So long Frisco

Boy time flies when you’re having fun. Five days in San Francisco were swallowed up quicker than I eat ice cream coated in ice magic – and let me tell you – that’s fast. I spent my last day in the Mission, one of the most San Franciscan areas of San Francisco (with the emphasis on the Franciscan missionaries to be precise) - San Francisco’s Spanish heartland. I started out wandering the streets in a random zig zag as I like to do. Nature and the promise of churchly clean toilets lead me back to the original Mission church on Delores Street. Which was a good stop to soak up the neighbourhood’s history, seeing the old photographs of bullfighting in the square and later the hearses lined up outside the church delivering the bodies from the 1906 earthquake. The simple original building has Adobe (meaning sundried bricks made of clay – not portable document format) walls that were 4 feet thick, which withstood the 1906 earthquake. The more elaborate and newer Basilica that was built next door used more modern construction techniques and like many historic buildings in San Fran, didn’t stand up the shaking of 1906. What does this tell you people? Keep it simple, look backwards.

On the advice of Lonely Planet I sought out the famous Clarion Street alley graffiti. Disappointing people. I went to the southern end of the alley and the overwhelming stench of pee made it a really short visit. Plus the Grafiitti in the alleyways of Melbourne is much better – still I gave it a go.

I doubled back to Nob Hill for the last time to say my goodbyes to Cali – she was clearly crying on the inside to see me go. Assembled my 63 small bags and trekked over to Berkeley. So long San Francisco.