San Francisco

Oakland IS geographically closer to San Francisco, so was an obvious choice for a newbie booking train tickets. But getting across the bay was less easy to said newbies. Thank goodness for some data roaming we’d purchased, and a ferry seemed the best option that appeared – especially considering Kerry’s wrist.  The swelling had come down, but it clearly wasn’t just a sprain. We had phoned the travel insurance company last night and talked over our situation and our plan – if it was still painful tomorrow we’d talk to the Air B&B people and get a recommendation to a local medical centre.

Back to Jack London Square station at Oakland and our departure point. The tracks had to be crossed, an overpass seemed easy. An elevator up one story opened onto the overpass. A man enjoying his own company with a waft of marijuana in the air managed to make some words about the lift at the other end of the overpass not working. He seemed shocked when we seemed to take his advice. Even more so when we asked for his opinion on an alternative as we acknowledged we’re ‘not from around here’.   “Australia, you’re from Australia”, said the sad dark eyes as they lit up brighter than his joint. A friendly thank you and handshake was probably more than he’d received from a white couple for some time.

Everything seems easier on the map, but we eventually found our way onto the ferry and had an enjoyable ride with the locals across the bay.

img_4001

Bus 31 had a terminus nearby and a payment of $2.50 each got us a ticket to Outer Richmond and our Air B&B. Travelling on public transport is cheap and once over the first nervous steps of how the system works, it’s not a bad way to get around. You meet the locals and get a feel for the city as you pass through the less than touristy areas. Relying on the offline mapping never let us down and we got off at the right stop.

Both of us breathed in when we saw the Pacific Ocean close by, and breathed out big time when we saw the hill we had to lug our cases up towards our new house.  Looking back on the Air B&B website later, the owner does recommend Bus 38 and not Bus 31. Both run close by – one is on the high side and one runs on the low side. We, no, I, chose the wrong one…..  sigh… puff puff puff. rest. Puff puff puff.   It’s flatter if you go the other street said the helpful lady washing her car in the street.

Greeted by our host, it was way too early to move into our room, they let us leave our baggage and we headed back DOWN the hill to catch Bus 31 into the terminus again. A pleasant walk along Fishermans Wharf found us soon near a Hop on Hop off bus spruiker. Not at all cheap, this seemed like a good option to have a real look around the city to let us decide where we wanted to explore a bit more.

Sitting on the open top deck is fun, but seems pretty dangerous with the live cables not very far away.

img_7875

 

Normal things happen in San Francisco too. No sign of a movie set made up accident here.

img_7877

 

 

img_7879

And then just around the corner appears the Golden Gate Bridge – yay

 

img_7881

Yes it WAS windy and chilly as we zoomed across. Walking would have been a good option if you had the time.

img_7884

img_7886

Some great sights – it’s a big city and a big harbour.

img_7889

img_7892

 

img_7894

img_7898

img_7901

Heads down!

img_7904

img_7905

img_7907

Heads down again!

img_7908

 

The zipper moves the central barriers across to change the number of lanes in each direction.

img_4008

 

A meal at a Diner ticked a bucket list item I didn’t know I had. No need to do that again.

And squeezing onto the sensible Bus 38 a peak hour for a ride to the end of it’s run was interesting when three young French guys joined us as the oddities to be chatted to. These are generally always enjoyable exchanges.

Once at our ‘Cozy room by the sea’ we found the description was very apt. Sea views, our own bathroom – all very pleasant.

 

 

 

On the Train

After yesterdays fall, Kerry’s wrist was certainly swollen and not in a good shape. Neither was her chin, nor knee. However her stoic soul was undeterred and we made our way downhill to the King Street Station in Seattle, following the route we’d checked the day before. Down one block, left here, cross over here, down the lift to platform level and lined up for the check in – the journey took about 15 minutes; so pleased to have found a convenient location for our hotel.

Kerry used her left arm to pull her case, and the right wrist has been comfortably stabilised with the stretchy wrapping.

We found Car 11 and were greeted by Dean our steward who directed us upstairs to Room 7 – our Superliner Roomette. I carted both our cases up the narrow winding staircase then realised there was completely no room in the Superliner Roomette for them, so carted them down the narrow winding staircase again and left them in the rather insecure luggage racks.

Amtrak rolled us out at 9:30am on time. Our little cabin had two comfy seats facing each other that converted into two beds – one folding down from the roof.

The scenery rolled past and my lovely mapping app on the iPad showed us our location. I’m super interested in following where we are on a map, or looking out the window at the passing landscapes whether it be on a plane or train or car. Some people aren’t. I wonder what draws each to their preferences and how both can be very happy with their journey.

img_7869

img_7872

Water through the trees

Seattle, and Vancouver, is on waterways protected from the Pacific Ocean by islands and both are essentially on huge harbours. Seattle seems more built up and industry lines the foreshore with large ships carrying goods to and fro. If you listen to many locals, they bemoan their sad reality that most is imported and the decline of their once great manufacturing industries. Coming from the home of capitalism, I find their moaning rather amusing. Businesses will always find the cheapest source for manufacturing – it’s a fundamental tenet of capitalism. Yet when we talk about Australia, they ask if it is socialist, ‘like Canada’. I’ve learnt this is a loaded phrase, often used by people who feel like the guy with the slogan covered ute in Montana but without the courage to display their views so openly.

We left the train at Portland, Oregan looking for a pharmacy and a better splint for Kerry’s wrist. For a Monday afternoon, the place was dead, virtually no one around. Maybe all train station precincts are like this, and to be fair, we’d get the same impression at our town interstate terminal pretty much any day or time. No pharmacy was found.

Lunch was provided in the dining car and shared with a couple from Queensland who we were happy to get away from.

The scenery rolled past, train travel is comfortable. A few drinks, a few chats in the diner, dinner came and went, darkness fell as we climbed into the substantial mountains with little villages that really deserved exploring. Oregon would be a place to check out.

One man was keenly taking a photo of every locomotive he could see and recording it’s number. His wife was quite chatty with us, but desperate to try to join in with her husband and get him to explain the differences in the locomotives when she saw none. She had no real interest, and it was probably rather a lonely existence for her on holidays. God was going to save her though and salvation day was something she was gleefully looking forward to. He produced a Jehovah’s Witness leaflet. We politely declined. End of an otherwise interesting conversation from her.

Sleeping on the train was marginal, but we were very pleased to have taken the sleeper option. The privacy of our little room, being able to stretch out during the day and night were all big pluses. So was food being included. Wifi was marginal. Power sockets got everything charged up.

Early in the morning the train passed through the region Jacob worked a few years back, and then rolled on down the mountains onto the coastal flat lands towards Oaklands station where we had booked our exit – the closest station to San Francisco across the bay. Breakfast was served.

“Next stop Richmond – disembark here for bus services to San Francisco.” Oops.