USA West coast road trip - Part 1 - San Francisco

Day 1

The bus is full of Hispanic and the signs in Spanish. With the help of the jet lag, my brain could easily think I'm in South America. But I'm not. I've landed at the San Francisco airport half an hour ago and now I'm in the Sam Trans bus to the city center. I'm the only white person with a suitcase, it's clearly a workers’ bus. After a one hour journey,  I stop at 4th street. I need to walk to the 10th which takes me a good 20mins of dragging my red suitcase but I don't mind. I'm on holidays for three weeks and nothing or nobody will spoil that. With a huge smile, I face the inhabitants walking in and out of work or stores.

My fingers are sore when I buzz in. Our host, Diego, explains where the key is hidden as he's still at work. As always when Couch surfing, I wonder if I'll end up in a dump or a palace. A strong smell catches me when I walk in the building and I'm starting to think it will be the first one. But I reconsider when the door opens on a vast and newly refurbished looking loft. Exhausted, I lay on the sofa for a few minutes.

Two hours later, the door opens and I hear three sets of foot stepping in. Two of them belong to my travel partners who arrived with a later flight. I welcome them and introduce myself to our host, face to face this time. The evening is easy as the three of us are completely jet lagged.  We have dinner at home, eating Chinese and listening to Diego's good advises.

Sausalito boat houses

Day 2

I wake up as the sun shine through the huge windows covered with thin curtains. After a long and complex discussion about the weather and what to wear, we set off and get lost searching for a coffee place. We ask a German sounding man who give us directions and end up having a quick breakfast in someone's kitchen (or so it seemed). We then take the tube to the Pier 1 where we have decided to rent bikes. Enjoying the wind's blow, we ride along the bay through the Pier 39 which reminds us of a little Disneyland. Sometimes walking next to our bikes, we follow the hills up to the Golden gate. My fear of height pushes me to cross the magnificent red bridge as fast as I can whilst the girls stops to take pictures. The gap between us gets even bigger when we bike downhill. It's their turn to be scared as I speed down to Sausalito. Before discovering the beautiful colours and styles of the Marina boat houses, we stop by the Napa Valley Burger Co. Time to taste my first burger in the United States (it actually tastes like any average burger).

Few buses with bikes rakes drive next to us and we decide to hop in one for the way back. The driver helps us get ours fixed then nicely let us ride free as we haven't yet made any change and he won't take our bills. We stop after the brigde and ride down to the very Roman, Palace of Fine arts. 

After a second stop at Pier 39 to wave at the sea lions, we hurry to bring the bikes on time. The guy invites us for a drink in an Asian bar right behind Pier 1. We agree. It's not my kind of place but I never say no to a beer wherever I drink it. 

Less than two hours later we head back home. On the way, we walk past an old man wearing his shoes, a backpack and nothing else. We are so shocked (out of surprise not judgment) we hardly believe it. Nobody around us seem to notice. We will later learn that it is allowed to walk around naker in San Francisco*. 

For the evening, Diego has planned to take us dinner with his friends. We are exhausted but accept out of politeness. Mistake. We have to take a cab to get to the restaurant where we eat without listening to the conversation, only trying not to fall face first in our plates. Then get a ride back home.

Six painted ladies

Day 3

I'm still completely jet lag. I wish I wasn't. I want to be full of energy to enjoy this amazing city but my body and brain all scream in chorus: sleep sleep SLEEP!! I keep bumping in everything; I drag my feet and can only thank my friend for keeping me from falling head first a few times. By the time we sit for breakfast at Stacks in Hayes Valley, I've got more bruises on my body than a retired All Black player. The plates are huge, too big for our little European stomachs and I'm ashamed at the waste.

The day goes pretty quickly with our Argentinian host nicely driving us through many stops, some nicer than others. Alamo square and the cute six painted ladies; the modern cathedral; the disappointing Japan center where seeing half naked Sumo was a highlight; the mythic Twin Peaks; the Golden Gate park; the "ugly or I should say, created with a style which is not my cup of tea" M. H. de Young memorial museum; Ouest park; Sutro heights park; the posh Sea cliff houses; Sud Presidio; the George Lucas studio where my Star wars fan of a friend bowed in front of a Yoda statue and the don't-get-drunk-there Lombard street.

No need to say that after that, my exhaustion was back. I decide to have a nap before dinner and am awaken by the sound of people laughing as two of Diego's friend came in. After approximately 2 second of internal debate, I conclude that my body is more important than social rules therefore ignore them and sleep some more. The rest of the night clearly confirms my initial instinct. We decided to head out to the delirium but our lack of ID forced us into the Valencia RnB bar. After a few drinks, we accept the failure of our evening and head back home.

Boat sailing in front of Golden gate bridge

Day 4
The four of us are meeting Mat at Fort Masson. The brown haired couch surfer nicely offered to take us to across the bay with his sailing boat. The outbound is very relaxing. As it did the previous days, the sun is shining and we have an incredible view on the bridge. The inbound is a little bit more complicated. Caroline gets very uncomfortable as the little boat is nearly standing on 90degrees. She keeps waving the sea away without much success. At some point we have to take over as Mat need a toilet break. In the circumstances he needs to do it in a bucket. Us girls and our shy bladder syndrome couldn't imagine succeeding such attempt. Just as Mat managed to let himself be, drops of water came to Caroline's face getting us to crack up laughing.

Not without some scares, we finally got back to the port. Thanking once again, Couch surfing for all the good people and opportunity it put on our way. Diego drops us at the Union square from which we slowly walk home. Tonight, we are cooking to thank our host. Well, to be honest, the girls cooked while I was having another one of my famous naps. For my defense, I'm not a great cook so it was probably best for everyone's sakes.

Day 5.1

Last day in San Francisco. We walk to Clarion street to admire the art that covers its walls.  Then we greet the gay area of Casto which is quite discreet compared to Soho. Finally we end up in the Marijuana filled hippies street of Haight and Ashbury where the time seems to stop at 4.20pm.

Before we know it, it's time to head back to the airport. We're all gutted to leave. As soon as we set a foot here, we fall in love with the city. We cheer up by thinking of all the other incredible places we are going to see.

That's when we get to the Avis desk and are told the reservation we have made through a third party provider is not in their system.

A road trip without a car? Hum...that's going to be fun!

                                                                                                             To be continued....

* The law will be changed a few month later and now, sadly for our old friend, it is not allowed to be naked in San Francisco anymore.