Hasta luego!

Yo!

Woops. I mean Europe.

I'm in San Francisco, alive and well. Recovering from the jet lag which has been pretty full on. My journey didn't start off so well. The plane from Melbourne to Sydney was delayed because of fog in Sydney (bloody Sydney - does it ever do anything right?). They finally let us on only to find the plane had a broken motor (Eeeek!). So we sat for four hours on the tarmac while they fixed it. Of course the plane had no food. Apparently they had no time to stock up while they were going nowhere for hours in Sydney fog before coming to pick us up in Melbourne. I sat on the plane thinking the whole time I'd missed my connection to San Fran (I was hours late), but was happy to find it had also been delayed, so I got on. My flights to Sydney and San Fran were both with United Airlines. I don't recommend them. Apart from occasionally flying into tall buildings (maybe that was a good thing - one less of the bodgy old things in the sky), they also clearly haven't been updated for a very long time. Broken chairs, chipped windows and walls, threadbare carpet, broken motors they were unaware of. Doesn't make you feel overly safe. The decrepit hosties are also some of the rudest people I have ever met. And they forgot my veg meal, so I didn't eat for a full 24 hours from the morning I left until sometime after I arrived in San Fran. When I asked them for something they gave me a bread roll, a bowl of lettuce and grated carrot, two prawns and some rolled up meat. Americans. United planes also don't have TVs! I was devastated. I'd heard that was the best thing about international flying, making up for the lack of sleep the food etc... When I saw there was no television on the back of the chair in front of me, I asked the American hosty where the telly was and she thought I was asking her something about a chilli. The first of many miscommunications so far.

I arrived at my hotel some time in the afternoon, a few hours before I left Melbourne which confused me. The hotel I booked over the internet was in the bad part of town. I had been warned about this but I didn't really believe it. It's really bad and to be avoided after five or six. Everyone is homeless or a gangsta. Bez and Katie, Mr Wendel is also everywhere. He is beautiful in his tattered old 1960s suit, very gentlemanly and completely non threatening unlike his younger counterpart who is completely unhinged, carries knives and has wild eyes that look in all directions. But I have been cruising around the area through the day and I'm pretty much left alone now. So many people whose only source of income is collecting bottles from bins or the the footpath. So many people without legs too - I don't know why.

The first food I bought was from a big ole momma in a really scary spot. I wouldn't have stopped there but I was desperate to get off the street - totally freaking out. American food is pretty off a lot of the time and I didn't think I could really stomach it so I asked for a plain sandwich, only cheese and tomato, no butter, nothing else. After reassuring her a hundred times I really did want only cheese and tomato on bread she made me a foot long roll with cheese, lettuce, onions, tomato, jalepinos (!) and a mountain of mayo and mustard. It was actually pretty nice. Not getting what I ask for seems pretty standard having been here a few days. Americans - I think their ears are painted on.

I went for an eight hour hike two days ago and I'm still suffering. The hills (mountains) are enormous and the wind is gale force. Someone told me I should get a 'trolley' (tram) around to get an idea of the scale of the hills. I got a pretty damn fair idea of the hills on foot and I certainly wouldn't do it again. I really don't think I have ever been so sore, I actually feel like I have broken bones and standing up is a real struggle, though I'm ok once I get going. I didn't really see anyone else walking at all, except in the flatter bits. I marvelled at the bike shop I passed somewhere along the way, wondering how on earth it stays in business in a town like this. Maybe they sell bikes to stupid tourists.
I began my mission by walking to the Golden Gate Bridge (it's really close on the map! Add a couple of miles with the hills) where I forgot to take a photo (I have only taken three photos in three days - all of the ridiculous hills - and they are all crap - Paul I can't figure out the bloody camera!), then I walked to the other side of town, the Haight-Ashbury area, famous for it's alternative lifestyle and free lovin' hippies in the late sixties. It's funny that this hippy mecca is called Haight St. Also funny is Polk St which runs through the middle of the gay area. People say San Fran is much like Melbourne. I guess it is in some ways, but without the neighbourhood pubs, and nice cafes and bars all over. There are diners everywhere selling fried eggs and more fried eggs. I walked for six hours before I could find anywhere half decent to get a sandwich and a drink, though having seen a lot more of the city now I think I was just walking down the wrong streets, so intent was I to not cop the biggest hills that I missed all the nice spots. I thought I found a pub at one stage so I staggered in, starving and thirsty but it was actually a dentist. It had a pub-like name and a sculpture of a tooth out the front that looked exactly like a frothy beer in a bit of a strange glass. I was devastated. Maybe it was a mirage.

It has been interesting just to observe America(ns) - not that they really allow you to be a passive observer, but I do it on the sly. I didn't expect it to be so different here. It's pretty segregrated, not much mixing of black/latino/white at all, and all very distinct cultures. Black culture is so full on, in your face. I passed a group of about five black kids this morning (they were probably about 7 years old), calling each other nigger - 'yo nigger wassup'. It was very funny. They seem so old.

Americans generally are pretty weird. Many of them talk to themselves really loudly wherever they may be (and no one seems to think they're crazy when they do), and I've seen heaps of them put on a show as they strut down the street - sing some rap song with some dance moves all the while wearing a really serious face, then they prance on clearly very pleased with their performance. They also comment on everything. You can't do anything and expect to be left alone - from crossing the road to getting money out of the ATM, someone always has something to say about it. I wonder if their brains ever rest. So they all live this crazy life where they yell at each other constantly - as an Australian it really seems like they all have Tourette's. Probably the strangest thing is that they all think this whole situation is completely normal.

I have met a couple of really nice people, some travellers and some locals. I met a guy last night called Austin, from Texas. He's not from Austin, Texas, he's from Houston, Texas. He probably has a brother called Houston. He was lovely, with Nigerian parents so he didn't seem completely American, though he did have that deadly conventional outlook that a lot of them seem to have - you can't really mention divorce or atheism or anything crazy like that. But Austin did understand me which was a bonus. I didn't realise there would be such a language barrier in another English speaking country. But people genuinely don't seem to understand me. I asked the hotel guy if I owed him anything as I left for the youth hostel and he looked at me like I was an alien. To be fair it probably did sound to him something like 'd'I o y'enything?' but he didn't get it even when I said 'do - I - owe - you - anything? - Any - money?' together with hand gestures. It gets pretty annoying. For a while there I totally felt like popping some caps in some dudes asses! There are so many different people in this city from pretty much all over the world, and apparently it prides itself on its multiculturalism and acceptance of difference, that I wonder how they go dealing with people whose first language is not English.

But I'm beginning to really like it here, and even the Americans and their weirdisms are growing on me!

I'm off to Mexico in a couple of days. I'm going to San Cristobal in the south to hopefully stay with a family for a week and do an intensive Spanish course. Can't wait! And it's going to be warm.

I know there's more but I can't remember right now so I'll sign off or I'll never actually do this. Oh and if I actually take some photos I'll get someone to help me put them on here.

Love y'all! xox Linda