Day 2: To all the hills I've loved

New Yorkers would like this place.

Its familiar in a way that I haven't found in any other city. Once you acclimate to the particular weirdness of its residence, it's own spin on the "outdoor bathroom" aroma, and the highly specific weather, San Francisco is a wonderful place to explore.

It's for these initial reasons that most California bound vacationers will avoid the city, and truth be told I would too if I didnt have family here. Spring break is a time to get out of the home and into the sunlight, STAT! Maybe rocking a sweatshirt is what most of us are trying to avoid. Just know that you're missing out on the good stuff.

Yes, there were a ton of gnats! Good catch.

By good stuff I mean this hill. With a nice view, of course. The spot has a name, which i forget and didnt write down, further evidence that this whole blog is unsponsored, loosely structured scribble with the sole purpose to prove to my parents I'm alive and my grandparents that I can be in San Francisco and still date a woman.

It was the first of many stops on our second day, and once we snagged another Uber Selfie it was time to hit Fisherman's Wharf, tourist attraction extraordinaire. Like most of our visits during the day, we were efficient in how we saw the wharf. We walked no more than a fifth of it when we stumbled into an antique arcade. I could easily look up the name of this place.

If you look at her right eye this becomes a selfie

Then we stopped at a restaurant. I actually remember the name, but won't bring it up on purpose. If they ain't coughing up the big bucks, I'm not coughing up the endorsement. That's the way I roll. Speaking of roll, I had a crab roll. Afterwards, I was ready to keep going, like a mule. Speaking of mule, I had a Moscow mule. Why do I still need a dayjob?

Ash drinking what the British just call a "Mary"

It was a great lunch. One of those lunches where everyone sets high expectations and then they are actually met. It was the kind of lunch where at four separate times you take your "last bite" of the meal, lean back, rub your belly, belch so loud the couple next to you stops talking, and you say "man this food is very yummy." Its the kind of lunch where you use the last French fry to scoop up the last of the tarter sauce, after which you burp again, and the couple next to you decides they need to take a break for a while. One of those lunches.

After such a feast it was time to work off the calories, so what better time to knock off renting bikes from the old agenda. We rented bikes, rode them for an hour, it was amazing. I'd love to say more but like, they were bikes. If you cant imagine how that is then I'm really not going to get you there. We all know I'm not a good enough writer for that, not like.... Jack frost. I guess. He could really get you in the headspace of bikes, right, but not me. All I got was a few sick pictures of my dank ass rented bicycle.

Suck it, poetry

We get back to home base around, what, three? Two thirty? I'm asking you like you know.

We chilled for a bit before heading to another park, this one more popular and definitely something I should mention now, since it sounds like I'm just making this all up at this point. Either way, name checked or not, this park was absolutely popping. It felt like a festival lawn but with no music or entertainment anywhere except for the groups of young people drinking IPAs. At first glance it felt similar to the 4/20 festival, an overhyped outdoor gathering with too much wind, too much degeneracy, and ironically not enough green (grass) in sight. Once we found our little patch and settled in, though, the whole experience was a delight. The people watching was incredible, there was a dancing robot for Jimmy cricket's sake! Not only that, but since every park is a dog park in San Fran, every thirty seconds was another canine playtime. It was a 2 beer type of vibe, a surprisingly low level of delinquency or bad behavior, and the sheer diversity of folks enjoying the same day really made it a liberal's dream come true.

And nobody here was threateningly attractive. Underrated feature.

We must have been there for three hours before the strawberries ran dry and the beers grew warm. It was a beautiful sun and constant cool breeze, apparently common in this area and something I could definitely get used to. Once the sun begins to set and the fog rolls in, that's when you gotta make moves. And so we did, over to the only place I can remember, Twin Peaks. It was a nice view. I forgot to take a picture.

Anyway, back to that park, heres the robot I was talking about

Looks fun till you hear the song. "My heart will go on" by Celine Dion

After the nice sunset view we walked more, downhill, straight to dinner. Chinese place, not bad at all. Apparently well known, but who cares right? I got sweet and sour pork. I didnt take pictures of itsince my phone had no more storage, mostly on account of the 3-hour video I took of that robot dancing.

Once dinner ended it was home and bedtime.. woohoo! I got through another day!! Honestly my day 3 is starting to get behind schedule so I gotta wrap this puppy up without a single overarching narrative ever getting established, no rising action or character development, and zero nudes. What the hell am I even doing this for.

Anyway, mom and dad, I'm still alive. Dont call me.

Photo dump again!

Day 1: I left out a lot of gross stuff

I won't do too much of an introduction, since the only thing you need to know before reading is that I'm on vacation and I'm gonna document it to the best of my ability. I've done it once, I'll do it again! And that's a threat!

Starting off any road trip comes with some baggage. That's a great one-liner, I could probably call it a day just from that. 

I'm already derailed. 

Unscathed and unbroken. SFO cant take us down.

That's what San Francisco has done to me. Already, after hardly 16 hours in, there's been a jolt of energy and a whirlwind of free expression. One person dressed up like a leprechaun, someone trying to sell hot dogs and buy weed simultaneously, a man with only a tubesock on his genetalia. If I'm being honest, I only missed CSM (Cock sock man, for short) since I was taking notes one all the other crazy shit that Tucker Carlson warned me about.

And that was just coming from the airport!

I arrived at Cousin Jean's 1-bedroom apartment. It's cute, and clean. A gracious host, she gifted us a basket of stolen snacks from her office building. I dont want to give away where she works, so let's just say shes a big designer for Myspace. Her break room hooks it up, and we're set for snacks for the whole week. Thanks, Jean from Myspace!

We arrived later than planned, 1pm opposed to the night prior, so we made quick work of some lunch and ubered over to the highly anticipated 4/20 festival over at hippie park. Let me get it out now, it was pretty terrible. Just imagine, a music festival in San Francisco. Micro climates bless this area with Poseidon-wrath-level winds while still 54 degrees, sunny and humid.

 Then the people, oh man. Not that there were any bad players; I'm sure a few of them were stinky, for instance, but they were drowned out by the constant cloud of weed smoke. It was the quantity that bummed me out. Massive numbers of stoned dorks waddled their way passed security checks, with guards so serious as to check my ID and tell me to "come through." My party and I were remaining optimistic, we ubered here after all, but our confidence drained in steep and staggered steps as we more heavily explored the pop-up pot-stop. Food trucks with lines longer than the biggest doink you've ever seen. Huge crowds for a DJ playing dubstep remixes of Blink-182 songs. It wasn't just us not having a good time, either. I didnt see one person smile, except the "vendors" selling prerolled joints to the anxious masses. Those guys were having a blast making stacks. Everyone else just looked like they were too high to be there, sweet irony. 

People had looks on their faces like their uncles funeral was crashed by a biker gang. This was a sad and chaotic affair, the magnum opus of a newly corporate 4/20 culture. It was just too many damn people, and the only non-entrepreneurs enjoying themselves must have come for the guy spinning skrillex and "All the Small Things"

Luckily, we are our own people and had no obligation to stay. Unluckily, we got stuck in some crazy traffic for like 45 minutes afterwards with a silent uber driver in a silent car. We made the most of it, though, by constantly dunking on the the free weed-festival AKA Coachella on chemotherapy. 

Only smiling cause she has coffee

And you know what? After that we found our stride. We took a bit of a scenic walk, our first of many, and got a taste of why San Fran is so loved. I felt like I was breathing in a new flavor of creative inspiration, which I did a lot of while I huffed and puffed up it's stupid ass hills. 

Most of the conversations were about the weather, a topic usually reserved for awkward small talk but in SF it's a way of life. Weather patterns, pressure systems, it's all fascinating. I mean, I still understand nothing about it other than that I should always wear my jeans. That's all that matters, right? 

After exploring some less-populated hills and trails, we decided to call it an early night. We'd been up for a while and had an active enough travel day, so kicking it at the apartment with some beers and Indian food sounded just fine to me.  

Today's agenda is pretty active too... I won't list it since we're probably going to need ti adapt, and God forbid I spread false info on the internet. I'm looking forward to taking more pictures of our silly little trip, and I hope you all get a kick out of it too. 

Till tomorrow! 

(Small photo dump)