Hitchhiking our way across west USA - part 1

We were young, wild, free and broke. And we wanted to cross the border. So why not go hitchhiking? It sounds simple and it actually was. When Lavinia and I heard that we had 1,5 week off for Thanksgiving, we decided pretty soon that we wanted to do a big trip. Since I had planned to go South in January, and the North would be too cold by that time anyway, we decided to go to Portland, Seattle and Vancouver.

At first, we'd planned to rent a car for the roadtrip, but Big Sur and Yosemite had already taught us that renting a car in the US as an underaged (means under 25 for car rental companies) foreigner is pretty much impossible. The Greyhound and Amtrak were terribly expensive and I don't even want to talk about plane tickets. I'm not sure how and when I thought about hitchhiking, but all of a sudden the idea was there: let's just not book a ticket and try to make our way through three states and across the border.

I had always been fascinated by the idea of hitchhiking – for my loyal readers, you must know by now that everything that happens in On the Road, is romanticized by me – and after interviewing so many (female) hitchhikers for Humans on the Road, I knew it was still possible in today's dramatic world. Our fellow exchange students wished us good luck, but no, we were not scared. We'd bought pepperspray (and even smuggled it over the border, let's hope the government is not going to track this blog down!) and we knew what to do when a sketchy guy stopped and offered to take us in: just say ''No, thank you'' and walk away.

Fortunately, this never happened. We had 15 rides in total and none of them turned out to be a dangerous murderer or rapist. My mom and dad, and especially my aunt, if she reads this, would not be pleased by me talking so lightly about this subject, but hey, I'm alive and well! Anyway, my extremely artistic friend Yeji made an awesome sign for us, saying NORTH, PORTLAND. Throughout the trip, we received many compliments, but really, we gave all the credits to Yeji. The sign definitely rocked.

Before leaving, our biggest fear was that we wouldn't even make it out of San Francisco. It had been mentioned on the Internet that it was hard to hitchhike in the city, but there were some good places, for instance near the freeway entrance leading to the Golden Gate Bridge. So on Friday morning, around 12 pm (a bit late, due to the Thank God It's Thursday night before), we left our apartment and took the bus to the Bridge. Of course, we forgot the sign in the first shop we entered, even before getting on the bus, but thank god for the shop keeper that ran after us and made sure we'd never make that mistake again.

When we arrived at the entrance of the Golden Gate, we only had to wait for about 15 minutes when the first driver stopped. It was a guy of about 40 years old, in a good car (not that I know much about them) who could take us to Marin County, twenty minutes from the city. Not that far, but it was good to leave the city, we figured. He was on the phone for most of the ride, so we couldn't put the advice in practice our friend Blake had given us: talk to drivers, they're often as uncomfortable as you are. Our first driver dropped us off near the freeway and since the sign there said “Lucky Drive'' we figured we were fine. 

We were not. No one stopped for us in about thirty minutes and they all made weird signs with their hands. Moreover, they drove so fast that it seemed pretty hard for them to stop. We'd almost given up hope, when a police car stopped. Uh oh! What was wrong? Three policemen came over and told us that it's illegal to hitchhike near the freeway. ''Uhm, really? Ah, we didn't know...'' And in fact, we really didn't know, we hadn't prepared that well when it came to rules and regulations. ''If we see you doing this again, you're going to get a notification and if it happens three times, we'll arrest you''. Only one of the policemen, looking rather shy himself, was speaking and the rest stood next to him awkwardly staring at us. But it was the police in the US, after all, so we did as he said and walked to the highway.

And that turned out to be exactly the highway entrance we should have looked for - leading us to Highway 101! Immediately a car stopped and a friendly looking guy got out. Inside were two tiny, very ugly, dogs. The guy's name was Joe. Joe told us that he'd seen us hitchhiking near the freeway and he'd stopped, made a turn and followed us to where we were at that point. ''Have you never read Kerouac?'' he laughed. ''Uh, yes I have'', I answered, feeling offended. But Joe turned out to be pretty cool. He'd visited Burning Man for ten times already and he made his money doing all these small tasks, taking it easy and enjoying the Californian weather. Unfortunately Joe could only take us to Santa Rosa, where we stopped and were picked up quickly again by another guy, a heavy guy with a big car that took us for another twenty minutes.

All in all, we'd been lucky that Friday afternoon for having gotten three rides already, but none of them could bring us to a far destination. And we wanted to arrive in Portland the following day... In Santa Rosa, we waited for a long time but no one was willing to pick us two girls, who kept waving and smiling order to attract attention. We slowly began to lose faith in humanity... But then Lavi found an iPad on the side of the freeway entrance and a few minutes later there was José, an alternative looking girl with a beat looking car. ''Hop on in!'' she said and we knew the minute we met her, that we'd get along very well. José worked on a weed farm, trimming weed, just as almost every other young person in North-California and Oregon nowadays. In six weeks, she would earn up to 4000 to 6000 dollars, the only drawback being that she had to do the same boring and mindkilling movement for 10 hours every day.

José drove us along the wineries and redwoods. She took us for three hours north and we saw beautiful sunsets and talked about everything in life, from traveling to boy troubles. She dropped us off in Garberville, telling us that if we didn't get a ride that night, we might be able to sleep at her friend's place in Arcata. When we got out of the car, we first went to the supermarket and then looked for a good spot to continue our trip. Meanwhile, it'd gotten dark already (it gets dark around five now, yes, even in California...) and we had no luck catching a ride.

That's when we had our first encounter with the local patrol, a team of about 10 members, young and old, male and female, walking around Garberville and informing people about possibilities of weed trimming in the area. ''Do you girls know what you're doing??? Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? There are so many creeps in this country. Oh god, please don't do this'', is what they said. Imagine, 10 people around you nodding heads, with worried looks on their faces and repeating the advice ''Be safe!''. It was a very interesting situation. At a point, we agreed that it might not be a good idea to continue hitchhiking in the dark and so we started looking for a cheap motel. That turned out to be a naive illusion. I don't know about the other ghost towns in the US, for Garberville really is one, but they charged a $100 a night for a room. What. The. Fuck.

 

And so we entered a café to ask around for possibilities and then ran into three alternative looking guys who immediately recognized my Dutch accent (godverdomme) and invited us to a trimmers' ball in Redway. Though this invitation was tempting, Redway was only 5 minutes away from Garberville and it had only one motel. Not an option, thus. So after a beer we continued looking for motels and had almost decided to go for the $80 one, when we ran into the local patrol again. ''Whatever you do, don't book this motel! There are needles everywhere...'' As it turned out to be, Garberville was the hotspot for meth heads, who lived in the mountains and came to the village when they felt like harassing people. Where on earth had we ended up? One of the local patrol ladies called a motel for us to inform about prizes. A nice gesture, but all I could think was: why doesn't any of these people offer to host us? Apparently, I had become too used to Couchsurfing, since Lavi also said that it's kind of weird to offer your house to random hitchhikers on the street. 

True that, but now we ended up paying $60 each for a room in a motel in a sketchy town. I soon decided to get over my Dutch dislike of spending money and enjoy the warmness of the room (it was damn cold outside), the big beds and the television. We ended up watching Full House – Mary-Kate and Ashley, my big teenage idols! – and I fell asleep soon.

 

Only one day of hitchhiking behind us, and already so many stories to tell. Since I don't want to bother you with an unending page of adventures (after all, you might be busy with exams or work or just prefer watching shows rather than reading this, and hey, that's okay) I will divide the adventures into two, but probably three parts. So more interesting rides will follow, more cool Couchsurfing experiences and more awesome sightseeing and bar hopping in Portland, Seattle and Vancouver. To be continued!

A Patient On The Road

For those of you who are my friend on Facebook for more than a year already, you might know
that I have spent more than one day in a hospital whilst being on the road. Hospitals in Berlin seem to have a thing for me and always invite me right at the moment I have no time for them. But I've learned from the past, so I never go travelling without a good health insurance anymore. You never know what's out there, waiting to attack you. If it's not cystitis, it's a swarm of tiger mosquitoes, or, in this case... a poisonous plant. Nature is not fond of me.

So what happened exactly? About three weeks ago I woke up one morning with my legs covered in little zits. Ah, another mosquito who liked me a little too much, I thought. But the itch was unbearable, and the bites turned to blisters really soon. When I ran into Veerle at uni, it turned out that she had extremely itchy spots on her body too. She'd asked her professor and it turned out to be: poison oak. We probably got it during our hike in Big Sur, since we walked around with legs uncovered and it can take a couple of weeks until the poison oak rash starts to appear.

Since many of you probably don't know what this witch plant is - neither did I - let me explain it shortly. Poison oak is a plant that mainly grows close to the Pacific, so on the West Coast. It's similar to Poison ivy, which grows on the East Coast, and it's a plant that looks quite innocent but can do real harm. It's not deadly, nor lasting, but it's damn enjoying. The plant contains an oily sap called urushiol, that causes an allergic reaction and can stick to your clothes, so that you might reinfect yourselves over and over again. Pretty disgusting, yes!

After a couple of days I was convinced I had the same problem, because the spots had turned really dark red and started to show up on different parts of my body (luckily, not my face!). I made an appointment with the doctor as well - thank god appointments are free at university - and began another fun 10 days of antibiotics. Just before we were gonna go to Vegas, the city of intoxication :)

I also received a cream, which I was allowed to use two times a day. Not that much, if you die of itchiness all the time. When I had my second appointment at the doctor, the first thing she said when she looked at my legs, was: ''Oh my god!''. Thanks. She gave me bandage to keep me from scratching and to help the cream to really absorb. Very convenient in Vegas! But well, if my friend Nietzsche taught me one thing this semester, it's that you have to say ''yes'' to life and live it to the fullest. So, Vegas it was!

Emma, Lavinia and I had booked the Greyhound bus a couple of months before, and although I'd heard horror stories about this bus, I was very excited to hop on. If there's one American ''on the road'' thing, it's the Greyhound! Billy Joel sings about it on his fabulous ''New York State of Mind'', Kerouac writes about it, and now I could finally experience it too. Of course, there were some problems on the way, we had to change buses and it took us a few hours more than scheduled to arrive in Nevada. But we forgot about all of this the minute we drove from the isolated desert into the craziest city in the country: Viva Las Vegas!

Vegas is total madness. I can come up with many adjectives to describe the city, but madness might cover them all. Everything is based on the concept of making money, there's fast food everywhere, bars, fat Americans, casinos, pools. I honestly think some young Americans have thought they'd arrived in Europe the first time they went to Vegas, since it's crazy how much effort they've put into rebuilding the old European cities. Of course, the Eiffel Tower is very fake, but when you enter the Venetian, your mind is blown. They've created a small Venice in the middle of a shopping mall. Though it was a sunny morning outside, you feel like the evening has just started and the Italian restaurants are waiting to serve you. Your entire idea of time and space seems an illusion!

We'd booked one of the most amazing hostels I've ever stayed in: Hostel Cat. Really, if you're planning to book Vegas soon, DON'T book a fancy hotel, because I can guarantee you that you're gonna have a lot less fun. Hostel Cat knows what to do and where to go in Vegas (I sound like a sales person, I know). The manager has been able to sneak his guests into a pool party at the Monte Carlo for the last five years or so. He asks five dollars for the ride and what you get in return is access to a great pool, in the middle of the Strip, for which people pay 300 dollars a night. And we only paid 16 a night! About 30 people squeezed themselves into a small van, so everyone got to know each other pretty soon. What an adventure.

Since it was Halloween during our Vegas weekend, the city's craziness was doubled. My idea was to dress up as a scary fairy, so I bought wings, a headband and a tutu at Goodwill (best store in history) and I think I've never looked so pinkish before. No one believed I was gonna end up being scary, but with the help of a Dutch girl at the hostel, my face resembled the Joker's (or at least, I'd like to think so) and we were ready to ramble!

Whoever thinks Vegas is expensive, is wrong. At least, if you're a women, it's not. One of my friends gave me the contact details of a promotor, who put us on the guestlist for every single party at the big clubs in Vegas. Nicki Minaj, Steve Aoki, Tiësto, Hardwell, Afrojack. Vegas sure loves Dutch artists. In the end, it turned out to be a little less romantic than we thought, since the lines for the parties were extremely long and it'd take us two hours to get in. So what was the use of a guestlist, anyway?

Another problem was that we couldn't resist the temptation of intoxication (it's Vegas, after all!), so we ended up dancing in random bars with even more random people. I wrote about the Cara comparison before, but in Vegas it was even worse. People coming over to me and thinking they're the first ones mentioning it, people who wanted to take a picture with me. Even with face paint on my face, it couldn't be stopped. Ah well, I still take it as a compliment and besides, I'd found a soulmate in the hostel. Ryan Gosling's twin brother from Canada was there, so he knew what I was going through. Tough life...

On our last day, we recovered from our hangover on the rooftop of the Venetian, because, once again, women run the world in Vegas. Feminists might not enjoy the idea of girls being objectified, but I didn't mind that much. We deserve to be honoured, girls! So keep those party tickets and drinks coming :) The entrance to the pool also turned out to be free and they had an open bar! On top of that, it was 30 degrees and there was music. What else to wish for? A couple hours later, we were smashed back to reality. A 16-hour bus ride with shitty chairs, so sleeping was not an option either. The airco was too strong as well, so my body suffered quite a lot.

And so did my poison oak rash. Back in San Francisco, it seemed to get only worse, so that afternoon I went back to the doctor and accepted what I'd refused a week before: a prednisone cure. I didn't know that much about these medicines before, but I knew that they have many side effects and make you very vulnerable to any small sickness. In other words, poison to your body. But I really wanted to get rid of this rash, so I agreed with 20 days of prednisone. The funny thing is that they have the same effect as drugs in the beginning, so you feel very active and high. I didn't experience that much difference, but when I went running, it felt like I was flying. My own private doping experience!

At the moment, the spots have turned purple and the itch is almost gone. I will beat this plant, that's for sure. But Europeans amongst us, beware. There are some nasty plants out there in nature. As for me, I'm gonna stay in the city for a while. I wished our Vegas trip had lasted a little longer, but then again, a week might've been too much. The overload of capitalism would've killed me. I didn't gamble a lot by the way, since I was too intimidated by all those stern looking Asians. I was also slightly disappointed by the casinos, they seemed a lot more impressive on tv (in the great show ''Las Vegas'' for instance). In reality, it's mostly gamble machines, where sad and lonely people drink their beers and smoke their cigarettes in the hope of becoming rich one day.

So, unfortunately I didn't come back to San Francisco as a millionaire. I still have to pay attention to the costs of my groceries and drinks, but I've gotten pretty good at finding free events, so that's not a problem at all! I visited a free concert at Brick & Mortar in the Mission a couple days ago, I went to a cool Couchsurfing event yesterday and tonight is another First Fridays event in Oakland. So much to do, so little time. But I'm doing my best to stop thinking about the little time that's left and enjoy the States while I'm still here. On the side, I also have to write big essays, but since one of my topics is on Jim Morrison & Nietzsche, I don't mind that much. As Morrison said: ''No eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn''. Live your life to the fullest.

Escape from San Francisco

As the rain poured down, the dark clouds gathered. We were trying to make our way back to the car, but it was too crowded. Everyone had started to run, whilst covering their heads with bags and sweaters. We ran up the rocky stairs, but I had overlooked one slippery rock. A flashing light filled the sky and all we could hear was loud thunder. I tried to keep myself from falling but no, the rock slipped to the side and downwards I went. Our little expedition to the biggest tree in the world had turned into a dramatic scene. Thank god for our ability to relativize, because all we could do was laugh about it. What an adventurous weekend in California's wild nature.

No worries, my blog hasn't become a site for stereotypical short stories. I just thought I'd try this ''in medias res'' as a change. Moreover, this past weekend was perfect for some serious travel writing. ''The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn'' are nothing compared to a weekend on the road with the Dutchies - and our Italian accessory. A week ago we rented a car to drive to Big Sur and last weekend we went even further: to Sequoia and Yosemite National Park. I'll start with the last trip, since it's most fresh in my memory and I've already warmed you up with the passage above.

Sequoia National Park, I have to admit I never heard about it before, but when I checked Google Images, it looked pretty familiar: the bigass trees with the holes in them, where cars can pass through. Which is what we did, of course. For my Dutch readers, if the name Sequoia sounds familiar to you too, it might be because Bassie & Adriaan made a trip to this place too, during their America adventure. And if they've seen it, how can we lag behind? So traveling is what we did, in a car filled with everything we - thought we - needed: tents, sleeping bags, food, wine and more food. I woke up at 5.15 am, felt nauseous while eating my peanut butter sandwich, but made it to our meeting point on time. Ready to go!

Though I've never felt bad about not having a driver's licence - who needs one in Amsterdam anyway? - I now did. The landscapes were beautiful, the roads like a rollercoaster. Up and down, left and right, through the mountains. But I couldn't feel sad too long, since it was a thrill to sit in the backseat as well. We had plenty of music and made several stops, for instance to buy 6 avocados for 1 dollar. Let me say this again: 6 avocados for 1 dollar! As a student in the hella expensive city of San Francisco, this is the closest to heaven one can come. We could already look forward to a delicious lunch.

 

After a short stop in Fresno, where we had to pick up our rental tent, we drove further and further up in the mountains. I think I've spent more time in the car during the past two weekends than I did over the past 10 years. We'd never go on a vacation to a destination further than Germany by car, so I'm not the most experienced, when it comes to sitting still. But I survived and have to admit that the experience of sitting in a car in California is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. As I said, the landscapes were terrific, it went from rocky mountains to sandy moorlands and from sunny and warm to rainy and cold.

 

Because when we arrived in Sequoia, it was damn cold. I'd brought several sweaters to wear during the night, but couldn't help but fearing that it still wouldn't be warm enough. Well, something to worry about later. For we were about to see the biggest trees of the world: the sequoia trees, also known as the redwoods! Even though it was raining pretty hard, we got out of the car and went up to a huge rock that had several stairs surrounding it. After about 15 minutes, we arrived to the top and that was the prettiest sight I've ever seen. The rain had stopped by then, but the fog just came in, which gave a very mystical view of the area. I'd love to be able to describe it all, but I think the pictures will speak for themselves.

 

 

 

The rest of our day was filled with walking around and making the most random pictures ever. I climbed on top of the car, pretended to be Gandalf and we made a lovely Dutch artwork while hugging a tree. After the dramatical moment I described earlier, we were completely soaked before we got back to our tent and had to warm up with pasta, wine and marshmallows. I can think of worse ways to spend your night in Sequoia! The only thing to take into consideration was the crumbles that we'd leave behind, because everywhere in the park were warning signs of bears. At first, we thought it'd be exaggerated, probably just some precaution. When we woke up the next morning, however, we were pleasantly surprised. A bear took his morning walk behind our tent! Good thing none of us is easily scared, we were rather fascinated and printed this hairy creature in our memories. He was calm and just doing his thing. An experience to cross off my list!

 

Another experience I can cross off, is wildfires. It's something you hear about all the time. When I arrived in California, there were huge wildfires in Sacramento, I believe. I would never have expected to see one, however. Apparently it's been a big problem in the surroundings of Sequoia lately, because Kings Canyon, the area Dana and Veerle wanted to check out, was unavailable for public. So they joined Lavi, Emma and me on our day trip to Yosemite. Another long, long ride and once again, it was raining like hell when we arrived at the park.

 

 

It was Yosemite, though, so we wanted to check out the popular things no matter what. But first we tried to come up with some creative ideas to cover ourselves from the rain, because of course, none of us had brought any rain jackets or such. Lavi bought a poncho, but Dutch as I am, I refused to pay $7 for such a thing, so I put a plastic bag over my head and resembled a non. Before we took off, we had some cheap lunch: bread with hummus, and I treated myself to a mini bottle of red wine, just to warm up. Really.

 

Dana had discovered a nice hike that would take us all the way to the waterfalls, and we'd be able to see the famous Half Dome too. We bumped into two guys who just got back from the hike and they told us it was 1,5 to 2,5 hours of climbing upwards and 1 hour to walk down. The road was zig-zaggy and most of the time we had to watch precisely where we walked, because it existed of rocks only. We decided to do the trip anyway, totally unprepared whatsoever. We had only one small bottle of water, no food and Emma was wearing her pyjama pants. On top of that, Veerle had troubles with her knee, because of an accident a while ago, so we were not the typical hiking team. We felt strong and persistent however, so we decided to just go for it.

 

 

 

And a trip it was. It took us about 3 hours to go up, lots of sweat and several pauses. It kept on raining and after half an hour, we were already wondering why we did it. But when you start something like this, there's no way to stop and besides, everyone we met along the way said it was ''only half an hour'' to go. So further and higher we walked. The view was magnificent, fortunately. It was almost apocalyptic, to stand there on top of the mountain, totally isolated, with no other tourists and fog everywhere.

 

It was already 6 pm, though, and it was starting to get dark. Thank the lord for our iPhones, because we hadn't brought any torches either. Our mobile flashing lights had to lead us down. And down was almost more difficult than up, since the rocks were very slippery and you had to pay a lot of attention when you stepped on them. Strangely enough, I didn't fall. The others did, though, and we were happy as little kids when we finally made it back to the car. At 8.30 pm.

That night, I couldn't care less about the rain anymore. Our legs were exhausted, our eyes were tired and our minds couldn't think clearly. After the 5 hours of driving back to Sequoia, where our tents were located, I fell straight to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, I was goddamn cold and I had no idea how on earth to pack the tent, since it was still storming outside. How we managed to do it, no one knows, but around 9 am we were back in the car, looking tired but satisfied and got back to San Francisco. I'd never been so happy to rest my head on a pillow and sleep with warm feet.

If you're still reading this now - nice job! - you may have remembered that we did another roadtrip too. Oh yes, we did, and it was the complete opposite of the Yosequoia one. Don't get me wrong, I had the best time in Sequoia and Yosemite, probably precisely because of all the drama and all the laughter about it. Big Sur was a whole lot more relaxed. For one thing, the weather was insanely beautiful. It was 28 degrees and very sunny.

The route to Big Sur was totally different from the route to Sequoia and Yosemite too. Why? Because we were driving on the fucking Highway 1! Even though I don't have a lot of routes to compare it with, I can easily say that this would be one of the most sceneric routes in the States, maybe even the entire world. It goes all along the Pacific Ocean, you pass Santa Cruz and Monterey and you see the clear blue ocean, the rocks and the fog that comes and goes all the time.

 

In Big Sur, we spent a lot of time looking for a camping place, but it turned out everything had been reserved. A little adventure after all! We decided to just park the car at an isolated place, take all of our stuff - which was a lot - with us and make our way through the bushes to find a nice place. Just when we thought we'd have to settle for a lousy place, Veerle found the perfect camping spot. It was under a tree, with a view of the ocean and it reminded me of The Lion King. Yes, try imagining a better one. The only problem was all of the annoying insects that kept on bothering me. I seriously think they have a thing for me, and after the disaster in Berlin last year, I was slightly scared. Of course, it was fine in the end, except from about 20 mosquito bites on my legs the next morning. But hey, we slept in the open air. Something to say about that as well!

 

We spent most of our time in Big Sur on the beach, enjoying the heat and the chilly Pacific water. The other girls had been invited to a party in an art gallery by a guy they met at the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival the week before. He owned a parrot, which was the perfect accessory for some more photos. The art gallery party was quite the experience. Drinks and food were for free, so for me, it was already a success. The audience had an average age of around 60/70 and were extremely rich. It was such a different environment, but I have to admit I was intrigued by all of the botox going on there. A good example of having too much money and not knowing what to do with it anymore.

 

Nevertheless, I had a great time there, merely because the view was breathtaking. The music varied from old to modern. Apparently, one of the Beach Boys was performing too, but I haven't gotten the chance to spot him. On our way back to San Francisco, we stopped at the famous bridge, which I just had to photograph, since it perfectly demonstrates the beauty of Big Sur. So what's my special relationship with this area, which most of you probably have never heard of? It's one of the places Jack Kerouac, my favourite writer, often visited. He even wrote a novel about it, which is called... Big Sur. It's a very short novel and far less interesting than On the Road, Dharma Bums or Desolation Row, but it's very Kerouac and thus, I just had to see it.

So far, our weekend trips outside of San Francisco. I love nature, I feel way more calm after such a weekend and all my stress disappears with the sun. In my heart, however, I'm definitely a city girl. The idea that a city, like San Francisco, Amsterdam or New York for instance, lives during the day and during the night inspires me. I thrive off the fact that there's always something to do. So yes, I was happy to be back in SF too. Even though, the average life here is mostly filled with university, homework and stuff like grocery shopping. It's not that we do fun things all day, every day.

But, overall, there's lots of things to see and still so much to explore. Tonight I'm going to a reading by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, the beatnik writer and founder of City Lights Bookstore. He'll be celebrating his travel journals (1960 - 2010). If I have time, I might explore Chinatown a bit more too. So I guess I wasn't totally honest when saying I don't do fun things all the time. It's almost hard not to do something fun in San Francisco on a daily basis. I fall more and more in love with this city every minute. And I have a feeling that the best is yet to come.