San Francisco, CA - 3130 Miles

We are finishing up our time in San Francisco and completed most of the usual tourist activities. Unfortunately while we were here it was...(pick at least three of the following - cold, windy, cloudy, hazy.) We went to the top of Coit Tower for the panoramic view of the city. Despite my pleas to climb the stairs I was told they were closed and I HAD to take the elevator. We went to Fisherman's Wharf for a good view of Alcatraz and to overpay for seafood.















We did the obligatory cable car rides. In fact the whole time we were here I steadfastly refused to move the car from its initial parking spot at the hotel. If we couldn't walk or take public transportation, we didn't go. Fortunately buses and trolleys were more user friendly in San Francisco than Dallas.















We watched cars descend Lombard St., supposedly the most crooked street in the world. The odor filling the air reminded me of the famous movie line, "I love the smell of burning brake pads in the morning. It smells like....victory." People live on the street and have garages opening on it but I'm guessing they don't go in or out any more than they have to. Cars backed up over two blocks climbing to the top to await their turn to go down. The road up seemed every bit as steep and was the typical straight road rather than winding. The uphill side was more entertaining since every time a car advanced its tires squealed to move forward before rolling into the car behind it. The occasional standard transmissions were the most entertaining. I'm guessing a few clutches didn't survive the day.

We visited Chinatown to overpay for Chinese food. We happened to see a parade complete with a marching band and floats with supporters of Falun Dafa. I had no idea what that meant and just hoped it didn't translate roughly to "Death to the White Devils". I later learned it was a philosophy of self improvement.















This also marks the one-month anniversary of being without our apartment. Our only problem was at our first hotel. The desk clerk requested my ID and asked, "Is this your correct address?".

"We really don't have an address," I replied. "We moved out of our apartment and are travelling for a few months. After that we'll get a place to live but until then we're technically homeless."

My attempt at a truthful explanation met a blank stare. Finally I followed his lead. "Yes, that is my correct address."

"Thank you. Things are much easier that way."

Ever since then when asked if the address on my ID is correct I simply reply, "Yes. Yes it is."