San Francisco

  San Francisco, California, United States
Saturday, November 8, 2008

The last few days have been devoted to various adventures in and around San Francisco as well as to generally lowering the pace of our explorations and catching up on some rest. From Ferndale, where our story left off, we drove on south through continuing wet weather (hoorah!?) and past some more redwood tree attractions. This time we would get to admire some less park-ranger-style spots of forest and some more just-plain-tacky tourist traps.

Inside a redwood house

Drive through tree

The first was a tree house - as in, a house that has been built out of the hollowed out stump of a giant redwood. We ran from the car up the path and down into the dark little room, which we were impressed that we could visit for free, took some photos, signed the guest book, then ran back through the pouring rain to the car. The second and third stops we made were for very similar tree-based offerings, two drive-through trees. Of the two, the second - the "original" drive through tree or "Chandelier Drive-Thru Tree" - was the more impressive since the tree was still growing strong above the perfect tunnel that had been hollowed out at its base and through which we could manoeuvre our car. It was also impressive to think that cars had been driving through the same tree trunk since the 1930s when the tunnel was carved. The only snag in both spots was that to capture the moment on film, one of us had to get out into the deluge, but we had to make sure we could prove that we had been here.


After all these tree treats - and we could have stopped at many, many more along the way had we felt so inclined - we joined a road towards the coast. This turned out to be a ludicrously winding road that bent left, then right, then left, then right, then left again, forever and also climbed high over some hills then dropped down steeply back towards sea level. Progress was slow and honestly rather depressing in this horrible rain and with the view shrouded in fog so that even when we reached the coastline again we could see very little of the sea. We finally got as far as Fort Bragg where there was opportunity to stop for lunch in the first dry and warm looking diner we could spot. While we munched our comfort-food (cheeseburgers and onion rings), we decided to give up on the "scenic road" that hugs the coastline and winds its way slowly the rest of the 150 or so miles we still had left to get to San Francisco. Instead, we drove inland again and got onto the interstate. Still, it was dark by the time we reached the outskirts of the city, but this didn't detract from the thrill of driving in across the bay on the Golden Gate Bridge, easily the most familiar landmark in town. And the hotel, when we finally found it, was a haven of peace and luxury that we couldn't believe we had been able to afford, with some of the friendliest staff we have encountered outside of family-owned motels. Wonderful.


On the first morning that we awoke in San Francisco, we set out on a very, very long exploratory walk of the city. We followed the street that out hotel was on as it dropped steadily down towards the waterfront at the San Francisco Ferry Terminal. From there we followed the piers, past a mixed selection of posh waterfront restaurants and tumble-down warehouses. We eventually came upon Pier 39 where the touristy area of Fisherman's Wharf starts with a colourful array of shops and cafés, a marina filled with tasteful little yachts and a dozen or so large floats absolutely covered in sea lions.

A few sea lions at pier 39

The Balclutha, one of the old ships to explore

These enormous beasts were vying for space on the floats so that they could languish in the warm sunshine and generally just having a good loud chat - and occasional half-hearted fight - with one another. The noise was tremendous, a honk-honk-honking kind of bark that could be heard from an impressive distance. There were easily a couple of hundred sea lions in all and more in the water swimming about, presumably awaiting their turn to bask in the sun. After observing - and listening to - the sea lions for a while, we lunched on tasty crepes and continued our walk. We came to another scenic pier, this one lined with historic boats that we were able to explore for free using our (unbeatable value for money) National Park annual pass.


Then it was time to face the walk back. Although this would be much shorter in distance, since we had already done 3 sides of a square, it was clearly going to be more strenuous. Whereas, until now, we had meandered downhill and then along the flat of the waterfront, we were presently faced with one of San Francisco's mighty hills. The first section was so steep it didn't seem plausible that houses had been built along the road or that cars or the trolley bus - or indeed ourselves - could scale it.

Steep hills and street cars

The crookedest street

Luckily there was the easy excuse of needing to stop regularly to take photos of the view emerging behind us. Near the top, we came upon another of San Francisco's familiar spots: the "crookedest street". Another steep section of hill, someone had deemed this too treacherous for cars to descend in a straight line and had instead built a "crooked", winding road that zigzagged all the way down it. We walked down the steps next to this street while happily watching the cars make their way slowly down it, twisting and turning their wheels in a careful path that can be likened to exiting a multistorey carpark. Once at the bottom, we looked up ahead to the street we had to follow next and were dismayed to see that we would need to gear ourselves up for another serious climb. Fortunately this was the last big hill that we had to conquer, then it was downhill all the way to our hotel.


Back at the hotel we could only permit ourselves a short rest, then it was time to find somewhere to eat - somewhere with a big TV. It was FINALLY election day. After putting up with over 2 months of political campaigning and advertising on the TV and radio, ever since we got to the US, we could finally watch to see what effect this had had on voters. We ate in a restaurant near Union Square in the bustling theatre and shopping district, but the televisions had their sound muted and the colours were also slightly off, so when we were finished we set out in search of a more suitable TV-viewing location. We found a cozy bar, the Luch Lounge, close to our hotel where we joined a couple of dozen locals watching the results come in. There was loud cheering and applause every time Obama won a few more electoral points. He was out in front and edging towards the target of 270 or more. Then something quite strange happened and suddenly it was all over. At eight pm Pacific Time, the polling stations closed in several states on the west coast, including California (good for 55 electoral points!). And within a millisecond after the polls closed, CNN announced that Obama was projected to win the Presidency and that was that. No vote counting, the so-called "exit polls" were apparently reliable enough to predict that Obama had taken California and several other states in the west-coast region, something that arguably could have been predicted several weeks ago. And this "projection" wasn't just good enough for CNN to call the winner, it was good enough for everyone and soon it was announced that McCain had admitted defeat and congratulated Obama. Before Alaska had even closed its polling stations, McCain had already made his concession speech and Obama was lining up to make his. Bizarre and somehow a slightly anticlimax after so many months of tension. But it was the result that so many people had been waiting for and we were pleased too. There was much clapping and cheering in the bar we were sitting in when it was announced, then the patrons all went back to their cocktails and chat. We headed back to our hotel, wondering if the results were real and picked up a bottle of Californian sparkling wine to enjoy as we watched the rest of the evening unfold from the comfort of our hotel room. We listened to Obama's speech, heard newscaster after newscaster discuss the historic-ness of this day for America and saw pictures of people partying in the streets across the country including in several districts of San Francisco. We finally went to bed, satisfied that the results must now be set in stone and happy to have watched a new page in the civil rights movement in America unfold before our eyes. Having learnt all about the severe struggles of the 1960s during our visits to Selma and Montgomery and seen the spot where Martin Luther King Jr was assassinated in 1968, it was reassuring to know that 40 years later the country (or at least enough voters to make it happen) had elected an African-American man into the office of President. It will be fascinating to see what a change this makes in years to come.


The jubilation that followed the successful election of Obama was dampened quite severely in the days to come when it was discovered that Californians had passed an amendment to their state's constitution called "Proposition 8". This amendment, passed certainly in part thanks to the high turn-out at the polls of Obama supporters from hispanic background whose traditional family values are very strong, would forbid same-sex marriage. For the past few months, gay and lesbian couples in California have been taking advantage in great numbers of a ruling by the state's Supreme Court that deemed the prohibition of same-sex marriage to be discriminatory and therefore unconstitutional. Proposition 8 would change the constitution by stating clearly that marriage is an institution between a man and a woman, thereby - as the massive "No on 8" campaign pointed out again and again - writing inequality into the constitution. The passing of Proposition 8 was a huge disappointment and for the remainder of the nights that we were in San Francisco, the news broadcasted pictures of protests in the city and in other locations along the coast. Election day in America - a good day for progress and tolerance and a bad day for progress and tolerance, all at once.


We spent many more hours during the rest of our stay in San Francisco wandering around the beautiful city. We also explored the bay, participating in two very enjoyable, very touristy activities: a visit to Alcatraz and a bike ride across the Golden Gate Bridge. Yesterday, we boarded a ferry to Alcatraz with what seemed like an impossibly large crowd of other tourists but they were clearly still well below maximum capacity - in fact, during the weekend or in high season we may not have been able to just roll up on the day and buy tickets at the dock, but we were able to join the very next boat.

Alcatraz

A cell tunneled out of in the 1962 escape

San Francisco from behind locked bars in Alcatraz

One of the watchtowers on Alcatraz

Anyway, we were ferried to the island together with one hundred plus other eager visitors. Once on the small, rocky island, we joined a ranger talk to hear all about the 1962 escape attempt from Alcatraz that was recreated in the film, you guessed it, "Escape from Alcatraz". This turned out to be just one of 14 escape attempts over the years, involving a total of 36 convicts, and the only one that may have been successful. "May" have been, because no-one knows. The getaway plans were highly elaborate involving digging tunnels, clambering over the rooftops and deploying a raft built from raincoats. But to this day, the plight of the escapees is still unknown. They have never been seen or heard from again, dead or alive. Once the ranger had finished his storytelling, it was time to enter the prison proper. We picked up an audio tour and wandered around the cell block where we were told about the lives of the prisoners and their guards and other famed escape attempts. It was quite an eerie place, but so full of meandering tourists with headphones on that it couldn't really give you the creeps too badly.


We spent today, our last in San Francisco, exploring some other sections of the bay by bike. We picked up bicycles near to Fisherman's Wharf and joined the cycle track that hugs the waterfront all the way to the Golden Gate Bridge. A lovely ride, we were promised, "flat all the way".

Golden Gate Bridge and us

Fort Point nestled under the bridge

It's a long way across the bridge...

Proof: Laura on a bike

Well, that was not entirely true, almost immediately we had to scale a small hill, but once we made it to the top (admittedly not on her bike, in Laura's case), we were rewarded with a nice stretch of freewheeling down the other side. We past some fabulous stretches of golden beach where lots of people (suspicious numbers, for a Friday morning) were walking their dogs, going for a jog or just lounging around in the sunshine. Further on, directly under the shadow of Golden Gate Bridge, we came upon Fort Point, a military fort dating from the American Civil War that never really saw all that much action. From the roof of the fort we could get a close-up view of the underbelly of the bridge as well as peering round the headland to the rugged beaches outside the sheltered San Francisco bay. Back on our bikes, we had another hill to deal with - we had to make our way up to the level of the bridge which hangs high above the sea so as to allow large ships to pass beneath it. From the bridge we had a fantastic view across the bay to Alcatraz and the city of San Francisco behind it. And the bridge itself was mercifully flat which meant that once we had ascended the hill to access it, the rest of the way was an easy ride. On the other side, we free-wheeled all the way down to the fishing village below where we feasted on a very well-earned pizza lunch.


Time was pressing on and we joined the queue for the ferry back to the city, along with many, many other intrepid cyclists. Disappointingly this ferry had very little room for bikes, so we had to wait for the next one, but this was actually a blessing in disguise. After waiting the hour for the next boat on a bench in the warm afternoon sun, not too bad an occupation in itself, we were treated to one of San Francisco's common yet very special sights: an encroaching fog. Just as the ferry was coming into the dock, the mist started to pour into the bay from the opening to the ocean, flowing under the Golden Gate Bridge. It crept across the surface of the water, heading in a straight line across the bay, straight towards Alcatraz island, until there was a thick band of fog in place. As the boat made its way out of the harbour we could see the bridge, a view that had been obscured by the headland. Sure enough, the fog was clinging so successfully to the water that the bridge still poked out above it, forming a dark red silouette against the glowing sky behind.

The fog creeping into the bay

The bridge emerging from the mist

Fog rolling over Alcatraz

San Francisco skyline at twilight

The sun was setting slowly behind the fog, giving it a pinky tinge and further adding to the glorious scene. Then we were enveloped by the fog, cooling the air dramatically and chasing us inside from our spot on the open-aired stern of the boat. But within minutes we re-emerged from the fog and the city of San Francisco was awaiting up. We went back outside, this time at the bow and watched the sparkling lights of the city and the darkening dusk sky. What a day and what a way to end our stay here!