The drive is uneventful, other than getting used to certain American driving traits: the way that nobody uses a slow-to-fast lane system; the way trucks often weave around; the way the bloody car keeps changing gear at the wrong time. I’m also fighting a very sore neck that developed over the previous couple of days, and which makes checking mirrors a rather painful experience. It’s a pain that’s to stay with me for a week until a chiropractor in Folsom is able to crack my spine back into place.
Negotiating San Francisco’s road system is relatively straightforward. Other than missing a couple of turns, and then struggling with one-way systems around the blocks, we arrive relatively unscathed at a parking lot near the hotel we’ve booked into. Tom wisely advised us to park the car ourselves in a nearby parking lot, rather than use the hotel parking or valet, and that piece of advice saves us a fair amount of cash. We tell the car park attendant that we’ll probably be one night but maybe two: we’re hoping to meet up with Ceese if she has time to get to us after work, and we ourselves don’t know how long we’ll want to spend here. We’ve booked one night at the hotel but figure we can extend the stay if we want to.
We take our bags and wheel them to the Clift Hotel, a block or so from the main shopping district of San Francisco. It’s a fancy boutique hotel, and we need to take our sunglasses off to see inside. Even then the low lighting and black marble makes it difficult to see Reception Staff are friendly and helpful: they advise us that if we wish to stay for an extra night it’d be cheaper to go online and book it through Expedia rather than paying hotel desk prices!
We take the lift to our room; the lifts have lighting as dark as the main lobby, one in green, one red and one blue. It becomes an ongoing game to see which colour we get. The room is lovely: certainly no expense has been spared on decorating and equipping this hotel. We don’t stay for long, though, as we’ve got a city to explore!
We decide to try and combine a general explore of the downtown shopping area with finding a tourist map of the city and buying a mobile phone. We’d planned on buying a phone out here as we knew the American and Canadian weren’t compatible with our UK phones and sim cards. We know we must buy the phone today so that we can text Ceese about possibly meeting up while we’re in town and she isn’t far away (San Jose to our San Francisco).
We find the main street (or, as we later realise, one thereof) and it has tourist-designed signs towards Tourist Information, but when we get to where all the signs point we just can’t see it. A guy in a baseball cap comes up to us and realises we’re from out-of-town and he helps us out; turns out the Tourist Info place is down a set of stairs towards the metro, rather than at eye-level. We chat a bit about where we are from and after that he mentions the Big Issue and asks for some money. We give him some change we have and then head inside.
Maps in hand we then continue down the shopping street to find the nearest tele-comms shop. The first is Verizon and we requests their cheapest pay-as-you-go deal. The assistant complies and the phone already has been charged, so we can start using it straight away. He says it will meet our needs as tourists here from England and also when we are in Canada. It is typical though that the price quoted is never the price paid. We’re coming to expect that tax is going to be added at a variable rate to everything we buy, but this phone has a new twist with a “set up” charge too for activating the Sim.
All set we text Ceese and the Kleemans our new number and get our afternoon of wandering going. We do love our walking and so don’t buy a travelcard for today but plan to get around on foot. Getting out to the bay has been mentioned as a great thing to do, so we head alongside the retro trams to the waterfront.
We get to a fancy foodie market on one pier where these georgeous retro trams terminate and go inside. We knew we had to grab lunch earlier as we were starved, but this place would have been good to try out if we had made it earlier. We love the sausages stall which is selling t-shirts and baby grows with the banner “Praise The Lard”.
Leaving the pier we spy what we deduce must be the Coit Tower that Ceese had mentioned to us, and we decide to try and find our way up it (in spite of the fact that the hill it stands on towers vertically above every building in front of it). After a few dead ends, which all end at the cliff face, we begin to wonder what we are letting ourselves in for, but eventually find a way up. A few flights of stairs and steep slopes later we get there and the view was worth it. We get to glimpse Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge and marvel at actually how far we climbed to get up this hill, not realizing that this will actually be the first of many climbs this afternoon!
As we walk along the residential roads of the crest of the hill we spy a strange looking site; at the other end of one road, which is also up a hill, the cars are all moving very slowly and surrounded more by green than pavement. On the map we are informed that this is the “bendy road” and we set off in its direction. This is the self-proclaimed “crookedest street” in the world, which has to have many kinks in each block to allow cars to safely travel down its steep slope. The green we noticed is from the flower beds that follow the road as it bends and it does make a good picture.
When we get there it isn’t just the grammar of its title that frustrates me, but the tourist spectators of this spectacle. The bottom of the street is crowded with people all milling about while someone in their party takes a photo and the rest generally get in the way. As we climb (not walk) the pavement up to the top of the street we notice that the cars are going slowly – yes because of the gradient – but also for the video that they are filming or pictures they are taking from their vehicle as they descend. Again at the top of the street is a throng of people that we don’t hang around in; we know we can’t be too high and mighty, being tourists ourselves, but we extract ourselves from the situation before it escalates, and decide to head off along the crest following the cable car.
The cable car route takes us on a lovely walk up and down various hills and residential neighbourhoods. We’re having a great time and of course the only thing that can make it better is ice cream! Suddenly a retro looking sign informs us that we are at Swensen's Sherbert and Shakes, and we feel obliged to partake. I order a scoop of chocolate and one of cherry and Scotty has a scoop of mint choc chip and one of vanilla. This ice cream is divine and we’re not surprised it has thrived here since before retro was retro and it was actually modern. The cherry has actual cherry pieces in it and we both walk the last few blocks to the museum content.
We have just over an hour then in the cable car museum before it closes and our legs drop off from the hill walking and we spend every minute of it in fascination. This little museum is the site of the machinery and ingenuity that run San Francisco’s famous cable car system. It’s got the history of the system’s invention and how it was renovated to be workable again after disrepair twenty years ago and how it is still run today. The main gallery overlooks the cogs that drive the three cables running for miles under the downtown streets and the workshop area used to fix the cars or the cables, then downstairs you also get a look at the wheels they use to get these cables to turn corners. It’s all fascinating and very cool.
Weary feet manage to get us back to the street of our hotel. As we pass the garage where our car is on the street corner though we get a closer look at a bar we spied as we pulled in “Biscuits and Blues”. Scott recognises the name of the artist playing tonight and we venture inside to investigate. Unable to meet up with Ceese (as she is getting her keys for a new apartment) we decide to buy tickets and have dinner there too. Once we decipher what the girl selling us the tickets is saying – that tables for dinner aren’t reserved and we should get in early – we head to the hotel for a quick rest ready for the evening.
We think that getting to the venue 45 minutes before the performance is “early” but it seems most people have arrived before us. Although our table is in the final row before the booths, we are still only metres from the stage and fortunately stage-centre. The menu comes out and we’re pleased at the food and beer choices on offer; a good dosage of pork and micro-breweries. We order two of the three ales on tap to get a taste. When these arrive one comes with a slice of orange on the side – as if it is a cocktail. This seems bizarre, but in breweries we trust, so we give it a go. This is Blue Moon and the citrus side order actually really works. It gives you a smell and small taste of citrus as you drink and we both like it. Later into the night we just order these for us. To eat I feel the need to order some biscuits as it is in the name. The only main the comes with these famous American biscuits is Pulled Pork, so it’s decided for me. This comes and is not only very good, but huge and although I make a good effort am unable to finish it.
Walter Trout plays a storming set of Blues – he’s played with many of the ‘old guard’ of blues musicians and so not only has amazing technique but also really knows how to work a crowd. In a few months’ time he’s taking his tour to the UK and plays at that home of British Blues: Buxton Opera House. That’s a 900-seater venue, but we’re here in San Francisco seeing him play to a sold-out room with a maximum capacity of 113. It’s an amazing experience.
After the gig we buy his CD and get it signed. Scott recalls seeing him play before at a tribute concert to Alexis Korner and talks about that gig: Walter is convinced he never played it. It’s been an ongoing mystery to Scott as to why he’s convinced he’s seen Walter Trout play before, but thinks he’s got to the bottom of it – he saw him at a tribute concert to a different person!
We head back to the hotel and decide to stop in the hotel bar for a night cap. Opting for a bottle of the locally brewed Anchor Steam beer, we are taken aback by the price being double that of the blues bar. The blues bar wasn’t cheap, but this hotel’s prices are ludicrous. Making the most of the Most Expensive Bottle Of Beer In America, we decide we really like San Francisco and that with lots more still to see we should stay another night. Returning to the room we use the WiFi in the hotel to book another through Expedia, saving ourselves over 50% off the price we’d pay if we did it at reception!
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