San Francisco - Day 3

Today we headed to Alcatraz. A bit of a walk to Pier 33, on our pre booked trip. You have to pre book. There are literally 100 people arriving every 25-30 mins throughout the day by ferry, each of which is booked up. Soooo many people heading to 'The Rock'. Scene of Clint Eastwood's famous escape film. You know the one. 

So we took a very packed boat, all wearing masks because it's going to a federal place. Where there is absolutely no food, no eating or drinking (except water) allowed. 

To make it to Alcatraz, the prison, you had to have met a couple of criteria:

1. Committed a federal crime. 

2. Been a difficult inmate in another prison and so moved. 

I feel as if I could have made it. 

Prior to being a prison it was an army base. Constructed to protect San Francisco and the bay area. Later army prisoners and conscientious objectors were (often cruelly) housed there. If you refused to fight in 1918, you could be shipped there, kept in a 'coffin cell' (clue on size in the name) for 14 days, fed on bread and water with no toilet and no bed. Oh. And you wouldn't be let out for the entire fortnight. Some inmates were still there after the war had ended. 

The army prisoners were different. They were allowed to do jobs like babysit the children of the guards who also lived on the island. As you do. 

Native American peoples were also shipped there if they refused to get off their lands. Or give up their children on demand. It's a place with a cheery history. 

Once the army left the government took it on as a full prison. They built a group of cells 3 'streets' wide and three layers tall. With a separate area for 'treatment' of psychopathic/ very difficult individuals. There was a recreational area, a dining room where prisoners were very well fed actually, a library, a large kitchen and a visitation suite. There were gardens and places for the staff to live. 

The streets were called Broadway, Madison Avenue and a place I understood to be called Seedy Street. This was until I saw the sign and realised that, due to the block coding, it was actually C-D Street. 

When we arrived Ranger Benny gave us an orientation walk, then Ranger Wendy took us for a short tour towards the audio tour pick up place. I lost NN2 for about 20 mins when I went to the loo and he was still on the tour. Walked around asking staff if they had seen 'a lad in red converse'. When found his  response to this was, 'what d'you do that for?'

Anyway, the tour was good. Informative and interesting. In the film Clint hatches a plan to escape on a raft made of raincoats which were stitched together. THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED. The idea came from a magazine the inmates read in the library called something like, Mechanics Monthly, in which readers were shown step by step instructions on how to make a raft out of raincoats. 

One of the escapees was a barber, who saved the hair he chopped off his customers to make three hairy heads to hide in the beds and fool the night guards. They escaped by tunnelling out of the wall with drills (spoons were mentioned, but not sure where they came into it), shinning up an inside vent and down an outside drain. Then they paddled two miles on their raincoat raft. Their clothes were found in a nearby island, so authorities came to the conclusion that they had drowned. The actual outcome is a mystery.. 

Finally, (which could have had a bigger part in the exhibition) was the impact Alcatraz had on the rights of Native Americans. There was a law in the last century which said that if the government were not using federal lands they could be returned to the Native peoples. However, the government always broke these laws. So, to demonstrate about this, a group of Native Americans and sympathisers moved to the island and lived there for 19 months. They were well supported (Jane Fonda sent them generators) and it was well publicised. The effects of their stay was an awakening of the rights of Native peoples across the US. I was told today. 

Following the audio tour, we wandered down and took the ferry back. On the way we stopped and had some dim sum. Which NN2 thought was OK. 

After a brief trip back to the hotel, we decided to catch a cable car. I was very excited about this! The cars have been running for 150 years. They go up and down the steepest streets using wooden blocks as breaks. These are levered down towards the floor and you know they are working when you smell burning wood (only 3 brake accidents in 150 years!).  They cars are also beautifully made out of wood. When travelling, if you want to stand on the external running board you can. I did. It was very exhilarating. 

We're both thrilled. 

Tomorrow we are moving on, so needed to organise a bit. We packed our dirty laundry and I brought it down to one of the launderettes. I quite like a launderette. I treated myself to a cold drink and I'm sat here writing today's blog. 

Root beer is..unusual and has a taste I'd like to describe as medicinal. 

NN2 has popped off to the shops. He came back with two t-shirts, a hoodie and some new sweets.

San Francisco - Day 2

So... Today I kicked a girl, then tried to run her over.

Thursday: bike tour across the Golden Gate Bridge. 

It was great and educational. 

We saw a number of great birds too, blue heron, black crowned heron and flocks of pelicans, which I was very excited about. 

We cycled around the edge of the bay, past the marina and up to the bridge. On the way we past the Palace of Arts. 

Posin' at the Palace. 

A Big Tree. 

Then we cycled on. The day was clear and balmy. Apparently its quite changeable and can be very foggy.

A highlight of the pre-bridge part of the tour were seeIng Coit Tower. Funded by Lillie Hitchcock Coit in memory of the fire fighters of the city. 

From Wiki: "Firebelle Lil" Coit was considered eccentric, smoking cigars and wearing trousers, long before it was socially acceptable for women to do so. She was an avid gambler and often dressed like a man in order to gamble in the male-only establishments.

Another kick ass broad who contributed to the development of the city. 

The bridge is called the Golden Gate as a nod to all those gold seekers and was built in the 1930s. It's colour (which is named International Orange) is because of the rust primer which was applied to the metal. They liked the colour, so didn't paint over it - though the army wanted it to be black and yellow.

i like the fact that Welsh and French both share the same word for bridge: pont. 

Puente for the Spanish. 

Ponte for Corsicans and Italians. 

Alahaka if you're Hawaiian. 

Zubia if you're Basque. 

Hashi for the Japanese. 

Most for the Bosnian. 

Splendidly, if you come from Somalia, its Buundada. 

And if you're Danish, it's Bro.

The alahaka is interesting to cross. A bit blummin windy, but we had amazing views of Alcatraz, the San Franciscan sky line and expensive Sauslito. 

 On the puente. 

It think it's better to cycle the hashi. Walking feels like it would be long and punishing and driving seems too short. So..yes..cycle the bro. 

After we crossed the zubia, we stopped at a view point. Where we saw the skyline of the city and quite a lot of litter in a blackberry bush. 

This is where THE INCIDENT happened. I did not kick her on the buundada, but waited til the other side, whilst getting off the bike in a wobbly fashion. I ninja-d her shoulder whilst narrowly missing her face. 

Mitigating factors:

1. The bike ride was a total of 20 miles (TWENTY) and we were near the end. I was knackered - also I didn't realise it was so far, I probably would have thought twice..

2. She was on a bike behind me. I couldn't see her. 

3. I have small legs. How on earth was she so close? Who knows. 

I then let the poor girl go ahead of me. Where she promptly fell off her bike on a steep hill and I 'nudged' her food with my tyre. Awful. 

And while I was at the front of the pack attacking a Belgian, NN2 was at the back. Moaning about 'Downton Abbey' (his nickname for a woman with a posh, southern accent), who kept stopping 'every two minutes' during the descent. 

Oh, it was all jolly good fun. 

We then arrived in pretty Sauslito. I grabbed an ice cream but we had to leave by ferry ASAP as it was imperative that we visit the Converse shop. Imperative, I tell you. 

We walked back to the other side of town (more bloody exercise), where NN2 got some kickin' footwear which he is very pleased with. 

Oh, and we randomly passed a small vintage Porsche and Alfa Romeo garage

San Francisco. - Day 1.

I think there was a song, maybe from the 60s, 'If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear a flower in your hair.'

We arrived in San Francisco. We did not wear flowers in our hair. But I was wearing middle aged lady dungerees and Nephew Number 2 ('NN2') was in possession of a bucket hat.

On the BART (train). 

I was expecting a city which felt quite Bohemian. We landed in the middle of China Town (hotel OK, noisy road outside) which was quite sprawling, with a lot of souvenir and general merchandise shops. We ate a good burrito and had an early night.

Breakfast was cheap but good. 

Bacon and eggs. 

Let down by an underwhelming beverage, whose taste could be described in three words (if you're an 18 year old from Yorkshire) as: healthy, skin, unflavourable. 

Poor effort. 

10am Wednesday morning was a walking tour. Oh my, I love a walking tour! I go with Free Tours and the concept is that you tip the guide whatever you think it's worth/can afford. They are generally very good. This one was excellent.

Our guide, Filip, told us about Alma Spreckels, the 'grandmother of San Francisco', a young woman of Danish origin. Growing up in a town where the ratio of women to men sometimes reached 1:70, she recognised her assets. Became an artist's model so that she could fund her own education. Was very well paid. Met a wealthy sugar magnate who fell head and shoulders in love with her. To court her, the 45 year old bought the 19 year old everything she could possibly want. She coined the term 'My Sugar Daddy' and married him. Other rich wives despised her (youth, exuberance and pure front?). 

In an effort to garner the respect of the elite, she took a ship to Paris (via the Cape Horn, a dangerous 15000 mile journey before the Panama Canal was built) to collect French arts and furniture. Instead, she returned from Paris a couple of years later with 88 young women (of easy virtue). Many of whom she helped marry off into the higher echelons of society (others operated or worked in brothels). Thereby securing her own social status and providing San Francisco with a group of rich wives who told their husbands to re-build the city in a European style after if was all but razed in the 1906 earthquake.

It looks very European.

It is only 172 years old. 

It was founded by the Spanish, who built a mission. 

It has one of the very few natural ports long the west coast. 

America paid Mexico (after a big war where the US won) 15 million (actual price, not today's equivalent) for the Western Coast of the US, just before gold was discovered in the Sierra Nevada. 

It smells of hash. Everywhere. 

It is very liberal. 

You can really do what you like, as long as you don't bother anyone.

Pokemon Go was invented in an office here, by the same man who created Google Maps. 

There was an old law saying that any ship owner owned the land under his ship. This made sure that people who owned ships often remained in the city, moored ships permanantly and (instead of taking their Sierra Nevada gold home) they built businesses onboard. As the city progressed the ships were frequently sunk and land was in-filled above. Buildings were built over the ships with masts on. Since 1963 there has been a law to excavate any found ships during building works. Since then 47 ships have been found under buildings and remain under sky scrapers. Ships under skyscrapers. 

China Town. 

The US brought over a load of Chinese people to work the railways after the Irish immigrant army couldn't finish it because they invariably died of cholera - you don't get cholera if you boil the water to make tea. The Chinese worked twice as fast for a quarter of the wage. When the railways were finished the US government issued an act preventing anyone of Chinese origin from owning land, marrying a citizen, becoming a citizen, working in many professions, being educated. They were forced to live in ghettos. 

This continued until the 1906 San Francisco earthquake (for 50 odd years), the town of San Francisco decided to move the Chinese ghetto 18 miles out of the city. The Chinese people (who mainly worked in the ports and who mainly sailed the ships) managed to get the Emprrss of China to help them. She sent over a delegation of high ranking officials from the chamber of commerce. They negotiated with the city governors. They explained how the Chinese would not work in the port or sail the ships if they were moved.

Commerce would be affected. 

A street. 

Money talks. 

The governors listened. They gave the Chinese population a parcel of land, but told them they had to build it up themselves (whereas the rest of the city they covered with a 'City Beautiful' project). The Chinese rebuilt their area of the city using American architects, but Chinese accents. These were pagoda rooves, balconies out front, a gate way to China Town, lanterns. It worked. The Chinese also rebuilt much of the city.

China Towns across the world were modelled on the style of quarter rebuilt in San Francisco. That's why China Towns mainly have the same features.

Every tour comes with a fortune cookie.. 

NN2's

Homelessness. 

There is a homeless problem here. 

Started by Ronald Reagan (when he was governor) removing money for mental health facilities. Hospitals closed and people were turned out on the streets all across California. It caused huge problems. Obvs.

The city of San Francisco decided to set up its own provisions (as did many places in Calufornia). The richest companies are taxed to provide for the poorest. This includes health care, treatment and accommodation. It's THE ONLY place in the US to provide free health care to anybody.

As a result, other states across the US gave their homeless one way bus tickets and some small change ($50) to send them to California. Nowadays homeless people are helped immensely (plenty of hugely rich tech companies to tax). However, if you are an addict no-one is going to stand up and stop you, because the San Francisco way is that you get to live your life. If you want to do drugs, you get to decide when (if) to stop. 

Homeless man sleeps at fountain... 

.. while I insist on having my photo taken. 

The whole fountain. 

However, if you are clean for 3 months you get a place to live and a job helping other addicts. Filip is convinced that if a strategy is found to help homelessness it will come from San Francisco.

Another law to love: Popos (Privately Owned, Public Open Spaces).

Amazingly, in this city there is a law that any office block must have (at a ration to 50:1 Square footage) a garden which is open to the people on work days. There are just over 70 beautiful, secret gardens in offices across the city. You can visit any one you like on any work day.

That was the tour. We learnt plenty more. 

Two take tour. 

Many take tour. 

Following the tour, we did an orange tasting session.

And why not?

Oranges are not the only fruit. 

This wasn't some organised affair.

Just NN2 and I with a few oranges. 

His 3 word verdict (from left to right):

Australian: different, filling, pineapple. 

Florida: empty, light, local. 

Origin unknown: England, enough, full. 

We met a woman called Tahnee Proudfoot, with a Harris Hawk who has urban contracts to manage pests - pigeons. Her dad is a Geordie. We asked her about great places out of town to visit. She asked us about good places to see when she goes to Wales next year. Beautiful hawk. Lovely lady. Amazing name. 

Tahnee and her hawk. 

We walked along the waterfront.

The Bay Bridge: As much front as Alma Spreckels. 

A Street. 

Then we went shopping and - between us - tried every pair of jeans in the Levi's store I think. Jostling the French holiday makers to find what we wanted. It was exhausting but fun. Even better when there was a 30% off plus 15% off deal at the check out. Whoop. 

NN2 was also on the lookout for a bum bag. Which is now worn (in case you hipsters don't know) diagonally across the chest. Of course, in the US they are not known as bum bags. I took a fantastically puerile delight in asking to see a shop's collection.

A selection of fanny packs. 

We did a lot of walking. 

Finished the day at an Egyptian food place. Ate. Went back to the hotel. Went to bed. Zzzzzz

Tourists report surfeit of forks when presented with Egyptian meal. Onlookers query a pyramid scheme amongst suppliers. *

A street at night. 

*'At least I could eat my tea' stated the diner. 'So that was pharoah-enough.'

In other news:

Apparently the dog is missing me terribly...