After a relaxing night at the Holiday Inn near Heathrow Airport our Virgin Atlantic flight to San Francisco ascended into the cloud cluttered skies thirty eight minutes late. Most of the lost time was retrieved on a flight enlivened by the repeated failure of the entertainment system, the noisy carousing of a handful of English rugger types in the galley area and the malfunctioning of the pier doors on landing!
We received an uncommonly affable welcome from the Federal Inspector on entering the U.S. and baggage reclaim and car hire went equally smoothly. After the fork lift truck, brought in to haul us into our seats in the red Chevy Traverse, was driven away, we set off for the City on the evening commute in hazy sunshine and 59 degrees, arriving at our customary first night stop, the Holiday Inn at Fisherman’s Wharf, in little more than half an hour.
Wireless connection, cappuccinos and baths – in that order – were the priorities of the next hour and a half. Tradititon then took hold with dinner at Calzone’s in Columbus Avenue in North Beach followed by a couple of gin and tonics in Vesuvio’s, the famous bar frequented by the Beats and other counter culture luminaries in the fifties and sixties. Our comfortable king size bed at the hotel was very welcome after a twenty four day.
That’s about as much as I can manage after such a hectic day, Posts will be more comprehensive in future, starting with a report of today’s upcoming trip to South Lake Tahoe – the next big storm is in the offing (will it ever stop snowing this season)?