I very much have enjoyed San Francisco, though for entirely different reasons. San Francisco was an awesome place to visit, with a lot of modern downtown stuff, corporate feeling areas, touristy stuff and still independent mom & pop places. Portland, on the other hand, is what Brooklyn wishes it could be if there weren't Manhattan corporate influences coming in. There's not a lot of touristy stuff, but it seems like a fantastic place to be.
Day 13: Walkin' around San Francisco
For my first day in San Francisco, I figured it'd probably be a good idea to just get lost walking around and eventually find my way to Fisherman's Wharf, about a mile and a half away from my hostel. I was only going to have two full days in San Francisco since the hostel there was so goddamned expensive, so I figured I'd try to see as much as I could in one day.
I inadvertently made a genius move in trying to find a Walgreen's (on every corner there besides the one by my hostel) as this gave me a straight shot right toward the wharf and a bunch of mom and pop stores and restaurants on the way for over a mile. You'd think that San Francisco, since it's been taken over by the nerds from Google and Apple and Twitter and all those companies, would be super corporate and like Manhattan with chain restaurants everywhere, but there really wasn't anything like that close to the hostel or on the way down there, until you actually got to the super touristy wharf. It was just all independent places, the kind that are getting harder to find in NYC. But anyway, after going through all them, I got down to the wharf and went by the beach, saw the Golden Gate Bridge masked by fog and then headed over toward the wharf and Pier 39.
It was a lot like the jersey shore boardwalk except without the games. Just shops on shops on shops that I'd never buy anything from. Though I did find one selling Ohio State stuff for some reason. I had In N Out again because I have a problem and then went back to exploring. My goal was to find a "The City" Warriors sweatshirt, since I figured San Francisco would have Warriors stuff pouring out of it since they won the title a month and a half ago, but none had anything besides cruddy looking bootleg ones. A Walgreen's had it but not in my size.
After taking a break back at the hostel, I went out and explored Market St and the giant Westfield mall. Somehow this one seemed bigger than Garden State Plaza and had a million random stores and a very California food court. I had Korean Barbecue and it hurt my teeth. I also found a 49ers store and a Giants store but no Warriors store. Just an Adidas store, but they only had shirtseys and not the shirt I was looking for.
That night, the hostel had a game night. They didn't say what kind of game or anything like that. It just said come play games and get a free beer. Don't have to tell me twice, so I expected Chutes & Ladders or Sorry or something, but the Canadian girl came down and broke out the deck of cards and we played Kings Cup. I think it's the official game of hostels or Australia or both at this point. So that was fun. I made friends with a bunch of Australians again, New Zealanders, French people and, randomly, a German girl who'd studied abroad at Ohio State and noticed by block O shirt. I also somehow got in an hour long conversation with a British guy about the EPL and didn't sound like a complete moron, I think.
Day 14: Walking 80 degrees up hill
The next day the hostel had a free San Francisco walking tour at 10am. I thought it'd be an hour and maybe that was it. Nope. It turned out that it was 4 hours long and involved walking up to Coit Tower, which is up a hill that literally goes up at like 80 degrees. It's just a normal street/death trap. We went through the parrots and all that stuff, at least those of us who'd survived the climb, and then he took us down to the wharf again and dumped us a mile and a half from home. At least we got to walk past Francis Ford Coppola's winery or whatever it is and the place where Jack Kerouac and the other beatniks started that whole thing. That comes back later.
I was dead by this point and took the opportunity to go eat at a Jack In the Box for the first time since 2011 at CES in Vegas. That place is the definition of mediocrity. I got the spicy chicken and curly fries, but they gave me regular fries. I was too dead from walking to care enough to change it. Then it was time to turn around and walk the mile and a half back. Google Maps told me to take a longer route, which I thought was dumb and headed straight down the street. Then the streets started going up 70 degrees again. I would've cried and jumped into the bay before I did that again after walking for over four hours, so I ended up having to take the long way around and getting lost in more random parts of San Francisco. I eventually found the downhill areas that go down at about 70 degrees too. I don't know how old or disabled people live there without tumbling down and killing themselves every other day.
Eventually I made it back and took a nap.
Then it was free wine & cheese night in the hostel and they were giving out free Andre, and who was I to say no (Pete life). I made friends with a bunch of randos from Germany in the party room of the hostel (yes that's what it's actually called) that thought it was hilarious that I wasn't wearing shoes. I just had to walk two steps to the room to get there, why dress up?
There was also one girl who really wanted to go to some crazy party bar we heard about on our walking tour, so we set out to go there. Guess who didn't come? Her because she found some Australian bros to get hit on by and literally never left (this comes back later too).
So four of us set out, first to go to the Jack Kerouac bar and then to the crazy weird party bar where 60 year olds are supposed to be going crazy and dancing with 20 year olds. Somehow though, we ran into the staff of the hostel going right next door so we took a pit stop and hung out with them for a little. They didn't seem to want to talk to us for more than 3 minutes so we headed out again via taxi to the Kerouac bar.
It wasn't my idea to go there, even though I'm an English nerd and love this stuff, it was a Canadian guy's so we were just following his lead. So after we go in, he asks me who Jack Kerouac was. My brain almost fell out of my ears. Why were we even there if not to drink where he drank and what he drank and eat what he ate. I was the only one of the four of us who'd read On the Road (it's trash).
I then ordered a Jack Kerouac cocktail. Once I got it, I asked the bartender if that's what he drank. She said no. Is this whole city on acid?
So after that, we went to the crazy party bar and there were only about 10 people listening to a bad cover band. It smelled like dog piss that nobody cleaned with the pet stuff. We ended up just sitting there before I started a war of touch tunes with a German girl who didn't speak a word of English. She wanted to play Eric Clapton. I wanted N Sync. Clash of the Titans.
Eventually I almost got left there because I was too into this war, and literally had to run after the taxi. Then once we got back to the hostel, it sounded like people were still up downstairs even though it was 2am. So I went down there and the girl and her friend who wanted to go to that cruddy bar were still getting macked on by Australians. Can't close the deal in 4 hours guys? Come on jeez.
So the Canadian guy and I joined in on that conversation and he started playing pool while I talked to a couple different people. The one Australian was trying to give his name to a British girl so they could be Facebook friends. I overheard and said cool, now that I know you're name I can send you random dirty pictures from the Internet. He got really mad and said he'd beat me up before check out if he got one. So I suggested another brand of dirty picture and he got even madder. Then I tried to compromise with pictures of butts and he yelled at me to go to bed. The entire room stopped and looked while I was laughing my ass off with a big, man bun having Australian wanting to beat the hell out of me.
So that was fun.
Day 15: Hello, Oregon
So he never did beat me up the next day. I checked out at 10 but with my flight not till 4, I had time to kill. So I watched Chinatown in the hostel till 11 when I actually had to physically leave. Then I decided I'd explore a new part of the city before I left and wanted it to end at the Sports Authority so I could finally get that goddamned The City sweatshirt. Well, after going through way poorer areas, I found the place and they had two Warriors shirts. So I came out of that empty handed and ate at Burger King, where I found out they ruined the Tender Crisp sandwich by making it about 1/3 as big. Just disappointments all around.
Then I just hopped on the BART to SFO and killed time in the airport watching old music videos from 2001. Fun Times. The flight was less than an hour, but the MAX light rail ride to the hostel in Portland was hell. It looped all around Portland, taking about 45 minutes to go 10 miles and then breaking down literally one stop from mine. I didn't want to get lost and my phone was dead and I had bags so I stayed and waited 20 minutes for another one. Then I finally got there and the hostel had no air conditioning. It was 90 degrees and the room just had a box fan.
I ate at McDonald's just to get some AC for fifteen minutes.
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