he was a real sweetheart - but the show? sigh), and drifted off into sleep.
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