Sunday 23. Last day in LA today, so up early and put all the clothes, shoes, handbags, dresses, skirts, hats and Flashman's small kit onto the bed for the expert packer to make it all fit. I'm sure, that if we have to open it on arrival it will all spring out like a giant jack-in-the-box. We headed off to the Getty Centre with Lady P driving and Tas navigating. Flashman was in the back providing lifesavers and amusing anecdotes. The Getty Centre was simply outstanding and we wandered about for a couple of hours managing to see only two of the four wings of the gallery before it was time to adjourn to the Getty restaurant for our lunch reservation. We decided as it was our last day that we should relax and enjoy it so it was fitting to enjoy a stunning meal in most amazing surroundings. The architecture of the Getty Centre is just out of this world and the camera is loaded with photos which I (Lady P) will post at a later date. The sculpture garden was simply inspiring and even in the drought conditions the limited garden beds of dahlias and other flowering annuals were a spectacular sight among the native grasses and succulents. Its definitely on the list of places to return to next time we're in town.
Back 'home' to West Hollywood via sunset Boulevard and Beverley Hills to freshen up, zip up the cases and throw out the rubbish before heading out to LAX to drop off the hire car, jump the shuttle and within in an hour be checked in, through the body scanner and in the lounge sipping on a G & T. Tas leaves an hour earlier on his A380 to Melbourne so we meet him for a Stella in the bar downstairs before adjourning up to the lounge where we write up the last blog.
Sunday, August 23, 2015
Santa Monica and Venice Beach
Saturday 22nd August. Today we
went to Santa Monica and Venice Beach. This was a nice little expedition led by
Lady P in the left hand seat. Santa Monica was a lovely place and fairly busy
and we managed a park in the lot which was right on the beach beside the pier, fairly easily. A walk to the Farmers’ Market
resulted in some sun burn and a couple of peaches and a drop into Barneys for
brunch. The worst food and service we have had in the US to date. Cold tacos,
indifferent service and luckily for them, a reasonable if not delayed
cappuccino. We tipped $2 and left in a huff. A stroll to the end of the Santa Monica Pier followed where we observed the LA masses promenading and indulging in sideshow entertainment, roller coaster rides and junk food. The remaining masses were shoulder to shoulder on the wide sandy beach or alternatively bumping into each other in the dumpy surf. Lady P wanted to ride a bicycle
from Santa Monica to Venice Beach. So, we let her go and the Major and Flashman
headed out like a couple of former infantrymen, on foot. Boy oh boy, what a
dump Venice Beach is. Firstly we noted not an insignificant number of people talking to their imaginary
friends, quite loudly and with some venom on occasion. “That’s what drugs can
do to you,” the Major notes. Dirty little tarts, homeless people, crap musicians,cheap T-shirts and the worst
artworks on sale you can imagine. We push on though, keeping Lady P in sight
until we come to the Venice Bistro, where we need hydration. Outside is a steel
band drumming away. They were drug induced hippies from the 70’s, complete with
a glazed eyed, wrinkly, dancing lady, swaying (in her mind, in time) to the music. Luckily, we come to the end of this dodgy place and get picked
up by Lady P in the car after she dropped off the bicycle from the hire place. A swift drive by indeed. We head home to West Hollywood at a rapid pace, via the scene of the ‘lemonade-gate’
grog shop debacle that the Major was in and did not buy grog on our arrival. He plans a stiff rebuttal in his blog regarding he whole incident. Luckily
for us, a Japanese sushi bar was open and while Lady P investigated the shoe
department of Target, the Major and Flashy had a beer and sashimi. After
discussions on the choice of a dinner venue and a suggestion that we make a
reservation, we head to Franco on Melrose, an Italian Restaurant, number 28 out of 8082 on Trip Advisor and amazingly it's just at the end of our Street. It was very good with excellent beef capaccio, ravioli, lobster
pasta, beef cheeks and a decent Italian white after the bottle of Prosecco. On
the walk home, we decided that a cocktail or at least a nightcap was in order, so we went back to the Mud Hen Tavern. There we met Dave. “Where are you guys
from?” "Australia," we say. “I’m from Sydney,” he says. Turns out that he is ‘an
actor by trade’. Mmm.. Apparently he was in Home and Away for three years. So
what’s he doing serving bar in West Hollywood? Like all of them, waiting on being
discovered of course. A nice enough bloke, though - but he measures all spirit pours. Just our luck, to find the only bar in America that measures the spirit pours. Nonetheless, we have our nightcaps and buy a bag of doughnuts for tomorrow's breakfast and head home.
Farmers Market and LA
Friday 21st August. A leisurely start this morning with Lady P driving us to the Farmer's Market for a breakfast of eggs, bacon, hash and bagel and a decent cappuccino. A few hours wandering around this interesting place sees us finding the chili-lime-salt that we had around the rim of the cocktail glasses in the Sacramento food tour. Beauty, we buy four bottles. After the market, we head up to Griffith Park and the big telescope, which provides a good view of LA and the smog. A detour for beer, chips and wine at a local supermarket and home to the apartment to blog, relax, have a cold beer and a shandy. Except Flashy mixes the shandy using tonic water by mistake, but no one seems to notice. We then plan dinner. One of the interesting things about bars and some restaurants/taverns in the US, is that very often they are hidden behind a small door with no windows. As a result, they often look very dodgy and you think twice about entering. But that is a big mistake as we discovered. Just across the road, sort of, is a single small door and a little sign saying "Mud Hen Tavern". This turns out to be a voluminous space, nicely appointed with an atrium space and party lights, hipsters, wannabees and us, with all tables full and turning over regularly. We desire cocktails, and plan to wander about the neighbourhood and look for a dinner restaurant somewhere else. The Mud Hen was so good and really pumping and we were lucky to get a table - and that was only on the basis that if they get a dinner reservation we would have to go. To avoid this, we decide to have dinner there as well as cocktails. This turned out to be an excellent choice, with great cocktails and sample plates - pretzel; small blue cheese, fig and rocket pizza; smoked beef jerky; chicken waffle croquet and lamb balls (not their balls - lamb meat made into little balls) with mint. A number of cocktails were consumed along with two bottles of red. I think we made it home.
Friday, August 21, 2015
Pismo Beach to LA
Thursday 20th August. Due to Lady P's valiant effort last night, the Bitch at least wakes up, but still says 'No GPS Signal'. Flashman is not allowed to throw her out the window, so we head off on the 101 to LA, once more using the 'acute sense of direction' (Lady P's inbuilt google maps!) A brief stop in Santa Barbara for a Ruben and a cold beer in Joe's Diner, a very typical American bar with booths, tables and the long bar. Wonderful. Lady P declines and has a Starbucks coffee and a cinnamon roll, then off to LA via the incredible and efficient freeway, where the average driver is cruising along at least 10mph above the speed limit but is driving with precision and focus so that all seven lanes of traffic move seamlessly. Very impressive and barely a policeman in sight, let alone hidden radars or speed guns to detract from the drivers focus of just 'driving' rather than looking out for the hidden speed detectors.
We arrive at our Air BnB which is a very spacious, 2 brm, 2 bathroom apartment in West Hollywood to find Tas is at the liquor store, so we naturally assume he is buying supplies. His text as to what we want is returned with the request for lemonade. Yes, Lady P has declined gin and vodka and has decided on shandies. Now, you would have thought that if Tas was actually in the liquor store he would be buying, well liquor. He returns with a single bottle of lemonade and says, "Where's the beer?" Luckily, Flashman had two bottles in his kit bag, along with a bottle of wine from Placerville, so we survived for a short while. Feeling adventurous, we head off in search of a taxi to 'The Farmer's Daughter Hotel', where Claire and Donna (Melbourne friends of Tas) were staying, well actually leaving, for Australia at 10 PM. A small difficulty in hailing a cab was resolved by dropping into a bar/restaurant, having a beer and a chat to the barman and getting the greeter to call us a cab. What's a greeter, you say? Well, in the US, you go into a diner or restaurant and the first person you see, usually a 13 yr old gal, is the greeter. A person with considerable power as she hands you over to a seater who shows you to a table or booth. Piss off the greeter and you might get 'sorry no table' or unbeknown to you, she whispers to the seater, 'give the pricks the back table.' The seater then hands you over to the waiter, who then as soon as you sit down, hands you the menu asks you what you want to drink. Do not, and I repeat do not delay, as you may never see her again. Anyways, we have a beer and a great long chat to the very helpful barman and the greeter calls us a cab. We then get to the Farmer's Daughter, have a quick catch up with Claire and Donna before they rush off to the airport. Three plates of appetizers later, which were quite good, and we walk the mean streets of Hollywood in search of a bar. We find the Plan Check Bar. We enter. We notice we are probably as old as the patrons' grandparents and certainly the only three over 30 in the whole place, but hey, we're hip and mozie up to the bar and order beers and cocktails. The bald (shaven of course) headed bloke next to us is drinking Bunderberg Ginger Beer. Amazing. We ask the greeter to call us a cab and for the second time tonight Flashman notices a little smirk on the greeter's face. Over the noise of the music, Lady P informs him that the young ones keep telling us older ones to use Uber not cabs. Home to our apartment and open the white wine which is now cold and then hit the bed.
We arrive at our Air BnB which is a very spacious, 2 brm, 2 bathroom apartment in West Hollywood to find Tas is at the liquor store, so we naturally assume he is buying supplies. His text as to what we want is returned with the request for lemonade. Yes, Lady P has declined gin and vodka and has decided on shandies. Now, you would have thought that if Tas was actually in the liquor store he would be buying, well liquor. He returns with a single bottle of lemonade and says, "Where's the beer?" Luckily, Flashman had two bottles in his kit bag, along with a bottle of wine from Placerville, so we survived for a short while. Feeling adventurous, we head off in search of a taxi to 'The Farmer's Daughter Hotel', where Claire and Donna (Melbourne friends of Tas) were staying, well actually leaving, for Australia at 10 PM. A small difficulty in hailing a cab was resolved by dropping into a bar/restaurant, having a beer and a chat to the barman and getting the greeter to call us a cab. What's a greeter, you say? Well, in the US, you go into a diner or restaurant and the first person you see, usually a 13 yr old gal, is the greeter. A person with considerable power as she hands you over to a seater who shows you to a table or booth. Piss off the greeter and you might get 'sorry no table' or unbeknown to you, she whispers to the seater, 'give the pricks the back table.' The seater then hands you over to the waiter, who then as soon as you sit down, hands you the menu asks you what you want to drink. Do not, and I repeat do not delay, as you may never see her again. Anyways, we have a beer and a great long chat to the very helpful barman and the greeter calls us a cab. We then get to the Farmer's Daughter, have a quick catch up with Claire and Donna before they rush off to the airport. Three plates of appetizers later, which were quite good, and we walk the mean streets of Hollywood in search of a bar. We find the Plan Check Bar. We enter. We notice we are probably as old as the patrons' grandparents and certainly the only three over 30 in the whole place, but hey, we're hip and mozie up to the bar and order beers and cocktails. The bald (shaven of course) headed bloke next to us is drinking Bunderberg Ginger Beer. Amazing. We ask the greeter to call us a cab and for the second time tonight Flashman notices a little smirk on the greeter's face. Over the noise of the music, Lady P informs him that the young ones keep telling us older ones to use Uber not cabs. Home to our apartment and open the white wine which is now cold and then hit the bed.
Monterey to Pismo Beach
Wednesday 19th August. Guess who we meet at breakfast downstairs? Yep, Greg and Cinti his sister. Greg is good company if you meet him once a year and he is a bit loud. The other guests slink out into the other room while he and Cinti regail us with family tales of growing up in Buffalo NY. Nice enough though and an excellent breakfast - complementary. After a brief walk around the Fisherman's wharf area of Monterery, where we observe sea lions sleeping and huge swirls of bait fish, we have a coffee at Lou lous. There are people catching fish from the pier, so we stop to look and see what all the excitement is about. Some are catching two and three fish at a time, but when they tell us the 300 mm long fish are Mackeral, well, we feel like Texans - "That ain't no Mackerel, man, where we come from they're three feet long." We head for the coast road down the Big Sur towards our next overnight at Pismo Beach. The drive is stunning as promised, with very high hills dropping sharply into the sea. Sort of like the Great Ocean Road in Victoria on steroids. A fair bit of traffic, but as we are heading south, the pullovers and scenic spots are on our side of the road, so photo opps are easy, if not busy.
The scenery at first is parched, brown earth but when we get to Big Sur proper, a small township with accommodation houses, camping grounds etc we are surrounded by lush towering Redwoods. No sign of any water though, at least not fresh water in rivers and streams. About half way into the journey, the Bitch quits. She just turns off and won't start. Looks like we will be back to first principles for the trip into Pismo Beach. A stop for a club sandwich and a beer at Whale Beach cafe proves to be worthwhile - Lady P maintains she sees some whale splash and we enjoy a shared club sandwich.Further along the Coast road amongst the brown paddocks once more we get to see some great big Elephant Seals frolicking on the beach, as if Elephant Seals can be described as frolicking. And then we roll into San Simeon and the turn off to the famous 'not to be missed' Hearst Castle. Previous members of the Anzac tour party had reported waits of an hour upon arriving at the Hearst Castle visitors centre but no such delays for us. We walk in the door at 1.50pm and book our Cottages and Kitchen tour for 2pm! Flashy is suitably impressed and our guide further impresses with plenty of historical facts mostly relating to the many notable visitors to Hearst Castle - including David Niven who lamented the lack of alcohol served by the Hearsts and noted that the wine poured 'like glue'. We roll down the hill and head off to Pismo Beach which Lady P finds easily without the aid of devices and we settle into our room directly on the beach. Lady P finds the ice vending machine and with the aid of our little esky we chill the gin and tonic and settle in to watch the spectacular sunset - Lady P from the beach front balcony and Flashman very unromantically from the shade of the lounge room - precious! An American diner is located for dinner and we share a hamburger and chili cheesefries. Both are excellent and Californian in size, i.e. normal not gigantic. Back to our room to pull down the Murphy bed from its hiding place in the wardrobe and a comfortable night before departure in the morning for LA.
The scenery at first is parched, brown earth but when we get to Big Sur proper, a small township with accommodation houses, camping grounds etc we are surrounded by lush towering Redwoods. No sign of any water though, at least not fresh water in rivers and streams. About half way into the journey, the Bitch quits. She just turns off and won't start. Looks like we will be back to first principles for the trip into Pismo Beach. A stop for a club sandwich and a beer at Whale Beach cafe proves to be worthwhile - Lady P maintains she sees some whale splash and we enjoy a shared club sandwich.Further along the Coast road amongst the brown paddocks once more we get to see some great big Elephant Seals frolicking on the beach, as if Elephant Seals can be described as frolicking. And then we roll into San Simeon and the turn off to the famous 'not to be missed' Hearst Castle. Previous members of the Anzac tour party had reported waits of an hour upon arriving at the Hearst Castle visitors centre but no such delays for us. We walk in the door at 1.50pm and book our Cottages and Kitchen tour for 2pm! Flashy is suitably impressed and our guide further impresses with plenty of historical facts mostly relating to the many notable visitors to Hearst Castle - including David Niven who lamented the lack of alcohol served by the Hearsts and noted that the wine poured 'like glue'. We roll down the hill and head off to Pismo Beach which Lady P finds easily without the aid of devices and we settle into our room directly on the beach. Lady P finds the ice vending machine and with the aid of our little esky we chill the gin and tonic and settle in to watch the spectacular sunset - Lady P from the beach front balcony and Flashman very unromantically from the shade of the lounge room - precious! An American diner is located for dinner and we share a hamburger and chili cheesefries. Both are excellent and Californian in size, i.e. normal not gigantic. Back to our room to pull down the Murphy bed from its hiding place in the wardrobe and a comfortable night before departure in the morning for LA.
Thursday, August 20, 2015
On the road to Monterey
Tuesday 18th August. Packed up the car and cleaned the cottage this morning for our departure for Monterey. In keeping with the solemn nature of the event, SF's fog rolled in and the morning was cool and cloudy. We head up to Solarno Ave for the last time for a coffee at the famous 'Peets Cafe', top up the tank with gas and head north. Yep, Monterey is actually south, but Lady P wants to go over the San Rafael and Golden Gate Bridges, through the downtown SF and out to the 101 South to Monterey.
We make it without too much anxiety, although we fail to pay the toll over the Golden Gate Bridge because there is 'No Stopping' and no cash lane. Flashman has visions of being dragged off the plane at LA and spending two weeks in a Federal Prison somewhere. Anyway, we make it to the Interstate and head south for Monterey. Half way there we ignore the "do a U-Turn' from the Bitch and go off the Interstate to a little pit stop at Morgan Hill and get a really good turkey and Swiss on white and a chicken salad from Safeway. Then we continue into Monterey and find the 1887 BnB called Gosby House. We are a little early but our room is ready. We have booked the smallest room deliberately as it is cheap. We get offered an upgrade to the second smallest room and grab it. Very 19th Century but cute. Drop the bags and head to Carmel-By-The-Sea. More cute but with lots of $$ signs on everything. Hotter now, and thirsty work this sightseeing, so a cooling Stella and a diet Coke at a local Italian Bistro and then back to happy hour at our Gosby House. Now, listen to this. At 4.30 to 6.30 each night, they put on free cheese and crackers and wine for the guests in the downstairs parlor. How cute. We made it at 5.30 and yes we did partake. Of course, as you will have guessed, at these sort of functions, you meet other guests; and we meet Greg. A stand up comedian from Las Vegas, en route from LA with his sister to somewhere in the Sierras for a family reunion. What a hoot. Skillfully disengaging from 'travellers' conversation syndrome', we head out in search of cool evening air and a dinner booking at the number one seafood restaurant, 'Passionfish'. This is actually very good. We decide on five appetizers. Two for Lady P and three for greedy Flashy. Scallop on artichoke patty, a wonderful fish stew, crevice of striped bass, tuna carpaccio and a fish taco, were accompanied by a sparkling Gamay, a Californian Chardonnay and a cute Napa Rose (glasses of course, there's only two of us!). We enter into a delightful conversation with a chap on the next table who is probably a famous tennis player, as he has been to Australia and well, sort of expected us to know him. Back to the BnB to discover the wonderful owners have left chocolate cake, cookies and a whole decanter of sherry out for tired guests returning from dinner. Of course!
We make it without too much anxiety, although we fail to pay the toll over the Golden Gate Bridge because there is 'No Stopping' and no cash lane. Flashman has visions of being dragged off the plane at LA and spending two weeks in a Federal Prison somewhere. Anyway, we make it to the Interstate and head south for Monterey. Half way there we ignore the "do a U-Turn' from the Bitch and go off the Interstate to a little pit stop at Morgan Hill and get a really good turkey and Swiss on white and a chicken salad from Safeway. Then we continue into Monterey and find the 1887 BnB called Gosby House. We are a little early but our room is ready. We have booked the smallest room deliberately as it is cheap. We get offered an upgrade to the second smallest room and grab it. Very 19th Century but cute. Drop the bags and head to Carmel-By-The-Sea. More cute but with lots of $$ signs on everything. Hotter now, and thirsty work this sightseeing, so a cooling Stella and a diet Coke at a local Italian Bistro and then back to happy hour at our Gosby House. Now, listen to this. At 4.30 to 6.30 each night, they put on free cheese and crackers and wine for the guests in the downstairs parlor. How cute. We made it at 5.30 and yes we did partake. Of course, as you will have guessed, at these sort of functions, you meet other guests; and we meet Greg. A stand up comedian from Las Vegas, en route from LA with his sister to somewhere in the Sierras for a family reunion. What a hoot. Skillfully disengaging from 'travellers' conversation syndrome', we head out in search of cool evening air and a dinner booking at the number one seafood restaurant, 'Passionfish'. This is actually very good. We decide on five appetizers. Two for Lady P and three for greedy Flashy. Scallop on artichoke patty, a wonderful fish stew, crevice of striped bass, tuna carpaccio and a fish taco, were accompanied by a sparkling Gamay, a Californian Chardonnay and a cute Napa Rose (glasses of course, there's only two of us!). We enter into a delightful conversation with a chap on the next table who is probably a famous tennis player, as he has been to Australia and well, sort of expected us to know him. Back to the BnB to discover the wonderful owners have left chocolate cake, cookies and a whole decanter of sherry out for tired guests returning from dinner. Of course!
Musings of San Fransisco, Sacramento and this area
No date in particular. There is now doubt that California is different to the rest of the US. We have been in SF, Sacramento and surrounds for two weeks and enjoyed every minute of it. There is a real multi cultural feel to the SF and Sacramento area. We notice cross race couples, that seem normal or accepted here. Most people in our area are, however, slim white folk and there are many old hippies with long grey ponytails, probably 'professors' or 'academic others', writers or the like, given we are close to the Berkeley University campus. Certainly we are in a predominately WASP area, but there are other nationalities/races here as well. Many work out and seem to love their neighbourhood. No one has said "Where y'all from?" Or "Excuse me sir?" they just seem to get a variety of accents here. Also it's very quiet. No barking dogs or crying kids. The streets we walk are well cared for in a very natural way with no front fences, nature strips all planted with native grasses and fruit trees in some cases and certainly no whipper snipped edges. Its just as if the houses, mostly Mission style cottages have been dropped into the natural environment. The footpaths (sidewalks for the Americans) go up hill and down dale over the roots of large trees and there are lots of uneven surfaces so Grannie would not fare well with Zoro the mobility scooter. There are however an abundance of pedestrian crossings, one on every street corner over a period of a couple of miles down the main street and also similar in the side streets. It certainly keeps the drivers on their toes. It reminds us of East Malvern in the 70's, or maybe Colonel Light Gardens with hills. There are agapanthas, geraniums, hydrangeas and of course, lovely flowering eucalyptus all around the streets. Berkeley is a nice place and we are lucky to have scored a little cottage in Neilson Street to be our base in SF.
shopping precincts. Our table top ironing board and the old iron was pulled from the garden shed where it had obviously sat idle for some time.
Sacramento was likewise very pleasant, clean and green. Very Melbourne in lots of ways but quieter. Sacramento claims to be the capital of the 'farmer to fork' movement, or as we say, 'paddock to plate' and they take it very seriously. Same goes for SF and that's partly why the food scene/philosophy here is so different and so good compared to elsewhere in the US. Plate sizes are generally smaller and all about the ingredients. The coffee has been very good, even the filter coffee is OK and particularly in SF and Sacramento, baristas make espresso from real machines. We had a cappuccino at Noahs Bagel which was very good. So not like New York on our previous visit. The tourist attractions were very well done and well organised, particularly the Ferry to Sausalito and Alcatraz. The walking tours organised by Lady P were fun and professional and all delivered by volunteers. They made such a difference to the understanding of the fascinating history of California, even though we only caught a glimpse of the 19th and 20th century period. To top it all off, we had perfect weather every day from LA to LV and SF. Hot sometimes, but generally a cooling wind and a cold beverage just around the corner.
Neilson St cottage (our Airbnb) is positioned behind a house on Neilsen St, and there is a delightful shared courtyard separating the two. A laden fig tree provides shade and there are herbs growing in planters and fuschias tucked into little corners here and there. It could be my Nana's garden in Auckland. Inside the cottage, Raza, our host, has decorated it with San Francisco pizzaz. The kitchen has yellow walls with a red sparkling benchtop - a nightmare if you are trying to wipe the crumbs away! and there are numerous eclectic pieces of artwork on the walls. Overlooking it all is a colourful witch hanging from the light fitting
above! The toilet is bright pink with a fluro blue hand basin and water dispenser and thankfully the bedroom, set down a few timber stairs is painted in subdued colours to ensure a restful night's sleep. Skylights abound so everything is bright and light which we love and it has been a delightful home away from home for the sojourn. The only missing amenity in the cottage was an iron (and board) for Flashy to iron his shirts, but this was quickly rectified. It appears that SF people do not iron as was observed during the course of our visits to the local
shopping precincts. Our table top ironing board and the old iron was pulled from the garden shed where it had obviously sat idle for some time.Sacramento was likewise very pleasant, clean and green. Very Melbourne in lots of ways but quieter. Sacramento claims to be the capital of the 'farmer to fork' movement, or as we say, 'paddock to plate' and they take it very seriously. Same goes for SF and that's partly why the food scene/philosophy here is so different and so good compared to elsewhere in the US. Plate sizes are generally smaller and all about the ingredients. The coffee has been very good, even the filter coffee is OK and particularly in SF and Sacramento, baristas make espresso from real machines. We had a cappuccino at Noahs Bagel which was very good. So not like New York on our previous visit. The tourist attractions were very well done and well organised, particularly the Ferry to Sausalito and Alcatraz. The walking tours organised by Lady P were fun and professional and all delivered by volunteers. They made such a difference to the understanding of the fascinating history of California, even though we only caught a glimpse of the 19th and 20th century period. To top it all off, we had perfect weather every day from LA to LV and SF. Hot sometimes, but generally a cooling wind and a cold beverage just around the corner.
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Earthquake
Monday 17th August. Awoken today by an earthquake. A 4.1 magnitude at around 3.3 miles deep, centered around Piermont, not far from here in Berkeley. Very short, about 3 seconds, just like a freight train going past. It's all over the news, as if nothing else happens on Earth. There is no damage, but all sorts of crap about waking the dog all over social media. Another 'tick' off the bucket list I guess! We do a bit of packing for the road trip tomorrow, with all the cold weather gear rolled up at the bottom of the suitcase and fresh summer clothes on top. It's great to have a mid sized car so everything doesn't have to go in a bag and you can just grab an overnight pack for Monterey and Pismo Beach stopovers on the way to LA. Lady P heads off to SF again for the last gasp of shopping and sightseeing while Flashy contemplates a walk to the local wine cellar for an educational flight or two; a beer at Schmidt's Pub and a recce for tonight's dinner reservation. True to form, Flashman does indeed walk up the hill to Solano Ave and have a beer in the pub, a glass of red with a little pasta at Cuginis Italian, then to Solano Cellars for a tasting of the "Special Monday's poured till there finished, half price" wines. Sitting at the bar with two retired professors, one of whom has taught at Macquarie Uni in the 70's and a much tattooed 30's something gal who claims to be an Adjunct Professor at a dodgy State College, Flashy feels at ease. There are five reds on the tasting menu and you can get then by the glass or half glass and for half price. Flashy has five half glasses, tasting the whole menu on offer and taking notes; decides on a good one and has a full glass of that one, all the while discussing the Democratic nominations. I guess there was only one Republican at the bar eh? So to the wines on offer. '14 Chidaine Touraine FR, '13 Castellare Chianti Classico ITY, '14 Dom du Seminaire Cotes du Rhone FR, '12 Hoopla "The Mutt" CS/PS Napa and a '13 Dom du Pelican 3 Crepages Pinot Noir FR. The Napa Valley won hands down at 18.5 on the old 20 point score. So Flashy had a full glass of it just to be sure. Home at 6 pm and still in the high 80's with the sun streaming in through the windows, as Lady P walks through the door.
Swapping notes it appears Lady P has had an equally enjoyable day, firstly traversing the BART system to the city and then a trolley bus to the Golden Gate Park. At 1pm she met up with another of the SF walking guides, a delightful lady called Christine, and a large gathering of like minded people to do a walking tour of the Japanese Tea Garden.
This five acre feature is but a drop in the ocean of the total park area of 845 acres but it was a fascinating walk through the oldest Japanese tea garden in the USA. Christine, a retired 7th grade teacher, was passionate about the Japanese philosophy of 'enlightenment' et al, especially given that her 32 year old daughter had recently converted to Buddhism, giving up her 'family name - Rebecca' for her new name of Vera. It was another wonderful free San Francisco experience and a fitting way to end my last day in this effervescent city. The Park of which I had only a taste, had so much more to offer so it's on the 'to do' list for next time.
Home on the BART - busy at peak hour which was to be expected but sanity was restored when I exited the El Cerito Plaza station and the saxophonist was pumping out some restorative tunes to aid the 20 min walk home. Yes, you guessed it, Lady P has absolutely no issue with the public transport system - on a daily basis it would be somewhat of a chore but on holiday its just part of the fun. Putting aside our differences with public transport, we walk up to our little neighbourhood restaurants and decide to start a sampling/grazing dinner at Fonda Restaurant, which we observed was absolutely pumping on Sunday night when we were across the road at the Laundromart and is similarly frantic tonight. So much so we are seated at a bar directly opposite the open kitchen, so get to watch the two chefs making the dinner for a very busy and almost full restaurant. So, settled in with a Pisco Sour and a Sangria, plus the live entertainment, we watch our dinner of fish and duck tacos prepared and delivered. We are enjoying the theatre of the kitchen so much, we decide not to leave and order some calamari and a wonderful dish of fried plantain with mole and black beans. Then home for an early, last night in Berkeley.
Swapping notes it appears Lady P has had an equally enjoyable day, firstly traversing the BART system to the city and then a trolley bus to the Golden Gate Park. At 1pm she met up with another of the SF walking guides, a delightful lady called Christine, and a large gathering of like minded people to do a walking tour of the Japanese Tea Garden.
This five acre feature is but a drop in the ocean of the total park area of 845 acres but it was a fascinating walk through the oldest Japanese tea garden in the USA. Christine, a retired 7th grade teacher, was passionate about the Japanese philosophy of 'enlightenment' et al, especially given that her 32 year old daughter had recently converted to Buddhism, giving up her 'family name - Rebecca' for her new name of Vera. It was another wonderful free San Francisco experience and a fitting way to end my last day in this effervescent city. The Park of which I had only a taste, had so much more to offer so it's on the 'to do' list for next time.
Home on the BART - busy at peak hour which was to be expected but sanity was restored when I exited the El Cerito Plaza station and the saxophonist was pumping out some restorative tunes to aid the 20 min walk home. Yes, you guessed it, Lady P has absolutely no issue with the public transport system - on a daily basis it would be somewhat of a chore but on holiday its just part of the fun. Putting aside our differences with public transport, we walk up to our little neighbourhood restaurants and decide to start a sampling/grazing dinner at Fonda Restaurant, which we observed was absolutely pumping on Sunday night when we were across the road at the Laundromart and is similarly frantic tonight. So much so we are seated at a bar directly opposite the open kitchen, so get to watch the two chefs making the dinner for a very busy and almost full restaurant. So, settled in with a Pisco Sour and a Sangria, plus the live entertainment, we watch our dinner of fish and duck tacos prepared and delivered. We are enjoying the theatre of the kitchen so much, we decide not to leave and order some calamari and a wonderful dish of fried plantain with mole and black beans. Then home for an early, last night in Berkeley.
Monday, August 17, 2015
Berkeley and more shops
Sunday, the 16th August; and we walk up to our local neighborhood and turn left for a change. Walked past some high end restaurants and on to Noah Bagel, where we had a breakfast of a Noah Lox Special and two coffees. Accustomed to huge American serves, we decide on one Noah Special and a plain bagel, so we can share. Opps we forgot we are in California and SF to boot - the home of the "foodie" scene. The coffee is organic, fair trade, low food miles and surprisingly, really good. The lox bagel is smeared with cream cheese, not 1/2" thick like New York and just the right amount of capers, Spanish onion, tomato and cucumber. Hard to share. Lady P gets this strange look about her and you can almost hear her thinking, 'I'm not gonna give Flashy any salmon.' She's nice, and she does give him a little to go with his plain (but delicious) bagel. A very nice breakfast. Onwards and upwards and downwards on foot to the local Kensington Farmers Market not far away.
My goodness, it could almost be France. A small suburban street closed for about 30 stalls selling the most amazing, organic, free trade, low food miles, non caged, dog friendly, Californian, hippy stamped, high - no very high - quality produce and food stalls. Buggar, we could have forgone the bagel and had a Big Boys Fat Bits rib ends or a paella or lots else. Too full though, but we do need hydration, as it's getting into the 90's. Luckily, we find the local pub, Kensington Circus and have a shandy and a pint of IPA. Flashman did not have the shandy. We could have been in a local corner pub in the middle of London except the barmaid spoke with a delightful Californian drawl. What a wonderful but very WASP suburb and market. We return to our cottage, literally 10 minutes away, deposit our goodies into the fridge, grab 'the bitch', (our navman) and then head to the shopping malls out of town. It's now 105F. Flashman reluctantly accompanies Lady P as he would like a new pair of walking shoes. We discover Walmart in the burbs and buy $3 t-shirts and some undies and stuff but no shoes. We also try the discount store at Pleasant Hill and a Target at Walnut Creek but no bargains to be had. We do discover a Zachary's Chicago Pizza and being a little peckish, stop in for a slice of Pepperoni and a Stella; the driver has a mint tea. Head along the freeway and down the hill into civilisation, the Bitch doesn't miss a beat thankfully, as we negotiate a spaghetti junction type freeway connection at Oakland. Oh, well, there's always LA to finish off the shopping. Home to laundry and admin and a dinner of lamb kofta, yoghurt, mint and cilantro dip and salad, courtesy of the market stalls and the local supermarket. 'Drink the red,' she says, 'Save the whites for when we get together with Tas.' Who am I to argue.
My goodness, it could almost be France. A small suburban street closed for about 30 stalls selling the most amazing, organic, free trade, low food miles, non caged, dog friendly, Californian, hippy stamped, high - no very high - quality produce and food stalls. Buggar, we could have forgone the bagel and had a Big Boys Fat Bits rib ends or a paella or lots else. Too full though, but we do need hydration, as it's getting into the 90's. Luckily, we find the local pub, Kensington Circus and have a shandy and a pint of IPA. Flashman did not have the shandy. We could have been in a local corner pub in the middle of London except the barmaid spoke with a delightful Californian drawl. What a wonderful but very WASP suburb and market. We return to our cottage, literally 10 minutes away, deposit our goodies into the fridge, grab 'the bitch', (our navman) and then head to the shopping malls out of town. It's now 105F. Flashman reluctantly accompanies Lady P as he would like a new pair of walking shoes. We discover Walmart in the burbs and buy $3 t-shirts and some undies and stuff but no shoes. We also try the discount store at Pleasant Hill and a Target at Walnut Creek but no bargains to be had. We do discover a Zachary's Chicago Pizza and being a little peckish, stop in for a slice of Pepperoni and a Stella; the driver has a mint tea. Head along the freeway and down the hill into civilisation, the Bitch doesn't miss a beat thankfully, as we negotiate a spaghetti junction type freeway connection at Oakland. Oh, well, there's always LA to finish off the shopping. Home to laundry and admin and a dinner of lamb kofta, yoghurt, mint and cilantro dip and salad, courtesy of the market stalls and the local supermarket. 'Drink the red,' she says, 'Save the whites for when we get together with Tas.' Who am I to argue.
Sunday, August 16, 2015
The Fairmont Hotel
Today, Saturday 15th August we are to do a tour of the famous Fairmont Hotel and it will be Flashman's last ride on public transport. Yes, he's had enough. SF has the best public transport system. It's fast, efficient, friendly, usually on time, clean, no graffiti and is a mix of high speed rapid transport trains, suburban trains and trams, trolley buses (trams on wheels) and of course, the well known cable car. There's even clean taxis. Mobile phones even work in the tunnels. You get this Melbourne Transport? But it's public. Full of people you'd not want to invite home to dinner, yet alone have a conversation with, and sometimes it's full to standing point. Then there's the stairs up and down to the platforms, the 20 minute walk to the station, the waiting and the silly announcements and having like to like listen like to the like stupid like conversations that the stupid like teenagers like have like with their stupid friends. Obviously, 'like' is the new um and it grates on one as eloquent as we seniors.(Read Grumpy Old Man - Flashy!) I think the inside of a train carriage looks like something from another planet with all alien beings connected by their thumbs to little portable screens. Then there's the stupid costumes they wear and the bloody pushbikes jamming up the isles. That's it. No more. Last ride to town this morning, then it's limos for Flashy. Phew that feels better. Well, it gets better.
Lady P's well researched and booked free tour of the Fairmont Hotel (San Francisco Walking tours - likened to Big Apple Greeters in NYC) was excellent - eventually. Lady P secretly gets her own back at Flashman's tirade on public transport by making him walk three blocks up SF's steepest street (well he thinks it was but it was only a 30% grade and others are closer to 40%) from the BART to the hotel. "It's only one more block", she says. Must have been three bloody miles. There are nine of us on the tour and PJ, the volunteer guide - a 60'ish slim, softly spoken gal was borne and bred in SF. The others are three youngins from Boston; two Kiwis - well one Aussie married to a Kiwi, and two gals from SF who just like walking tours; and of course Flashy and Lady P.The outside of the hotel tour was conducted in the high 80's - about 30C, so despite the incredibly lavish, French inspired 1890's architecture, we were glad to go inside. The Fairmont does not disappoint in any way, with gilded everything and just so OTT. There is one bar that looks like a Circus, complete with platinum, nickle and gold based paints used in the extensive murals painted by a couple of SF girls (nudge, nudge) back in the 30's. The murals are apparently worth millions. There's also a function room - the Tongan room, where we observe thatched roof bures around a swimming pool (all indoor) and then as PJ snaps her fingers, water pours form the ceiling around the perimeter of the pool - yes you guessed it, a tropical downpour. The jewel in the crown is, however, the 'Crown Function Room' on the top floor of the hotel. Perhaps not one for any forthcoming family celebrations at $25,000 a night (room only) but we are lucky enough to enjoy the most stunning 360 degree view of San Francisco from the windows all around and it was the most magnificent day so it was truly breathtaking.
A look at the hotel herb gardens and beehives on the first floor concludes the tour, one and a half hours later. Flashy and Lady P adjourn to the Fairmont bar for a refreshing cocktail. After all, it's 12.30 pm and hot. We have a Fairmont Plunge and a Lavender Bramble. These use infused herbs from the rooftop herb garden, Cool eh? Flashy's has 12yr old Elija Bourbon, ginger syrup, lemon juice and mint, decorated with two cherries. Lady P has gin (of course) blood orange liqueur, lemon juice, blackberry puree and lavender syrup. We also decide to have crab cakes and deviled eggs.
Wonderful. The waitress recognises the accent and then informs us that she (a USA gal), has just married a Kiwi. Bloody hell, they'e everywhere - and won the rugby - Bledisloe Cup- last night as well. After feeling well refreshed, we head down hill (thank God, says Flashy) to Union Square and a great kitchen shop, where we discover a young SF guy promoting and giving us a sample of aperitif wine from Somoma, who - yes you guessed it - married a bloody Kiwi. On the way out of the store, we sample a little taco from the bloke who is promoting the taco seasoning he has invented. "Where are you all from?", he says. "Australia', we say. "Where?," he says. "Cairns", we say. "I've ... don't tell me he's going to say he's married to a Kiwi. I can't stand it. No, thankfully, he's only been to Aus and knows where Cairns is. Phew. Macys is across the road and Lady P leads Flashy into the store on the pretense of finding him a cheap gold watch. No go, unfortunately but we are thirsty again. So off to a little bar near Embarcadero station for a couple of Ibuprofen and a beer then home via the supermarket to top up on salad and chicken for tonight's Caesar salad and one of those Placerville wines.
Lady P's well researched and booked free tour of the Fairmont Hotel (San Francisco Walking tours - likened to Big Apple Greeters in NYC) was excellent - eventually. Lady P secretly gets her own back at Flashman's tirade on public transport by making him walk three blocks up SF's steepest street (well he thinks it was but it was only a 30% grade and others are closer to 40%) from the BART to the hotel. "It's only one more block", she says. Must have been three bloody miles. There are nine of us on the tour and PJ, the volunteer guide - a 60'ish slim, softly spoken gal was borne and bred in SF. The others are three youngins from Boston; two Kiwis - well one Aussie married to a Kiwi, and two gals from SF who just like walking tours; and of course Flashy and Lady P.The outside of the hotel tour was conducted in the high 80's - about 30C, so despite the incredibly lavish, French inspired 1890's architecture, we were glad to go inside. The Fairmont does not disappoint in any way, with gilded everything and just so OTT. There is one bar that looks like a Circus, complete with platinum, nickle and gold based paints used in the extensive murals painted by a couple of SF girls (nudge, nudge) back in the 30's. The murals are apparently worth millions. There's also a function room - the Tongan room, where we observe thatched roof bures around a swimming pool (all indoor) and then as PJ snaps her fingers, water pours form the ceiling around the perimeter of the pool - yes you guessed it, a tropical downpour. The jewel in the crown is, however, the 'Crown Function Room' on the top floor of the hotel. Perhaps not one for any forthcoming family celebrations at $25,000 a night (room only) but we are lucky enough to enjoy the most stunning 360 degree view of San Francisco from the windows all around and it was the most magnificent day so it was truly breathtaking.
A look at the hotel herb gardens and beehives on the first floor concludes the tour, one and a half hours later. Flashy and Lady P adjourn to the Fairmont bar for a refreshing cocktail. After all, it's 12.30 pm and hot. We have a Fairmont Plunge and a Lavender Bramble. These use infused herbs from the rooftop herb garden, Cool eh? Flashy's has 12yr old Elija Bourbon, ginger syrup, lemon juice and mint, decorated with two cherries. Lady P has gin (of course) blood orange liqueur, lemon juice, blackberry puree and lavender syrup. We also decide to have crab cakes and deviled eggs.
Wonderful. The waitress recognises the accent and then informs us that she (a USA gal), has just married a Kiwi. Bloody hell, they'e everywhere - and won the rugby - Bledisloe Cup- last night as well. After feeling well refreshed, we head down hill (thank God, says Flashy) to Union Square and a great kitchen shop, where we discover a young SF guy promoting and giving us a sample of aperitif wine from Somoma, who - yes you guessed it - married a bloody Kiwi. On the way out of the store, we sample a little taco from the bloke who is promoting the taco seasoning he has invented. "Where are you all from?", he says. "Australia', we say. "Where?," he says. "Cairns", we say. "I've ... don't tell me he's going to say he's married to a Kiwi. I can't stand it. No, thankfully, he's only been to Aus and knows where Cairns is. Phew. Macys is across the road and Lady P leads Flashy into the store on the pretense of finding him a cheap gold watch. No go, unfortunately but we are thirsty again. So off to a little bar near Embarcadero station for a couple of Ibuprofen and a beer then home via the supermarket to top up on salad and chicken for tonight's Caesar salad and one of those Placerville wines.Desperate Shopping Expedition
Friday 14th August. We awake to another stunning day in Berkeley. Every morning has been practically the same - it's either overcast with warm blue skies by lunchtime, or like today, clear blue skies and temperatures rising into the 80's. A relaxed start sees us updating the blog and photos and some serious shopping planning by Lady P. She departs for SF and Flashman sits around, does a bit of ironing and shuffles the maps and brochures, before deciding on a late BART to SF and the Wells Fargo Museum, before meeting Lady P at the Hilton.
Lady's P's expedition, 'sans shadow' (read Flashman) is extremely successful. As she walks to the BART station, she hears loud music approaching and notices a group of children, about 6 years of age, all dressed in matching green YMCA. The leader obviously had a booster speaker in her back pack and it is pumping out 'The Eye of the Tiger' and yes, you guessed it, all the children following are singing at the top of their lungs. They are obviously heading for the local Aquatic centre which we are passing - a somewhat 21st century version of Mother Goose and an omen for the day ahead. Desigual, one of Lady P's passions just happens to be on the first street corner so she disappears and doesn't surface for at least 30 mins, only to be followed by a visit to H & M and then of course there was Macey's. It was their One Day Sale so the opportunities just jumped out and she got two pairs of shoes (already reduced by 50%) for the price of one!! Yes the full price was $140 and they only cost $35 !! Win win!! The back pack loaded, and the Desigual wheely carry on luggage bag under one arm she headed off to meet Flashy at the Hilton for a much needed cooling G & T.
The efficient tour guide, Lady P, then escorted Flashy through China Town to catch the No 30 trolley bus down to the foreshore of the Bay and Fort Mason. This is about when he declares he is 'over Public Transport' - more in tomorrow's blog.This seemingly non descript collection of wharfs and buildings is humming and alive with the establishment of the 'temporary pop up food truck' "Off the Grid" food scene. Every Friday they gather and the locals come out to wine, dine and seemingly celebrate life and the end of the working week. There are families with children darting in and out of the crowd, Gen Y'ers meeting their friends after numerous texting 'likes' and putting out their BYO picnic rugs on the pavement as the chairs run out. They even bring their own food in Safeway bags but no one seems to mind. Beer, wine, cocktails you name it, nothing is missing, so we have home brewed beer, followed by Sangria - Lady P, and then a couple of good Californian wines with our dinner.
Too many choices for the later but Lady P watched the Boneyard food truck with an evil eye as she fancied the 'Burnt Ends special'. And Flashy helped her consume that whilst watching the line up move ever so slowly at 'Rocko's Ice cream Tacos' . The music played, the people danced and the crowd grew until it was almost standing room only. As the sun set, we departed up the nearby stairs for some sunset photos before a cab ride to the Embarcadero station for Flashy's favourite ride home on the train.What a great, truly San Francisco experience !!
Lady's P's expedition, 'sans shadow' (read Flashman) is extremely successful. As she walks to the BART station, she hears loud music approaching and notices a group of children, about 6 years of age, all dressed in matching green YMCA. The leader obviously had a booster speaker in her back pack and it is pumping out 'The Eye of the Tiger' and yes, you guessed it, all the children following are singing at the top of their lungs. They are obviously heading for the local Aquatic centre which we are passing - a somewhat 21st century version of Mother Goose and an omen for the day ahead. Desigual, one of Lady P's passions just happens to be on the first street corner so she disappears and doesn't surface for at least 30 mins, only to be followed by a visit to H & M and then of course there was Macey's. It was their One Day Sale so the opportunities just jumped out and she got two pairs of shoes (already reduced by 50%) for the price of one!! Yes the full price was $140 and they only cost $35 !! Win win!! The back pack loaded, and the Desigual wheely carry on luggage bag under one arm she headed off to meet Flashy at the Hilton for a much needed cooling G & T.
The efficient tour guide, Lady P, then escorted Flashy through China Town to catch the No 30 trolley bus down to the foreshore of the Bay and Fort Mason. This is about when he declares he is 'over Public Transport' - more in tomorrow's blog.This seemingly non descript collection of wharfs and buildings is humming and alive with the establishment of the 'temporary pop up food truck' "Off the Grid" food scene. Every Friday they gather and the locals come out to wine, dine and seemingly celebrate life and the end of the working week. There are families with children darting in and out of the crowd, Gen Y'ers meeting their friends after numerous texting 'likes' and putting out their BYO picnic rugs on the pavement as the chairs run out. They even bring their own food in Safeway bags but no one seems to mind. Beer, wine, cocktails you name it, nothing is missing, so we have home brewed beer, followed by Sangria - Lady P, and then a couple of good Californian wines with our dinner. 
Too many choices for the later but Lady P watched the Boneyard food truck with an evil eye as she fancied the 'Burnt Ends special'. And Flashy helped her consume that whilst watching the line up move ever so slowly at 'Rocko's Ice cream Tacos' . The music played, the people danced and the crowd grew until it was almost standing room only. As the sun set, we departed up the nearby stairs for some sunset photos before a cab ride to the Embarcadero station for Flashy's favourite ride home on the train.What a great, truly San Francisco experience !!
Friday, August 14, 2015
El Dorado County wineries
Thursday 13th August. It is a warm day today as we rise around 9am for the complimentary breakfast in the Brewery. Alfred is still there serving and hanging about out table. He seems fascinated by the fact that we came so far to see his mansion and brewery. After a walk around the old cowboy town and a cool barber haircut for Flashman (got the senior's discount too!) and then some confusion as we try and find an ATM, we eventually head for the wineries around Placerville. The 'Bitch' is behaving today and just as well, because there is poor signage to the wineries and turn off from the freeway. The car is very comfortable and just as well, as the temp is now in the 90's. However, we notice the service light on the dash stays on. Some initial panic and consulting of the manual eventually leads us to 'stuff it, it's a hire car, just keep driving.' We assume this is a 'rite of passage' for all ANZAC car hirers as the very same thing happened to the kiwis and Jo and her gang in their hire cars. We have three recommendations for wineries from yesterday's walking tour. The waitress at 'Downtown and Vine,' has kindly given us the good oil. Lady P has agreed to be skipper, allowing Flashman to conduct the bulk of the research. So, generously, he agrees to limit such research to three wineries, with spitting optional. We enjoy a relaxed day of tasting at Boeger Winery, Placerville; Lava Cap Winery also in Placerville.
It is here that the couple standing next to us hear our Australian accent and say G'day. She's from Sydney, married to a Californian and has been living here eight years. Her Aussie accent is still fairly strong, so how do we sound? Anyway a good session. Last is Madrona Winery in Camino, where we do 10 of the 11 wines on offer but from the reds through to the whites. The winemaker explains that the high altitude produces fairly acidic wines and the reverse of the usual tasting order seems to work better for them. Worked for Flashman. We purchase two bottles at each winery. An exceptional Chardonnay and Pinot Gris and from some of the very good reds tasted, a Sangiovese and a not so typical Californian, a blend of Shiraz and Cabernet Sauvignon - this style copied from the winemaker's time spent in Australia on a research trip a bit like ours. Mid afternoon sees us heading back to Sacramento to do the other side of the road at the shopping outlets. Many hours later (well, it felt like it), Lady P emerges without a single purchase. Back home in reasonably good traffic conditions, where we both manufacture a stunning smoked salmon salad and pasta from our supplies and crack the chardy. Bliss.
Our expedition to Sacramento and the wineries beyond
Wednesday 12 August. An early departure sees Lady P and Flashman heading for Napa and beyond. She of course has planned the route, entered it into her phone and knows the mileage and timings to perfection so Flashy takes a turn behind the wheel and Lady P enjoys the views. As a back up, he fires up 'The Bitch'. True to form, she keeps on saying 'no satellite coverage' for half the trip, despite being on the only road (freeway) north east. Napa is a beautiful little town and as we are reasonably early, we park easily and locate the ABC Bakery, picked from Trip Advisor by Lady P (of course). Reading the write ups, we think - pancakes and pastries, but oh no, there is the full monty of eggs, bacon, sandwiches, fruit - gosh so Californian. Everything made on the premises, including the wonderful breads and pastries. Lady P has an orange, yoghurt cake and cappuccino; Flashy a breakfast burger and Americano coffee. "double shot" she asks. "Let's live dangerously," he says. Without trying to out do that famous Melbourne hamburger blogger, I'd like to describe the fantastic breakfast burger, because it's not what you might think, being American and all. Firstly it was smallish, just what you need for breakfast. The bun a beautiful and tasty, lightly toasted brioche. Sitting on on the base was a hand ground, medium cooked, beef patty, topped by two small but perfectly cooked crispy bacon strips and topped by a runny poached egg. Nothing else. Just that. Heaven! Flashy's small coffee, while good, was the size of a swimming pool. Lady P's cake was moist and tasty. Er, let me rephrase that, her breakfast orange cake was fragrant, moist and tasty. You get the picture. Off we go again, not pursuing the Napa commercial wineries, oh no, we are heading for those east of Sacramento, where there is much less commercialisation. Surprisingly, on the side of the road outside of Sacramento, we found the Vacaville Outlet Mall. Disappointing for Lady P, as she looked all over and only found a Calvin Klein leather jacket for Flashy and a new pair of boat shoes for him as well, for a fraction of the normal price. He's happy. Have to run though, Lady P has booked a culinary walking tour of K Street in Sacramento. We need to find the parking lot, park, walk to the Hyatt and find a mysterious woman who is leading the tour. We make it with 5 minutes to spare and yes, 'The Bitch' actually found a satellite, eventually and helped (a bit). Our guide, Ciara, was a lovely young woman (20-30 yrs) who informed us that we were the only customers, so let's go. Both K Street and Sacramento
downtown is very much like Melbourne. Lots of Plane trees lining wide boulevards and tram cars in the street. The tour was fantastic and so surprising. First stop was a Mexican restaurant legend called Mayahuel - a vault for the storage of unique and personal Tequila, lines one entire wall. Now you all know, Flashman always says "Good; and Mexican food; don't belong in the same sentence." Well, I take it back. This was the most amazing combination of little tastes that we never see on most Mexican restaurant menus anywhere. Freshly made corn chips and a spicy dip, was served to accompany their signature cocktail. This is a mix of watermelon and lime juice, agave nectar, ice and tequila
(in usual circumstances, but not including mid afternoon walks). The glass rim was dipped in a salty/limey chili mix and Flashy considers this would work just as well with vodka.Next a soup of smoky chili, corn and black beans - truly stunning; then another soup (these are tiny dishes) of roasted green chili and cream with a little toast round with smashed chili on the side. Medium hot, so all good with the internals.
Off we head to a lunch bistro/come sandwich joint,called Ambrosia, serving the lunch crowd from the nearby Capitol. French inspired, we sample a tasty panini and side salad ( yes, that's bloody Italian, I know). Next was the best Vegetarian restaurant (called 'Mother') in California, or maybe Sacramento or something, but it was a highly regarded vegetarian restaurant. We had panko crumbed, deep fried mushroom slices. They were terrific, so don't let anyone tell you that Flashy is biased to pork. Across the road, to the famous Bernado Restaurant. Here we had a small sample of the peanut butter flavoured noodles.Yep, I get all the questions about Italian restaurant, noodles etc, but it is a menu classic and just great. All made by hand from basic ingredients. So, here we pause to reflect on the Californian cuisine and food philosophy. Here it is about farm to fork; and they take it very seriously. Where else, in US or Australia, would you find restaurants actually making their own bread, dressings, sauces and mayonnaise? Go California, I say. Old Hippies man! It is a great experience and so different to hot dogs and donuts. We were well satiated, but Ciara took us further into the town, deviating to show us the local Cathedral and views from the 7th floor of an old hotel - all off the script. And there's more. A candy shop to taste chocolate and fudge. Yes, we did. Then at 5pm, we enter the last venue, a wine bar called 'Downtown and Vine, Urban Wine Country.' This was quite up market and delivered an amuse of salad and prosciutto and warm blue cheese with pear on a small crostini, along with three wines from the local area. All were 8/10. '14 Sonoma Sangiovese, '13 Clarksburg Pinot Grigio and a '12 Barbera from Amador. Shades of things to come for sure. Back to the parking lot, locate the hire car without too much aggro and fire up the 'Bitch' again to head out of town via some beautiful mansion studded streets that remind us of Hyde Park in Adelaide. Scenes of American soapies spring to mind with lush green lawns, beautiful manicured gardens and the swing hanging off the large tree on the pavement. The basket ball hoop was - well on the street against the kerb and the white Adirondack chairs with coloured cushions were all set up on the front lawn in a circle along with the table for refreshments. Must be a 'street party' we think but a sign reveals all - 'Therapy session'. "Only in America'! Now, we are winging it tonight. No booking at our intended stop of Auburn, the home of the 1848 gold rush, cowboys, sheriffs and bad guys and the 131 year old Power Mansion, where we a) hope to find it; and b) we hope to stay. After some travel tension (Russell and Jaqui, you'll understand) we manage to find the B&B/Hotel. It's wide open but there is no one about at all. Oh, well, let's go next door to the brewery of the same name - maybe there's a connection. We do. And guess what, the barman, Alfred Lee of obvious Chinese origin, is the owner of the Power Mansion and the Brewery (it has 101 different beers). We manage to check in, drop bags and have some beverages in the bar, including a flight of beers for Flashy and a very strong GnT for Lady P.
Do we need dinner? Probably not, but a walk about the local area makes us think of maybe a pizza and a glass of red. Nah, let's go back to the BnB. Well, what do you think happened next? Just near the back of our little boudoir, we notice the street full of cars and what tha? Why are they there? Well, 60's rock n roll live music is coming from one of the shop fronts. Blimey, it's a bar! We peer in and discover that the place is pumping and the entire crowd is in their 60's, that's years old. Grey hair, ageing hippies and the best Everley Brothers, Dire Straits, Eagles, CCWR just blowing out on to the street. We immediately enter, take a table and order cocktails. Ah, that's why the cars are there. Now Flashy records the event as 'The Cable Car Bar' and 'Two Shots Band'. Lady P, next morning, corrects him by stating that we were actually at the 'Club Car' and the band (two fantastic 60 yr olds) was called 'Double Shot'. Close I reckon, and indicative of the night as it unfolds
here. Cocktails of 'Smokin Revolver' (bourbon based with a garnish of crispy bacon across the top and 'the Prosperity' for Lady P with Buffalo wings and Shrimp, followed by many Jack on the Rocks at the bar while the band just rocked, man. As all patrons were eligible for senior discounts, there was no glass throwing or fighting on the dance floor, although some without hip and knee replacements did a bit of groovin to the Stones 'Satisfaction'. Now here is where it gets really creepy. Of course we don't have an accent, so the kind folk we were drinking with, asked, 'Where y'all from?' Orstraliah, we say. Well sure as eggs, this gal comes up and says, 'I'm from New Zealand.' It turns out that not only is she from NZ, but she used to live in Titirangi (Lady P's childhood hangout), her mum is in the very same Retirement Village in Auckland as Lady P's mum; she went to school with Lady P's brother; and Lady P has actually met this gal's mum in Pinesong Retirement Village. Well, you could have blown us down with a feather (probably most of the patrons as well). Much cahootin followed and mobile phones were brought out to show the bar photos of the mums, lots of huggin and kissin and a celebratory Bailleys on ice for Lady P before Granny was phoned from the floor of the actual bar with the good news. What a night. What a bar and what a band. We eventually retire to our room where we have a large, hot, soak in the old claw foot bath and crash.
downtown is very much like Melbourne. Lots of Plane trees lining wide boulevards and tram cars in the street. The tour was fantastic and so surprising. First stop was a Mexican restaurant legend called Mayahuel - a vault for the storage of unique and personal Tequila, lines one entire wall. Now you all know, Flashman always says "Good; and Mexican food; don't belong in the same sentence." Well, I take it back. This was the most amazing combination of little tastes that we never see on most Mexican restaurant menus anywhere. Freshly made corn chips and a spicy dip, was served to accompany their signature cocktail. This is a mix of watermelon and lime juice, agave nectar, ice and tequila
(in usual circumstances, but not including mid afternoon walks). The glass rim was dipped in a salty/limey chili mix and Flashy considers this would work just as well with vodka.Next a soup of smoky chili, corn and black beans - truly stunning; then another soup (these are tiny dishes) of roasted green chili and cream with a little toast round with smashed chili on the side. Medium hot, so all good with the internals. Off we head to a lunch bistro/come sandwich joint,called Ambrosia, serving the lunch crowd from the nearby Capitol. French inspired, we sample a tasty panini and side salad ( yes, that's bloody Italian, I know). Next was the best Vegetarian restaurant (called 'Mother') in California, or maybe Sacramento or something, but it was a highly regarded vegetarian restaurant. We had panko crumbed, deep fried mushroom slices. They were terrific, so don't let anyone tell you that Flashy is biased to pork. Across the road, to the famous Bernado Restaurant. Here we had a small sample of the peanut butter flavoured noodles.Yep, I get all the questions about Italian restaurant, noodles etc, but it is a menu classic and just great. All made by hand from basic ingredients. So, here we pause to reflect on the Californian cuisine and food philosophy. Here it is about farm to fork; and they take it very seriously. Where else, in US or Australia, would you find restaurants actually making their own bread, dressings, sauces and mayonnaise? Go California, I say. Old Hippies man! It is a great experience and so different to hot dogs and donuts. We were well satiated, but Ciara took us further into the town, deviating to show us the local Cathedral and views from the 7th floor of an old hotel - all off the script. And there's more. A candy shop to taste chocolate and fudge. Yes, we did. Then at 5pm, we enter the last venue, a wine bar called 'Downtown and Vine, Urban Wine Country.' This was quite up market and delivered an amuse of salad and prosciutto and warm blue cheese with pear on a small crostini, along with three wines from the local area. All were 8/10. '14 Sonoma Sangiovese, '13 Clarksburg Pinot Grigio and a '12 Barbera from Amador. Shades of things to come for sure. Back to the parking lot, locate the hire car without too much aggro and fire up the 'Bitch' again to head out of town via some beautiful mansion studded streets that remind us of Hyde Park in Adelaide. Scenes of American soapies spring to mind with lush green lawns, beautiful manicured gardens and the swing hanging off the large tree on the pavement. The basket ball hoop was - well on the street against the kerb and the white Adirondack chairs with coloured cushions were all set up on the front lawn in a circle along with the table for refreshments. Must be a 'street party' we think but a sign reveals all - 'Therapy session'. "Only in America'! Now, we are winging it tonight. No booking at our intended stop of Auburn, the home of the 1848 gold rush, cowboys, sheriffs and bad guys and the 131 year old Power Mansion, where we a) hope to find it; and b) we hope to stay. After some travel tension (Russell and Jaqui, you'll understand) we manage to find the B&B/Hotel. It's wide open but there is no one about at all. Oh, well, let's go next door to the brewery of the same name - maybe there's a connection. We do. And guess what, the barman, Alfred Lee of obvious Chinese origin, is the owner of the Power Mansion and the Brewery (it has 101 different beers). We manage to check in, drop bags and have some beverages in the bar, including a flight of beers for Flashy and a very strong GnT for Lady P.
Do we need dinner? Probably not, but a walk about the local area makes us think of maybe a pizza and a glass of red. Nah, let's go back to the BnB. Well, what do you think happened next? Just near the back of our little boudoir, we notice the street full of cars and what tha? Why are they there? Well, 60's rock n roll live music is coming from one of the shop fronts. Blimey, it's a bar! We peer in and discover that the place is pumping and the entire crowd is in their 60's, that's years old. Grey hair, ageing hippies and the best Everley Brothers, Dire Straits, Eagles, CCWR just blowing out on to the street. We immediately enter, take a table and order cocktails. Ah, that's why the cars are there. Now Flashy records the event as 'The Cable Car Bar' and 'Two Shots Band'. Lady P, next morning, corrects him by stating that we were actually at the 'Club Car' and the band (two fantastic 60 yr olds) was called 'Double Shot'. Close I reckon, and indicative of the night as it unfolds
here. Cocktails of 'Smokin Revolver' (bourbon based with a garnish of crispy bacon across the top and 'the Prosperity' for Lady P with Buffalo wings and Shrimp, followed by many Jack on the Rocks at the bar while the band just rocked, man. As all patrons were eligible for senior discounts, there was no glass throwing or fighting on the dance floor, although some without hip and knee replacements did a bit of groovin to the Stones 'Satisfaction'. Now here is where it gets really creepy. Of course we don't have an accent, so the kind folk we were drinking with, asked, 'Where y'all from?' Orstraliah, we say. Well sure as eggs, this gal comes up and says, 'I'm from New Zealand.' It turns out that not only is she from NZ, but she used to live in Titirangi (Lady P's childhood hangout), her mum is in the very same Retirement Village in Auckland as Lady P's mum; she went to school with Lady P's brother; and Lady P has actually met this gal's mum in Pinesong Retirement Village. Well, you could have blown us down with a feather (probably most of the patrons as well). Much cahootin followed and mobile phones were brought out to show the bar photos of the mums, lots of huggin and kissin and a celebratory Bailleys on ice for Lady P before Granny was phoned from the floor of the actual bar with the good news. What a night. What a bar and what a band. We eventually retire to our room where we have a large, hot, soak in the old claw foot bath and crash.
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
POPOS in San Francisco
Privately owned public open spaces or POPOS are written up and applauded as spaces in the foyers, lane ways, entrances etc of private buildings, that are used by the public. Ah ha, sounds like a SF idea, but really, they are just little spaces like we have in Melbourne and Sydney at the front of many public buildings. Don't get me wrong here, I'm just a bit underwhelmed at all the hype over them. Anyway we headed off for more walking around SF, looking for all these POPOS, which is an excuse to explore more of the city, so all good. I'm sure Lady P will elaborate on the aesthetic and architectural nature of the POPOS. One of the good things we discovered on arrival at the Ferry Building, was the Farmers' Market and the pop up food stalls. We could not go past the pizza and homemade lemonade for a late breakfast.
The POPOS, some 68 of them in total are all rated by the SF Planning and Urban Research Association so recognizing the short attention span of my travel companion, I selectively chose those that rated 'Excellent' no less. Off course the Financial district of SF where many of these are located for office workers, bankers and the like can seek refuge in their lunch hour is undergoing huge development, often across two blocks do unfortunately some of the POPOS that read brilliantly with scupltures, water features etc included were obviously 'in wraps' or demolished as bigger better outside garden areas were being constructed. Never the less we discovered many little hidden gems including one on the 15th floor of one of the local Banks where several employees were resting under the olive trees and enjoying the colourful planter boxes that adorned a large open roof top space with glimpses across to the bay. the gardens were in all cases refined and immaculately kept and I'm afraid I have yet to find similar within the towering office block melee of Melbourne or Sydney. Laneways, yes and I do recall the odd Brisbane laneway with greenery but these POPOS were just a little more and there had obviously been some serious planning behind their development over several years.
After descending the Bank building we were surprised to see a little Irish Bar, the 'Irish Times'. So of course, we had to have a Guinness and a shandy and some chili cheese fries (what a wonderful combination). Then home to Berkeley with some salad goodies from the local supermarket for our salmon patties dinner.
The POPOS, some 68 of them in total are all rated by the SF Planning and Urban Research Association so recognizing the short attention span of my travel companion, I selectively chose those that rated 'Excellent' no less. Off course the Financial district of SF where many of these are located for office workers, bankers and the like can seek refuge in their lunch hour is undergoing huge development, often across two blocks do unfortunately some of the POPOS that read brilliantly with scupltures, water features etc included were obviously 'in wraps' or demolished as bigger better outside garden areas were being constructed. Never the less we discovered many little hidden gems including one on the 15th floor of one of the local Banks where several employees were resting under the olive trees and enjoying the colourful planter boxes that adorned a large open roof top space with glimpses across to the bay. the gardens were in all cases refined and immaculately kept and I'm afraid I have yet to find similar within the towering office block melee of Melbourne or Sydney. Laneways, yes and I do recall the odd Brisbane laneway with greenery but these POPOS were just a little more and there had obviously been some serious planning behind their development over several years.
After descending the Bank building we were surprised to see a little Irish Bar, the 'Irish Times'. So of course, we had to have a Guinness and a shandy and some chili cheese fries (what a wonderful combination). Then home to Berkeley with some salad goodies from the local supermarket for our salmon patties dinner.
Monday at home in Berkeley
A relaxed day today, Monday 10th, with a sleep in and admin such as blog updates and planning for the rest of the week. Well, Lady P does the planning (excellent job too) and Flashy makes the coffee. Mid afternoon we decide to walk up the hill and do a right hand circuit of the main street, Solano Ave, which our street, Neilson St, sort of cuts in half, one part being the suburb of Berkeley and the other being Albany. So, today Albany gets the nod. Down one side and up the other is the plan and it is a lovely walk looking at the various Tibetan, Indian, Thai and such restaurants, little bars and a whole lot of hair and nail salons. A quick text to Joanne and Lady P has the correct pharmacological name for tummy upset medicine and an equivalent of paracetamol, which we purchase at the local chemist. At the end of the street we hit San Pablo St and guess what we find, which delays our return? Well, it's not a flower shop matey, it's a bar with 37 different brews on tap. Oh so much choice. Lady P suggests Flashy have a flight of beers so he chooses carefully, making sure to progress from a light IPA through to a serious stout. So, 'Heretic Evil Cousin Double IPA' is followed by 'Sonoma Springs Uncle Jack's Kolsch', 'Sierra Nevada Hoptimum Imperial IPA' and 'Port Brewing Santa's Little Helper Bourbon Barrel Stout'.
All were exceptionally delicious, with Lady P stealing most of the Kolsch. The star of the flight was the stout. Without doubt the best stout Flashman has ever tasted and you know he has tasted a lot. A decision to have another (stand alone) stout was brought about by his suspicion that Santa's Little Helper was even better than Guinness. At 13.5% alcohol, he decides on a small glass rather than a pint. The verdict is in. Best ever stout. It tasted like a liquid Christmas pudding and certainly time in a bourbon barrel before bottling has imparted exquisite flavours. So, refreshed we head up the other side of the street and again discover more of our little neighbourhood, including Schmit's Pub. What another find that is.
A real public house in the old English fashion including a nice fireplace in the 'lounge room', a garden out the back and a porch in the front and Guinness and English beers. In one corner is a display of smoking pipes and large glass jars of tobacco. While relaxing in a lounge chair with a glass of 'Speckled Hen', we notice a lady pay the barman and get a single cigarette paper. She proceeds to the tobacco jars, selects her blend and rolls a smoke. Soon after a gentleman does the same. They enjoy their rollie on the veranda. A quick stop at Safeway for some steak and veg for tonight's dinner and we complete our little neighbourhood walk.
Monday, August 10, 2015
Sunday - a day of rest for some, family catch up for others
Flashman decides he needs a day at home, so while Lady P prepares for more SF adventures, he sleeps in, reads, blogs and wanders up to the local Safeway for delicious salad and chicken supplies for when Lady P returns. Great to still be in PJ's at 2pm and have two beers before even showering.
Meanwhile Lady P literally runs to the local 
BART station some 20 mins away in order to catch the 9.42am train to the city. Sunday trains are only 20mins apart and time is off the essence as there are things to see and places to go. She meets up with the A team (read adults, Aussi's or whatever) but essentially Jo, Steph and Adam and advises re travelling on the famous SF cable car. The queue is at least a block and a half long at the turntable on Powell St but by moving up towards Union Square we are able to secure a spot after only 1/2 hr and ride up the steep slopes and down the other side assisting the 'brakeman' on the way as we are hanging on the back verandah of the cable car. A stroll along the old Fisherman's wharf promenade leads us to our destination, the Ghiradelli chocolate factory. Mmmmm - another tick off Steph's list and the chocolate wasn't bad either. Just to ensure we walked off a few calories Lady P took on the tour guide role and led the A team up a steep flight of stairs and through a delightful neighbourhood of San Francisco known as Pacific Heights. Not a tourist in sight and stunning typical SF houses cheek by jowl with delightful gardens and really interesting architecture. It was bliss and even in the hot
El Presidio de San Francisco
Saturday 8 August sees Lady P, Flashman and the Major up and away to SF on the now familiar BART to explore the Presidio. But first, we line up for the cable car ride up the hill. Tick off the experience, but Flashman is a bit underwhelmed. Lady P has found a walking tour of the Presidio, so we need to get there by 1.00 PM. This necessitates a cab ride, as the delay on another cable car would cut it too fine. Luckily for us, the cab is nearby. A strange driver he turns out to be. Probably Russian or Eastern European extraction by the accent and we get a real dose of that when he takes a mobile call from, we assume, his long suffering wife. He heads off for the Presidio in a round about route, so Lady P leans over from the back and shows him the correct route on her maps app on the phone. Now this could have turned out one of two ways. Either, as Flashman fears, he could explode into a filthy Russian temperament and throw the phone out the window, or as actually happened, take the phone and use it as a map to deliver us inside the Presidio with a minute to spare.
The Presidio (means armed fort in Spanish) is now a National Park. A 400 hectare, beautifully wooded corner of the city, with views over the Golden Gate. It was set up as an armed fort by the Spanish in 1776. Then after the Spanish/Mexican War of 1821 it reverted to Mexican control and was expanded. In 1846 the Americans took the Presidio as part of the Mexican/American war, so it went from Spanish to Mexican to American control and stayed that way until 1994, when the US Army reluctantly departed and handed it over to the NP Service. During the US Army occupation, the building housed troops fro the Civil
War 1861-65, the 1898 Spanish/American War where troops bound for the Philipines were staged, through to the Indian wars of 1898 and on to the departure of Brigadier General John J. 'Black Jack' Pershing as Commander of the American Expeditionary Force to WW1. From 1915 to their departure in 1994, the US military extensively developed and maintained the facilities, including beautiful timber Officers' cottages, three story brick soldiers' barracks and ancillary facilities like a military hospital, dispensary, ambulance station, fire station and parade grounds. Interestingly, from 1883 to 1903, the Army decided to convert the Presidio, which was situated on land that was not much more than sand dunes, into a forest to "crown the ridges and cover areas of sand and marsh." In typical military tradition, 400,000 seedlings were planted (all in nice tittle rows, standard placing, tight formation, just like soldiers on parade). Many seedlings were imported from around the world, including what are now massive eucalyptus trees from Australia and pohutukawa's from NZ. So having all this history, we met our volunteer tour guide, Jack. He was about 87 years old, whispered a lot and took off like a rabbit from one stop to another. Even faster than Lady P and that's saying something. However it was a wonderfully informative tour, through a very well kept and laid out, 200 year old military complex. When the National Parks took over, the various buildings were leased out and George Lucas also come in and invested $350 million in redeveloping his film making HQ at the Presidio.
Two hours later we adjourned to the Officers Club, now occupied by a nice little restaurant and had some Mexican dips, deep fried pork belly and a couple of sangrias, before cabbing it down hill to Embarcardio for the BART home. Inspired by all the Mexican and Spanish history, we walked around the corner of our Berkeley cottage to a Mexican restaurant for a huge plate of beans, rice, tortillas and other Mexican stuff for dinner. Tas was easily cajoled into a pitcher of Sangria and Roger into some tortilla's and dip for starters so we all rolled down the hill home with Lady P lighting the way with the torch on her mobile phone in order to prevent the older gentleman from tripping over the very uneven sidewalks in the local streets.
The Presidio (means armed fort in Spanish) is now a National Park. A 400 hectare, beautifully wooded corner of the city, with views over the Golden Gate. It was set up as an armed fort by the Spanish in 1776. Then after the Spanish/Mexican War of 1821 it reverted to Mexican control and was expanded. In 1846 the Americans took the Presidio as part of the Mexican/American war, so it went from Spanish to Mexican to American control and stayed that way until 1994, when the US Army reluctantly departed and handed it over to the NP Service. During the US Army occupation, the building housed troops fro the Civil
Alcatraz
Alcatraz has been booked for tonight (Friday), so we attend to the essentials of laundry. Three large bags, representing just about everything apart from what we are wearing (we being the male members of the contingent) and some smalls from Lady P, who manages her wardrobe far more efficiently, are deposited at the local Chinese laundry. Despite their assurances that they know what goes where, we are dubious. There are bags and racks of clothes everywhere and in no apparent order. Nonetheless, we collect our tickets and depart, agreeing to return the next day. To fill in some time before we head to town, Lady P takes us on a tour of the local neighbourhood, noticing that the architecture and obvious value in the homes increase with the elevation.
Late afternoon sees us heading to town for lunch at Fisherman's Wharf Pier 1, where, in deference to Flashman's sudden onset upset stomach, the team have a bread, cheese, olives and pate lunch. Flashman picks at the bread and has a glass of red. At 5 PM we meet up with Joanne, Steph and Adam who have arrived from their road trip from Seattle and board the ferry for the short 1.4 mile ride to Alcatraz.
The facility is now run by the National Parks Service and hasn't been a Federal Penitentiary since 1963. The Spanish settled the area in 1776 and the Mexicans continued to operate the Fort until the Yankees took half of Mexico in the American / Mexican War in 1846 and thus acquired the island. The US Army then took over and started using it as a prison and fort and by 1861 it had 111 cannon, rows of open gun emplacements and a fortified sally port to protect the buildings. In 1907 the Army decommissioned the fort and the US Military Guard took over and began building a huge concrete cell house. In the 1930's it was transferred from the military to the Dept of Justice as a Federal Prison for high-profile, maximum security prisoners. Alcatraz was home to Al Capone, Machine Gun Kelly and one poor sod who did 25 years for robbing a store of $60. What he did not know, was that there was a post office agency attached to the store, which made his crime a Federal one and thus time in a Federal Pen. The birdman of Alcatraz, Robert Stroud, was also a guest. He never kept birds at Alcatraz at all, (he was transferred from Leavenworth where he conducted his famous bird studies). Bobby Kennedy as AG closed the prison in 1963 due to its high cost of operation. The audio tour was very well done and the return trip at 8.40 pm provided some excellent photos of the city skyline, sunset and the bridges.
Late afternoon sees us heading to town for lunch at Fisherman's Wharf Pier 1, where, in deference to Flashman's sudden onset upset stomach, the team have a bread, cheese, olives and pate lunch. Flashman picks at the bread and has a glass of red. At 5 PM we meet up with Joanne, Steph and Adam who have arrived from their road trip from Seattle and board the ferry for the short 1.4 mile ride to Alcatraz.
The facility is now run by the National Parks Service and hasn't been a Federal Penitentiary since 1963. The Spanish settled the area in 1776 and the Mexicans continued to operate the Fort until the Yankees took half of Mexico in the American / Mexican War in 1846 and thus acquired the island. The US Army then took over and started using it as a prison and fort and by 1861 it had 111 cannon, rows of open gun emplacements and a fortified sally port to protect the buildings. In 1907 the Army decommissioned the fort and the US Military Guard took over and began building a huge concrete cell house. In the 1930's it was transferred from the military to the Dept of Justice as a Federal Prison for high-profile, maximum security prisoners. Alcatraz was home to Al Capone, Machine Gun Kelly and one poor sod who did 25 years for robbing a store of $60. What he did not know, was that there was a post office agency attached to the store, which made his crime a Federal one and thus time in a Federal Pen. The birdman of Alcatraz, Robert Stroud, was also a guest. He never kept birds at Alcatraz at all, (he was transferred from Leavenworth where he conducted his famous bird studies). Bobby Kennedy as AG closed the prison in 1963 due to its high cost of operation. The audio tour was very well done and the return trip at 8.40 pm provided some excellent photos of the city skyline, sunset and the bridges.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)