Mike woke at 4am on the 4th (an auspicious day in the Emmerson household - we moved from NZ to Australia that date in 1980), and prepared to drive Anja to her early morning flight at Stansted (just north of London). To both their horror, der Bus did not start. There was no alternative but to bundle Anja into a taxi for the expensive trip to Stansted. Anja later told us she made it with minutes to spare. I was confused when Mike rummaged around at 5:30am, not expecting him back for another hour or so from dropping Anja off. He couldn't go back to sleep, so he kept himself busy. I had no such problem, and fell asleep again.
Olly met us at Hammersmith tube, and we took the Piccadilly line out to Heathrow. We arrived about 1:50 before our departure time, and the queue was huge. Mike & Olly both posted items while we waited in the queue. Olly had to courier Charlotte's house keys back, as he had both sets. Oops.
We were nearly at the end of the queue an hour later (2 people to go) when a BAA official called us out of the queue especially. Selected for special treatment, we were a little concerned. We waited in another queue about three from the front. We appear to have been moved backwards. The enthusiastic but slightly stressed looking young man 'processed' our boarding passes, which, when we finally got to the counter, appeared to have done nothing to speed up the process. But, perhaps I was overlooking something.
We were on the plane within the hour, as per normal. The flight was Ok as we had personal screens. I can't stand flights without them now. I watched several movies ('Erin Brokonovich', some movie about a fire-fighter and time travel which was soppy but nice and 'Gone in 60 seconds' ) and the ten hours passed well enough. Arrival in San Fran was hampered by the two hour queue to get a stamp from customs. Four 747s got in at once, and the airport could not cope. We fretted about putting England on our visa waiver forms instead of UK as per the video (US immigration is notorious for being picky and making you fill out forms with no mistakes at all). But the stamp was forthcoming.
Still, we caught up with Dong, and got a taxi without any worries. Soon we were checking in to the palatial (not!) Dakota Hotel. This was clean and cheap, and very well situated to walk to the best bits of downtown San Fran. Our room had an awesome fire escape, just like the movies. We all went out to find something to eat, and Mike & I had the best Caesar Salad.
Back to the Dakota to crash in a huge heap around 9pm. Mike had been up for 25 hours straight at this stage.
We woke slowly the next morning and hunted down a breakfast place. Jasmine's was to be our breakfast haunt for the next few days. It was a few blocks away from the Dakota. I had pancakes with toast, and spread my travel tube of vegemite with great delight over the toast. Dong tried some and quite liked it. I think the others had omelettes.
Then we were off and running to Bechtel head office. Catching a taxi proved to be difficult in San Fran (maybe some native knack we don't know about), and it took a few minutes more than we were expecting. But we got there (a bit late though). Turns out the meeting was delayed as the main speaker thought it was the next day. So we pottered around Bechtel meeting people, reading up on the technology in question and eating excellent lunches till our scheduled Alcatraz tour.
3:15pm Dong and I made our way to Pier41 to pick up our tickets. The pre-paid ticket queue was short, but very slow. Not sure why as when we got to the window we got our tickets quickly. Soon after we joined the next queue, the others arrived. And we got on the ferry for the 1.5 mile trip out to the island.
The highlight is the cellhouse itself (although I fancied the cliff walk where you get to see quite a few birds in a protected area, but we didn't have time for that) and you get a headphone set with a very good tour on tape. So, we walked up the steep path and joined the queue for headphones. The cells were interesting, as some had been renovated not long before it shut as a prison in the 60s, and others were older. The solitary confinement cells were pretty awful, as they were pitch black. As time went on, the prisoners had more rights granted (library and piped music and baseball games by the end), and these were removed for punishment.
Angela at Alcatraz |
One of the most interesting parts was a description of Christmas time by a child of a warden (many families lived there also). They used to sing carols to the prisoners from beyond the walls, and wish them a merry Christmas. And they would hear the replies from the men. And, there was a particular wing that was sought after as a cell. It faced the city, and although they couldn't see it, on a night when the wind blew softly from the city, the prisoners could hear voices partying on the marina. Others mentioned how you could see the Golden Gate from the mess hall, and be reminded of all they had given up.
You could look into the service area where the only successful escapees fled. They also had dummies in the cells showing how the three had fooled the guards. I wonder if any of them made it? Although it is only 1.5 miles, the currents are very strong and the water very cold. Sharks are supposed to be numerous, but the guide pamphlet said they were of a harmless type.
There were discussions on the famous criminals detained at Alcatraz during its history. Capone, the Birdman and others.
I fancied a T-shirt and mug as a souvenir, but the shop shut at 5pm, well before the boat back at 6:30pm. There were many books on the subject too. Some I think Mum would have liked.
We returned and watched the sunset over the Golden Gate. A special moment.
Dinner was next, and we ate in a pub. Most if us enjoyed the Smoke-Free law in California, that meant we could eat in a pub with no smokers able to light up. Draconian to some, enjoyable to others. New Zealand is trying to go down the same path, but it is a few years away yet. California is trying to outlaw smoking in buildings with combined dwellings. So, if you live in a building with other flats, you can't smoke in your own flat. You can only smoke in your house if it is free standing. So the Brady Bunch would be OK, but Friends would get put in jail.
While we were there, the table next to us did a runner. A woman with two children ate dinner, and then fled. We didn't see the actual escape, but the waitress was there pretty soon afterwards, and ran out the door followed by the manager. We couldn't believe this woman is teaching her children such things. I only hope she never made it obvious to the kids. I looked at them while they were eating, and the mother was vigorously attacking her T-bone steak with both hands (the reason it caught my eye), so I also hope she only did it because they were starving and couldn't afford it. Although it doesn't justify it, and the waitress will probably be docked for it (normal practice), I prefer to think that's why she did it. Funny thing is, Mike and I saw this happen once on the Gold Coast in Queensland. Also at a steak house. That red meat will drive humans mad!
Unfortunately Mike had the beginnings of a migraine at this point. So, he tracked down some Panadol, and we left the others to go back to the Dakota. Next morning, Mike's head was Ok due to the copious amount of sleep we both got. We ate at Jasmine's again. Mike & I ordered first, then Dong and Olly arrived and put their order in too. We had to be at Bechtel by 9am, so we fled the cafe at 8:45 hoping to flag down a taxi. But, we had some trouble again. We must have walked halfway to the office before we got a cab.
The meeting was on a new security protocol for web protection. We had the sales spiel from someone, and after about two hours the meeting petered out because they couldn't get a server to run the software successfully. Mike worked on his application using PC Anywhere to the London office, and I read about the new product on its website. Various bits and pieces kept us occupied until around 7pm. We went out for a drink at the local bar to chat with some people from Bechtel. I suspect much is accomplished in these places, as meetings seem to have little direction, so the only other alternative is the local bar.
Dong and I were impatient to try out the cable cars and other local attractions. But by the time I dragged Mike away, Dong had disappeared. So, Mike & I rode our first cable car up to the street above the Dakota. We had a dag of a driver, who clanged his bell with vigour, and a tune. We sat on the outside, and eventually had a couple of people standing in front of us just like the movies! When we got off at the top, dinner wasn't really an option. Anyway, Jasmine's just before we left to pick up the rental car meant we would be able to fill up in eight hours.
We got up early, as we were keen to be away before 8:30am. We collected Dong on the way, as Olly was meeting Lloyd for another meeting, then hiring a car. So, we three ate at Jasmine's. Then, we got into the queue at Alamo. Mike collected a Chrysler Sering convertible and we left. We took a few wrong turns every now and then before settling down on the freeway south. We headed towards San Jose, where Silicon Valley is located, but peeled off onto Highway 1 down the coast. There was a Redwood forest along the way I wanted to see, but when we got there, it was only reachable on foot as the road was closed. And it was a few kilometres inland. So, we made do with an excursion inland a little further down the road, and checked out the trees along the side of the road. They were impressive, but I still need to see a wilderness stretching away filled with them to be happy. I have visions of Return of the Jedi where it was filmed in redwood forests here somewhere. Maybe next time.
We fell into Santa Cruz after about 1.5 hours driving from San Fran. We had no idea where our hotel was, so we parked on the main street hoping to sort things out. As we did so, Brent ran to the car parked behind us. He had just got a ticket. Then we realised how little Santa Cruz must be, if we parked in the park just in front of his car. He was trying to sort out clothes for the wedding party. We found out the hen night and stag nights were planned for that evening, starting at 2pm on the beach outside our hotel. We got directions from him on how to find the hotel, and we were off again.
We found the hotel, right next to a construction zone. Very pleasant. And the manager was a complete clown. I couldn't believe how he wouldn't listen to Mike's reasoning, as we were a day late in arriving compared to our original booking. However, we had rang the required 24 hrs before to cancel, and to say we wanted more nights to stay. But, he wouldn't listen to our explanation, and he had our booking wrong anyway. He seemed to be under the impression he could have sold our room last night for $200. But, as he had had ample warning, why hadn't he? Could it have something to do with the construction site outside? So, we paid for the night we didn't have, and only booked one more night for me and Mike. So, total he was getting - 2 nights. Santa Cruz is overrun with hotels according to our Lonely Planet, so I didn't think there would be a problem getting somewhere else, without steamrollers out the front.
We found our room, and thought we'd wait for Olly & Lloyd to arrive before finding accommodation for the rest of the stay. Next, the manager rang our room. Seems he had found the correct booking for another three nights, and would we want them. No, we said, as he had just told us we only had one more night booked. But Mike went to talk to him again. This time he listened. It seemed when he was ready to listen he realised our three nights, plus Dong & Olly's 3 nights, plus Lloyds 3 nights meant it made sense for him to keep our business. Getting 9 nights instead of 2. Clown! But, Mike said the good cop/bad cop routine worked really well. We even got the kitchen opened up for us (normally extra - whoopee! - we never used it).
Santa Cruz is where the film 'The Lost Boys' was filmed. It looked pretty similar. There is an awesome boardwalk along the beach, where Jason Patric's character met Star the first time. Mike & I were keen to try the rollercoaster, but we couldn't figure out opening hours. When we were ready, it was shut. When we were busy, it was open. The bridge the vampires all drop off is just beyond the boardwalk. It is only about 3 m high, unlike the huge drop depicted in the movie. Mike walked along it.
So, we wandered down to the beach. It was lovely and warm. Mike found me some sunscreen, but I ended up with a nose like Rudolph anyway. Olly & Lloyd arrived, dressed for the beach. Later, we adjourned to a bar for a few drinks before getting ready for the hen party/stag do. Some Malibu fruit girls came by with a guy inside a plastic Malibu bottle. We won some T-shirts, and drink bottles by answering silly questions. But, we use the drink bottle every day at squash, so we have a little reminder of Santa Cruz sunshine in the colder wintery weather. When are we going back??
In the evening, I waited outside the hotel for some cars to pick me up for the hen party. Mike wandered off with the boys for the start of the stag do. All the girls went to Meagan's friend's house, and we ate nibblies while Meagan unwrapped her presents. A nice touch (American tradition?) was each ribbon around a gift was combined into a bouquet, and that is what is thrown at the reception. There was also a tradition of the number of ribbons broken during the unwrapping equating to the number of children. Meagan managed to break two (I think it was carefully planned).
After the cake (yummo!), we all piled into cars and went to the Mexican bar where the stag do started. Funnily enough, the fruity Malibu girls arrived. By this stage, the guy in the bottle had figured out how to negotiate low doorways. I watched him reach up and grab the top of his bottle, and pull it down into the neck. He had been somewhat hindered at the beachside bar earlier on in the evening. No longer! Meagan had to perform dares that had been written out by her friends and family at home. It was very entertaining.
I left with Brent's Grandma, and another woman all staying at the same hotel as us. Mike turned up at some stage during the wee hours (not too late).
Next morning, the fog was blanketing the bay. We found a good breakfast place along the beach road, where I had a good Eggs Benedict. Eventually Mike felt human enough to begin our travel plans. My Mum has always talked about the coast road in northern California - especially travelling down the Big Sur. This stretch of road was just south of Santa Cruz, and high on my list of things to do while I was here. Mike and I did some quick scouting for wedding gifts, just to check what was available. This meant we checked out the next town, called Capitola. It was a version of Santa Cruz for the retired. Very quiet, with gorgeous handcraft shops. I had a ball wandering around pretending to look for wedding gifts. Funnily enough, I bought presents for myself. How on earth did that happen? There was a huge flock of seabirds wheeling around in the bay. There must have been a big school of fish attracting them.
Continuing the trip, we headed south past Monterey and Carmel-by-the-Sea (yes, where Clint was mayor). Unfortunately we didn't have time to look at all these places. The object of the day being the drive. The coast road was fantastic, and although we had a convertible, I found myself wishing for a motorcycle. The road was built for it - or, as Mike pointed out, the 'Pacific Coast' (a huge road bike) was made for this road!
Mike at Big Sur |
After Bixby Bridge, we came to the Big Sur National park, where we had a quick look at some redwoods. Then, we turned around and drove back. It was dark by the time we got back into Santa Cruz.
Saturday was the big day. We had breakfast at some girl's house the guys met the night before. When we got there, there was an Aussie boy there. He had been travelling for about three months and mentioned he was keen for some vegemite. Then the American girls said they would like to try some. So, I suggested they could. I pulled the vegemite out of my bag, trying to look like everyone travels with tubes of vegemite. We cooked up some toast, and the vegemite did the rounds. It was a hit with some, and a miss with others, as vegemite is liable to do. The verdict - salty! I was happy to have vegemite on toast for breakfast. The Aussie guy was a bit unsure of how it would compare, as my vegemite was made in Auckland. But, he scoffed his bit down.
We left there, and went for brunch. Why, after such an awesome breakfast? Well, I only got a piece of toast and a bowl of fruit salad, and I was still hungry - so imagine Mike's stomach! We ate at the good breakfast place on the beach road.
This meant a late start to wedding gift shopping, but Olly, Mike & I tackled it. We wandered into shops all up Santa Cruz's main street. And it was very good shopping. The shops had a lot of specialty goods. We got Meagan & Brent a wooden salad bowl. Walking back we discovered the school bus scheduled to take us to the wedding was waiting already. Mike & I jumped into the room to get changed, and within ten minutes we were getting on the bus - looking mostly respectable.
It was cool to ride in an American school bus. Such a good idea. Although Lloyd said it brought back unhappy school memories for him! I just thought of the Simpsons! And the bus driver was cool. He was going to come back later on after the reception and take us back again.
The place where the wedding and reception was held was called Highlands Park in the hills surrounding Santa Cruz. An old house was set amongst the trees, where tables and chairs were set out. We all took our seats, and waited for Meagan's entrance. There was bubble mixture for the guests to use, and fans to keep cool (I was glad I had bought a hat in Santa Cruz!). The flower girl arrived throwing petals (or I think she threw a clump out at the end!), then Meagan came out with her dad. She looked lovely. A perfect dress for the summery weather. Brent sang a song he had composed for her. Their vows were good - Meagan had prepared a lovely set about how life was great with Brent and so on, and Brent said Meagan was the coolest girl he knew! Perfect! Watching the video later, I found I had missed the vows!
The reception was good, with an excellent meal prepared by friends and family (I didn't realise that at the time - I thought it was catered). I even had a wee tear in my eye during some of the speeches. We were sitting with an Australian woman that had been in the States for about 15 years. We didn't pick her accent at first, only hearing the American burr. But, when she mentioned it, we could pick the Aussie accent.
I moved inside when the mossies started biting. The music was good. I chatted to two of Brent's great aunties from Canada for a long time. We ate the cake, and I managed to get Dong to video Brent taking the garter off Meagan (I couldn't see past the throng of guys!!), so we watched that. After the bouquet throwing, we cleaned up the house and all piled into the school bus.
The trip back into town was funny, as people had consumed vast amounts of alcohol by this stage (as I could tell from dancing technique at the reception). Meagan was trying to keep them under control, so we did not attract attention from the police. It worked. I hopped off at the hotel, and the bus continued to a few bars.
Sunday was a late rise. There was a picnic organised on the beach just a few minutes up the road. It was the best beach BBQ I've been to. Heaps of food (yummy salsa dip that Brent's great aunties said wasn't as good as theirs - I need their recipe!), with the highlight being barbequed salmon. Cooked perfectly.
It was sad to leave everyone enjoying themselves, but we were heading back to San Fran to avoid the early rise the next day and rush hour traffic commuting into San Fran. We arrived at the Dakota a little before Olly and Dong (they had dropped off Lloyd at his hotel) after losing sight of Olly in his red Mustang convertible (yes, Mike was jealous) on the curves heading out of Santa Cruz. We all squeezed into the Mustang for a trip to see Lombard Street (the world's crookedest street) and the Golden Gate. At around midnight, the Golden Gate was shrouded in the ever-present fog. The sound of foghorns pierced the night as we hurtled across the bridge. We were dripped on by the Golden Gate! Our experience of San Fran must be complete now!
Next day was spent wandering around the city. I wanted to walk around Pacific Heights which was spared the devastating fire in 1906 (following the Big One - an earthquake that destroyed huge portions of the city!). It meant this suburb still had many original buildings.
By the time we had come back to sea level, we were trying to flag down a taxi to meet Dong in Chinatown for Yum Cha. But, as we had found earlier in the week, taxis are elusive. We ended up walking for an hour back to Chinatown. By that time, we had missed Dong, and Mike was rueing not renting a cellphone.
Mike overlooking Golden Gate Bridge |
By this stage we were running a little late. So, we chucked Olly out at the airport with all our bags and drove off looking for the rental car drop off area. It was easy to find, and we got a shuttlebus back to the airport easily. Olly was at the check-in counter with our bags as they couldn't check through our luggage without us being there (very sensible and expected).
But, we checked in fine (although we weren't sitting together), and waited as our flight was slightly delayed. But, soon we were taking off and flying back to London. We tried to sleep, but it was fitful at best (no neck pillow!). We got into Heathrow around lunchtime Tuesday, and Olly went straight to work. I went home to sort my life out. I slept well that night.
When we got back into Britain, we noticed that there was a petrol dispute, and hardly any traffic on the roads. Quite nice for pedestrians. Turns out the lorry drivers were grumpy about the tax hikes on petrol, and took matters into their own hands. We got the AA out to look at der Bus, and he fixed it straight away. Apparently Volkswagens can lose petrol out of the carby through evaporation, which means there is nothing to suck more petrol through. So, we were able to use up our dodgy French petrol left over from Normandy (Mike thinks the French stuff has higher volatiles or something that caused the evaporation - it certainly wasn't unusually hot or anything!).
So, Mike and I have decided that when we retire early (maybe around mid fifties) we will buy a RV (that dreaded scourge of the American highways) and return to drive leisurely around California. It was the sort of place we could both live in very easily. Nice people, lovely scenery (and we didn't even see Yosemite or Joshua Tree - other famous scenic places in California), very nice weather, good roads. So many things we didn't get done even in this wee corner of California.