Well I might as well make a habit of keeping this travelblog updated, so here it goes.
I ended up in San Francisco rather spontaneously and so far its been great, except for a few blunders, but thats almost expected at this point.
After a slight delay at the airport I was soon on BART heading towards downtown SF, I was surprised at how easily it was to find a train and take it to the right destination. I must be used too used to figuring out foreign logistics in any language but English. The BART trains here are real comfy and big… I could easily have a great nights sleep on their “couches”.
A short while later I arrive at my stop, powell street station. I am immediately bombarded by flashing lights and trendy restaurants. Having dodged the flashing lights, I start to make my way to my hostel following the very vague directions I got from INTERNET. The directions lead me to an alleyway and the hostel is behind the dumpster at the end of the alley. As i enter the hostel I notice that its mostly under construction. When I get to the front desk I ring to check in…. No response (i can hear the bell ringing in a room upstairs) I ring again, no response. I man walks out of the shower and asks me if im checking in.
“yes” i said,
but he didn’t work there, he was a traveler like myself. He tells me that they guys that run the hostel are “fucking lazy” and hits the ringer a few more times… no response. Being the helpful person he was, he went up to the hostel-keepers room and says that theres someone to check in.
“fuck off” he says, “its past check in time”
It was 11:30, 30 min past check in…. I blame the delay at the airport.
I ring the bell a few more times, then go up to the guys room to try to get him to check me in (i already had reservations at this point i should add). He doesn’t respond, but i can hear him watching TV very loudly. I go back to ring the bell again (which was actually the page button on a wireless telephone) and i hear him throw the phone across the hall upstairs. At this point I was very tired and jet lagged and just wanted to drop my bags and take a nap. Feeling like I diddn’t want to waste my $8 deposit on this craphole, I go upstairs and see the phone battery and cartridge on the floor.
“this must be worth at least $8 i thought” , so I took it in spite and tossed it in the dumpster down the street… I immediately felt better.

Now I was stuck trying to find a new hostel at 12am, and having no map or internet would prove to be very difficult. Luckily right at that time a local walked by me and said “hello”, I responded with a “hello” aswell, at which point he turned around and asked me if i needed anything. I thought he was trying to sell me drugs, which he might have been, but I told him that I need a cheap hostel to stay in for the night because those jerks down the road were too busy watching the simple life, or some other crap. He tells me he knows EVERRYTHING about the city, and that I can trust him. He takes off his shirt and shows me his chest, which looked like a microwaved strech armstrong figure with bellybuttons everywhere.
“ive been shot here, here, here, here, stabbed here and here…” he says
If thats not a sign of a trust worthy guy then I don’t know what is. He then goes off listing off all the hostels in the area and their prices per night. I was pretty impressed with his hostel knowledge of the area, and the fact that hes still alive after being shot in the stomach 4 times.
“wow” I said, “you’re one helpful guy”
He tells me about how most people rob and stab people for a living, but he helps people instead for money to feed his kids. What an honest guy. He walks me to a nice hostel, which is fully booked up and then he takes me to a different hostel down the street telling me about all the places we pass along the way. I felt like I had my own personal midnight tour guide. I get a room at the next hostel and give him some money for his help. I asked him about what cool things there are to do in the city and he goes off for 30 minutes about all the “cool shit” in the city and how much he loves the place. He told me where to go, how to get there, what to aviod and all sorts of goodies that the lonely planet wouldn’t be able to tell me (if i had one).
Afterwards we parted ways. I went to my room and he went home down the street. He tells me his name is Canada, maybe I will run into him again on my journeys around town.

The next day (today) I awoke to the sounds of construction.
“ahhh, the big city”
I roll off the top bunk and hop into the shower (after running to 7-11 to buy shampoo and soap). I stroll down a main street and grab a coffee and croissant, then park myself by some really neat looking buildings and art galleries while I enjoy the sights and warm dry air. I head down the street a little more and stumble across some sort of outdoor music festival / oracle business party / i’m not sure what. They were giving out blankets, which will come in handy im sure. I sit on a grass hill, enjoying the band and reading a mad magazine that I aquired along the way.
From there I head for the water… I get to the bay bridge… It looks like a long brige, kinda neat against the mountains in the background. I stroll northwards along the waterfront untill I finally hit pier 39, fishermans wharf, tourist city. Having blended in I walk around taking a look at all the sights in the area. I can see Alcatraz, the golden gate bridge and a pile of sea lions barking at boats. It really did smell like a sea lions ass (thanks for the warning Lisa).
At this point I felt that walking was way to slow for my liking so rented a bike-ing. I biked all the way down the beach, up and down a few crazy hills and happened to end up at ILM by chance. I took a detour to their grounds to find master yoda. Eventually I find him, he tells me nothing important, so I leave. This is the point that I realize that I really havent eaten anything since that croissant and that I was thirsty as hell. I grabbed myself an amazing taco and chips and ate them in less than 3 min flat.
From there I rode closer to the golden gate bridge .
“oh, a red bridge” I thought, took some pictures and then rode back to the wharf.
When I returned the bike I was greeted by the bike staff.
“how was your ride” she says.
“it was great, except my ass is killing me” (he bike seat was at a weird, extreme forward angle)
She points to the sign of the biking company… “blazing saddles”
I laugh
she laughs
I leave.

I leave to go back to my hostel, or the area that it is, when I realize… I have no idea what my hostel is called or what street its on. All I know is that its around the corner from an Indian restaurant and down the street from 711. I hop on the cable car free of charge because some lady gave me a ride all day free transit pass… thanks lady! I think I live at the end of the line, so thats where I will ride. This is my first time driving on the streets of SF and its goes like this: upppp…. downnnnn…upppppp….downnnnn….uuuupppppppp……downnnnn….etc,,,, END OF THE LINE. It was a less than exciting ride, as I was expecting a loop or corkscrew or something. When I get off the cable car I see my 711.
“how convenient” I thought.
And this is when I walked by this internet cafe.

Using my clairvoyance, this is what I did tomorrow.

After waking up I jump into the shower again to start my day. Theres no hot water so I shower in ICE cold water… kind of refreshing. Then I go down the street and hop on a bus to take me to Berkley. Right at the next stop Keanu Reeves gets on and screams “if this bus goes under 50 mph we all get blown up”
Everyone on the bus cheers.
As we plow through the streets up and down all these crazy hills we get to a gap in the bridge.
“im gonna jump the bridge” yells Keanu
at which point I hop off the bus and onto the roof of a cab…. oh shit, my internet time here is up.
I’ll finish this later.