It improved enormously once I headed north in the hired car (what fun!) to spend the weekend with Chris on the other side of the bridge. His ‘Grizzly Adams’ tendencies definitely took a turn for the worse when he started living in a shack in the middle of nowheresville, Marin. Powered only by kerosene in a 5 gallon tank, his living is frugal to say the least. A middle of the night trip to the bathroom involves risking life and limb, navigating in the pitch black to a restroom that has no running water (kerosene off) and a poisonous spider trapped in a glass on the side of the basin. Who knows what lurks in the space in the roof (it still ‘belongs to the cabin’ apparently)? So we picnicked, ate, went to a band, ate, sat on the beach, ate and ate and drank some more.
Wednesday saw the arrival of the uncle and aunty from the antipodes; or more correctly from Nova Scotia and week 6 of their round the world ‘visit-relie fest’. Even the imminent arrival of my Uncle Jim saw my propensity for near disaster spring like a phoenix from the flames. Oh my! How apt! You see, knowing that I was picking them up later in the day, I pottered around the house doing house-pottering type stuff: cleaning my room, changing sheets, preparing for guests, leaving my ablutions and dressing until closer to departure time. So mid afternoon I took a well earned break from the chores as all was spruce and perfect for their arrival. I plonk myself on the steps outside, call Arron in Los Angeles, we are chatting away and I lit a cigarette (yes, I know I shouldn’t). Unfortunately I also dropped the match and my turquoise blue, snuggly monkey pyjamas set on fire. I watched, as in slow motion the flames, at first confined to the merest edge of my pyjama bottoms, licked up my legs to my groin and I tried to whip off my pants with my feet whilst continuing the conversation with Arron. She thought it very ‘English’ of me as I asked her, “Can you excuse me for just a moment. My trousers are on fire and I need to just put them out.”So Arron, I am sorry that we had to finish our conversation with you knowing I was sitting in a thong on the steps. I know it’s not a pretty thought.
Poor Jim was in a bad way with three bulging discs but he was stoic about the whole thing (you decide: true or false?!). We had a car so still managed to get around and do loads of really great stuff, he just wasn’t able to walk very far and especially not up any hills. San Francisco? Hills? Tricky. Having the car has completely opened my eyes to just how beautiful Northern California is and I have decided I unreservedly LOVE it. The scenery in Marin, the coast lines and redwoods, and the hills and vineyards over into Napa and Sonoma were breathtaking. In many ways it did remind us all of South Australia and the wine country of the Barossa. It was a thoroughly enjoyable week with Jim and Rose as I also got to really discover my city. It was the first time I have really explored Chinatown and rummaged through antique shops, farmers’ markets. My Aunty Rose is a fantastic shopper and we had a ball in Chinatown. There were so many things to buy. But you can’t have everything. Where would you put it?
We even did the compulsory tourist trip to Alcatraz which was actually rather eerie, cells no more than 8’ by 5’, wind whistling round The Rock. Alcatraz was the only thing Jim had specifically requested to do during his trip and his disappointment was palpable when we realised that once off the ferry there was a viciously steep climb equivalent to 13 flights of stairs to reach the prison building. Of course, it was a maximum security jail for the worst of the very worse. They weren’t going to make it a gently meandering, undulating stroll off the island, were they? Fortunately, ‘higher power of some kind’ bless America, there was a disabled bus to take him all the way to the top which we had to walk beside as they told us about the daring (or frankly stupid) escape attempts. As a long-term sports lover, this perhaps wasn’t quite the holiday snap he had in mind.
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