We didn't see no damned gentle people with flowers in their hair...

So we were planning on writing a bit of blog as we went, but we’re currently on a road trip and so, well, sod writing a blog, right? Old story: so much to do, so little time – we limited ourselves to 3 weeks (which was cut short in a variety of ways) to do a road trip that, in all fairness, should probably have been done over about double the time. Not to mention, camping in the middle of the desert isn’t exactly conducive to frequent electricity or internet access…

But then Bishtackleworth made us realise that we should at least have some sort of communication running, so here’s a start…


Touched down in San Francisco hours before we left Brisbane, high on alcohol, low on sleep. Wandered the airport searching for the bus stop, found a car park (Warning! Chemicals in this area are known to cause cancer and birth defects.) A good deal of walking and several sets of directions later we were on a bus with Jesus – madder than we ever expected the son of God to be. (He entered the bus proclaiming, “I AM JESUS,” before commencing singing and combing of His crew cut in the convex mirror near the exit door, back bent backwards at 45° and swaying both with the bus and of His own accord).

The hostel was on Ellis Street, home to the city’s homeless population – more homeless people were encountered that morning that had been encountered on the entire European Trip of Doom – and around the corner from Edinburgh Castle. Far from grand and beautiful, this version of the castle was dingy, smelt like old soggy, rotting feet (we think it was the cheap fish and chips), and served a deliciously priced yet far from delicious beverage. Has anyone tried Tetley’s?? That inferior, cheap and nasty British ale… Well, think Tetley’s, but with an aftertaste of dishwashing detergent.

Intending to stay 3 nights, we ended up staying 6 – not because we loved it so much we couldn’t bear to leave, but because we saved somewhere in the vicinity of $1000 by hiring the car that much later – but that comes later. Sans car, we set off to walking through the charming and very hilly streets of San Fran. Until we discovered the bus; then we set off bussing about the charming and less-noticeably hilly streets of San Fran. Walking through the streets, up and down the hills of Downtown and towards the bay, the quaint charm of San Francisco became clearer: old style Fire Alarm boxes and Police telephones are present on many street corners, the quintessential cable cars still run up and down the hills, and bay views, framed by oaks, elms and maple trees (and probably other less recognizable and less immediately-identifiable trees) and the typical San Fran houses with their jutting bay windows, are impressive and difficult to catch on film without a wide lens and an expensive camera.
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We stumbled upon Lombard street (a very windy and apparently very famous street) by accident and found that the wharf is exactly where you want to be if you want to find tourists yelling at each other, rip-off hotdogs, and mothers and aunts singing a chorus of tone-deaf nursery rhymes (sometimes to the wrong tune) to children. We took some pictures, but thankfully no movies. A trip to the Aquarium of the Bay, a camera-less visit to Alcatraz (Andrew now knows to actually check that he has the camera), an encounter with Igignaut and Err, a stroll across the famous red bridge and back, and a beer-, bourbon- and blues-filled night in ‘The Saloon’ (movie below) saw us done with San Fran and heading forward, not backward, upward, not forward, and always twirling, twirling, twirling towards freedom.

The Saloon