ABC – Alcatraz, Bicycles & Cable cars

Day three turned out to be surprisingly physically demanding, hence this post is being written at 06:44 on day four rather than at the end of day three, while David continues to sleep.

The day started off quite leisurely with a 09:30 departure from the hotel and a stroll to 'Lefty O'Douls' on Geary street for a breakfast. We chose 'O'Douls' as with three SFPD harleys parked outside we knew the food must be both fortifying and reasonably priced.

David got stuck into a Belgian waffle piled high with fresh fruit and whipped cream, My plate of pancakes, eggs and bacon although not as large as yesterdays was slightly cheaper, naturally the coffee and coke on offer was endless.

Four SFPD officers sat at the table behind us, finishing coffee and pancakes, we where sat in the rear of the dimly lit restaurant surrounded by base ball and boxing memorabilia, garish neon and large screen TVs playing news or sports channels.

After breakfast the plan was to take the short walk to Union square and get on the cable car at the stop there, thereby avoiding the queues at the turn around point and get off at the top of Lombard Street for a stroll down. We thought we where becoming seasoned cable car travellers by this time.

The stop was an island at the junction of Post and Powell, easily identified (although not specifically signed) as there were a small number of people already waiting. We joined the group and watched as first one then another cable car went past already full, the plan was not working!

The driver of the second car added to his cry of 'stand clear, were full folks' with the instruction to try boarding at 'O'Farrell', the group on hearing this turned and headed down Powell, the group seemed to thin as we approached the cable car turning area and joined the queue, it irked us that as the cars where turned and headed back up Powell they appeared to leave half empty.

As each car travelled to the first block intersection it became clear why they where full at Union square, one block up from the tram turn around point at Market, they met O'Farrell, this is where the wait queue was short and you where guaranteed an entry.

As we boarded the next tram we chalked up another experience point. As we headed up Powell we paid our $5 each for the trip and shortly where made aware that this car did not go to the top of Lombard but actually direct to the Fisherman's Wharf stop in Taylor street, the driver pointed out a cable car following behind indicating this went to Lombard, we suggested getting off and boarding that, he pointed out that as we had a single ticket we would be charged again, experience point #2.

We quickly adapted the plan and stay on the car to travel to fisherman's wharf for more coffee and a rethink.

Alighting at the last stop we stroll past a variety of fish restaurants before turning and heading for Pier 39, where we pause by a cycle rental franchise called Blazing saddles, being a little disappointed that we had not crossed the Golden gate yesterday I loiter too long and am soon embroiled in discussion with lycra cad apostles of the cult of the cycle.

They tell a tale of a gentle ride along purpose built cycle ways past spectacular scenery, across the Golden gate and down into Sausilito where a ferry awaits to transport the traveller back to Pier 39 to return the bikes.

Although it goes against my deeply held beliefs that the cycle is a device simply to interfere with the progress of civilised transport along the highway, the nod to this through the used of dedicated roads weakens my resolve and having been convinced that we will easily be back in time to return to the hotel to collect our tickets to visit Alcatraz that evening we sign up!

We leave a credit card imprint, procure two 'Blazing saddles' bottles of water, the route is described to a small group of us and we are then fitted with helmets and allowed to 'test ride' the bikes. Happily the saddles are not blazing at all but are comfortably padded.

We set off, for brief period the cycle path is the road and I wince inside at the corruption of my beliefs, enacting on other road users the misery that cyclists time and again enact on my own journeys.

Shortly we arrive at Victorian park and here wide promenades and pathways merge to provide a flat surface that dog walkers, joggers, pedestrians the occasional Segway user and cyclists can mutually use. At once I feel vindicated, the pavement (sorry, Sidewalk) is the true place for the cult of the cyclist, cars no longer inhibited slide past (well they would if we weren't in a Park).

As we head past the maritime museum turning into Fort Mason the path starts to climb steeply and I despite the infernal gears eventually dismount, David presses on and by the time I reach him heart pounding, he is sitting taking pictures and pulls from his water bottle.

After a brief rest we continue on, eventually arriving at the foot of the Golden gate, I gaze up at the steep windy road that connects the lower level with the bridge and sigh at my own gullibility, what part of gentle does the next portion of the ride subscribe to?

Once again, I walk David rides, I watch a family struggle up the hill, the father towing a child carrier, the mother a small women attempting to retain her balance on a tandem whose second occupant is a clearly a heavy six or seven year old whose feet appear out of synch with the mechanics of the pedals.

Feeling there is no dishonour in walking my cycle, I pass them as the women gives up her struggle to retain balance and topples against her husbands supportive instructions.

At the top of the hill a photo opportunity which we grasp, a single foreign rider asks for his picture to be taken and then returns the favour, (yes, I know its the same shirt, but get past that and admire the view!)

We head out along over the bridge, David weaving in and out of recalcitrant pedestrians, I ringing my bell and more sedately following, occasionally one of the lycra crowd will whip past arrogantly unannounced, making Davids riding look positively considerate.

As we approach the half way point a sign along side and emergency phone offers crisis counciling, I briefly consider stopping!

The wind on the bridge is very strong and only the centre section really has a anti suicide fence, although allegedly this is insufficient to prevent the truly determined.

Incidentally the traffic on the bridge heading into San Francisco is horrendous and has a tailback which extends well into Marin county. The traffic heading out of Frisco is light.

A small rise just after we leave the bridge rapidly turns into a steep windy descent on the road shoulder (drain) towards Sausilito, the descent is fast and as we round the last bend the pretty town of premium watery front property, its restaurants and shops reveals itself.

We cannot tarry too long as it is already 14:00 and we need to get the ferry back to San Francisco, remember our Alcatraz tickets are at the hotel!

Happily the ferry is waiting at the dock, along with many other cyclists, sadly this ferry will go to Pier 1, so another long ride awaits on the far side. The next ferry is not for an hour, so we board this one and it takes us scenically past our later appointed destination of Alcatraz before arriving at the first pier near the financial district.

The cycle ride has been 8 miles of variegated surface and inclinations and leaves us both feeling physically drained and we still have to return to the hotel and then return to Pier 33 for our Alcatraz visit.

We head back to the cable car, procure a day pass at $13 each as we know we will be using the car at least three more times this saves us an additional $4 each – Now we truly are masters of the cable car.

Back in town we grab a burger and a drink at 'Jack in the Box' before returning to the hotel, I pause briefly at the notices in reception one of which gives the schedule of events for a conference on Marijuana which apparently is being held in the hotel! Arriving in the room we both discover it's a mistake to sit on the bed as there is now a reluctance/inability to get up again.

We do however get up and return via cable car to Fishermans' wharf for 17:10, now we have a limping, aching, walk to Pier 33 from where we will depart to Alacatraz.

On the ferry we are advised by the national park service operators that the Alcatraz tour contains many steep and lengthy walks, a tour train is available for the infirm we are both tempted to apply! We are also informed that whilst our stay is not permanent the return boat will depart at 20:40 or 21:25.

The tour of Alcatraz is fascinating and delivered well, by a combination of Ranger talks and a self worn audio system. The cells are tiny and the atmosphere of the place is retained despite the obvious decay.

The entrance to the tour takes place via the showers, which feature in the Nicholas cage, Sean Connery film 'The Rock', here Navy seals are ambushed by the terrorists as they attempt to storm the facility to recover nerve agents. Having seen the shower room it's a little difficult to picture how the Seals could have comfortable emerged.

Alcatraz in addition to its history is now a national park and various flora an fauna present on the island add to the attraction of the visit. The night time visit in which we take part also provides view s of the night skyline of the city and the Island.

At 20:40 we head back to the mainland and return to our hotel via the cable car weary and drained!

This morning we will collect the rental car and head for Monterey but for now; 08:11 David is still asleep.

Posted in: travel