Well that trip was just too much fun. Far too much fun to tell you all about it, in fact. So I'll just try to summarise what might have been my last holiday for quite a while, via the medium of tired-old-cliché:
THE GOOD: The city is beautiful. Seriously.
There are too many great views of San Francisco and the whole bay area to do it justice in just one photo. So here's another:
But still, you'll have to take my word for it.
THE BAD: On Saturday night we left a gig at a fun club on Russian Hill at about 1:30am, as they were closing. Still eager to carry on with the drinking and merriment, we resolved to find another venue to carry on drinking. The appallingly named mega-club Ruby Skye was suggested as a good option. So we all piled into a taxi which proceeded to deliver us neatly* to the club.
Eeek. It looks like a caricature of every shitty club in Leicester Square, doesn't it?
Anyway, we spoke to one of the doormen to check that they were still open for us to grab a drink. He confirmed that yes, they were open until 4am, but that it would be $20 to get in. Hmmm. A bit steep, but hey we're on holiday, right? $22 later (including $2 coat-check), we were in what must be the loudest dance club ever, waiting at the bar. And then the bombshell...
"Sorry, we've stopped serving alcohol for the night."
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck**. So that was $22 well spent then. Fuck.
THE UGLY: The view from my hotel room window.
Didn't really matter, but still quite grim nonetheless. Otherwise, the hotel wasn't too bad, although it was a bit... let's say... 'avant-garde':
Sadly, the hotel didn't provide that last aspect as one of their standard amenities***.
UPDATE: Finally got round to uploading 221 of the best (!!) of my many stupid photos from the holiday to Flickr.* When I say 'neatly', I really mean 'messily'. You would think that a San Francisco taxi driver would be accustomed to driving down the city's hills, but this guy still managed to ground his car whilst belting down Nob Hill at full pelt. Much to our amusement, and his annoyance.** Yes I know I said that I wouldn't use that word in this blog for at least a month. But it's nearly been a month since I said that, and there really is no alternative term in this case.*** I'm actually quite glad that the hotel didn't provide afternoon sex as a standard amenity. I suspect that if they had, it would have been presented in the form of a hairless bloke called Fernando (or similar), which is not really my type of beverage.
This is the Pacific Ocean:
I'm pretty certain that this is the first time that I've seen it. It's beautiful. It's also surprisingly noisy, with all those big waves crashing on the beach.
I paddled in it a bit:
Of course, I was so busy photographing my own feet that I failed to notice a big wave coming in. So my jeans got wet.
My jeans are not designed to be two-tone - that darker colour is the result of some of the Pacific remaining in my jeans. Still, it was nice to take some of the ocean away with me. In fact, the whole exercise was greatly 'happy-making' (to coin a Sianyese phrase).