Arrival in San Francisco
We have arrived!
I am sure it must have been easier on our bodies, flying twelve hours on a plane, countless movies to watch on our individual screens – everyone chose a different title – fed and watered at very regular intervals. Imagine a tiny insect flying that great distance – I suspect much, much longer. Amazing!
Air New Zealand’s service was fantastic. Beautiful food (supper and breakfast), and very tolerant, patient crew. Great NZ hospitality. We were delighted to hear that the All Blacks had won 19:0, and at last that five medals had been scored at the Games.
We all had great difficulty filling in the forms needed when you arrive… LOL. Mary was asleep when they were handed out, and with great difficulty I retrieved glasses from my bag in the overhead locker and filled out the green one and the white one. The crew had explained that it was very important that you fill them out correctly, no mistakes, no crossings out, but they would be around with more forms if you stuffed up. I filled mine out in about two seconds flat, and smiled smugly at sleeping Mary. She, of course, stuffed up. Not once, but twice. I (very tolerantly) suggested she follow my example. She pointed out my mistakes. I had the wrong words on the wrong lines. Thank you Mary.
I pressed the bell and got another form. I filled it out again, and noticed another mistake. I pressed the bell and got another form. And again, I stuffed up. The next time the steward gave me forms, he said I was doing such a great job, that he would give me TWO green cards.
At the arrivals counter, the smiling official pointed out that we’d all left areas blank. Even Kathryn Rowe, with her advanced education, had not got it right! She said that her pupils would laugh at her. But at least we had not made mistakes or crossings out (by this time), just caused a few more trees to be chopped down.
We had left on NZ Saturday evening and arrived Saturday lunchtime. No problems with jet lag yet… Found our shuttle and had a guided tour of the SF International Airport, courtesy of the driver, who wanted to get a full complement of passengers before he made the ½ hour trip into the city, understandably. He had a long argument with whoever authorised him to pick up passengers – there were various shuttles touting for rides – and an even longer altercation with one of the passengers when she disembarked and couldn’t pay the fare. But finally we got to our hotel.
The Renoir Hotel’s an old brick building right on the edge of the ‘urban renewal’ zone, so when you walk a couple of blocks through litter and one or two ‘bodies’ or homeless people you’re into the vibrant area of the city, tourists squeezing into trams or trolley buses to get down to Fishermen’s Wharf. They’ve heard that’s the place to go!
We walked and gawked, looking for a shop so my laptop could talk to the world. No success, so we walked even further and found a Taco Belle, realising we hadn’t had any lunch and that was causing the rumblings in our tums. No seats anywhere to be seen, but we found a huge garden sculpture and perched ourselves on that, sampling tacos and pesquadillos and other Mexican fare, yum!
I am a notorious jay-walker, and finds quick ways across the road between the cars, but you can’t do that here… well you can if you remember to look the other way, and the drivers do like to BEEEP at you. Mary will get used to that… but says she won’t pay fines or undertake prison rescues.
Finally we joined the tourists on a tram. “Watch out for pickpockets”, the man called to all as we climbed aboard.
Mary got two tickets, $1 each, and we could get back on and off any time between 9pm that day. Tourists squeezed into every nook and cranny, hanging onto straps as the tram jerked its way down Market Street. Stop-start-stop-start, the vehicle had only two speeds, GO or WHOA, so we were constantly being jerked one way or the other. We got a seat, and slid from side to side, playing bumper boats with our neighbour’s bums. Next time on I said to Mary that we’d sit facing the front, but now we were either thrown into the back of our seats like the crash-dummies on the TV commercial, or sliding forward off them.
I was out like a light, constant beeps and bumps, scares and sirens didn’t prevent me from getting a great night’s sleep.