Ten years dreaming America here we come

We arrived into San Francisco to one of the outstanding days this year. The temperature was well above normal with clear sunny skies. A perfect antidote to sleep deprivation: FUN.

Gerry and Ponch!

We caught the BART (not Simpson) train service into the city. Outstanding. Quick, clean, efficient and safe.

The initial impressions of the city where of awe. Mostly because we surfaced into the best part of town amongst a friendly, happy population enjoying a stunner of a day. Fantastic architecture everywhere and giant sized American flags fluttering everywhere you looked. Cops on Harley's, Yellow Cabs, the whole shooting match.

The timing was perfect to get into a shower, sort our luggage out and head out to pick up our rented Harley's.

Do you know the way to San Jose?

Being driven out about 30 mins from our hotel gave us time to get into the whole right hand side of the road thing. Still all the cars seemed to have their steering wheels on the wrong side to our fresh eyes.

Surprisingly my preconceptions of the typical American yank tank where unfounded. The street's are overwhelmingly buzzing with Mazda 3's, Nissan's, Minis, Toyota's etc etc. Even quite a few Smart cars. Sure there are a few more Ford F150s per square mile but much, much less then anticipated.

Also blown out of the water was the "number of morbidly obese" expectation. Most of the population look healthy and fit. We saw a handful of truly giant people but actually the average statistic in the CBD would probably embarrass Wellington in this regard. Small town America will no doubt be different.

In fact as the day wore on it struck us how the vehicle fleet and flora could easily be transplanted into UnZuD and you wouldn't blink an eye.

The only superficial difference was the Afro American population who look and sound quite different to the Kiwi, Aussie, Pasifica populations at home.

Not superficial where the homeless rummaging through rubbish bins and begging. Blanket man needs a supermarket trolley. All the good bums have one here.

Quite sad to witness and more then one appeared to be under the influence of something other then alcohol.

Our ride back took a detour into San Jose. Expect Burt Bacharach to re release the well know song as " NOW WE know the way to San Jose"

The temp hit 100 degrees. Bloody hell. Then as we descended back into San Fran a localised misty fog came in behind a stiff wind. 60 degrees now. Brrr.

Do you want a bib and line dance with that? 

Gerry and I took a long walk to Fisherman's Wharf and had a Fishy/Craby meal at a local establishment known as "Joes"

A waitress there who served buckets crab portions, wore the legend "Diamonds are forever but you never forget Crabs" on her T Shirt.

On the hour the music became painfully loud and the whole staff got up and did a sort on line dance to an 80s soundtrack.

We have had a coupe of occasions where the New Zealand accent obviously defeats the average American. I struggle to get people to understand me at times.

Tomorrow he head north to Garbaville. Happy days are here!!!