Pineapples, Peninsulas, Precipices and Pizza

On our stroll down to the Rabbie Burns Night, we had stopped into the Hotel Majestic, a majestic hotel a few doors down from ours, with a wonderful old bar. There was a biz-type guy there who turned out to be a lawyer cum lobbyist for Dole Corporation.

Pineapple Head wasted no time telling us that this was the hotel Sean Connery and Nicholas Cage had stayed in while filming The Rock. PH had indeed been in the bar during the filming and had bought the drinks all night ($1200) for Sean Baby, Nick Baby and Company. What a name-dropping asshole.

He was still there 3 hours later when we stopped in for refueling on the way back to the Queen Anne.

Next day was Monterey Peninsula Day. We did the obligatory 17 Mile Drive and saw some sumptuous homes, wild life (see photo above), famous golf courses (I declined to stop at Pebble Beach, fearing I would be swamped for autographs by any PGA types who might have shown up early for the AT&T tournament) and beautiful beaches, complete with surfers.

Then it was on to the town of Monterey and its world class aquarium. Between us, Max and I have been to 6 aquaria in different parts of the world, but the Cannery Row version is the best. We spent 3 hours there, enjoying the many innovative ways they have devised to show and explain the ocean flora and fauna. On leaving, we stopped at a shop and sampled something called ice cream dots, which are freeze-dried pellets of ice cream. Let me tell you, if you ever get the chance to try ice cream dots you should immediately refuse and go directly to Baskin & Robbins, which is what we did.

On our return trip to SFO we eschewed the Road Most Traveled (Hwy 101) and instead took US 1 up the coast where we experienced seacoast vistas comparable to Cape Breton, with kite surfers and breathtaking panoramas of rocky shoreline.

Max the Navigator decides to kick it up a notch and directs us over a minor highway that takes us past rapidly changing topography and eventually into a steep climb over a mountain with the straightest stretch being about 75 yards. This was good training for our trip to Simla, later in the journey. Out of nowhere, we were suddenly in a Redwood Forest, a first for both of us(see above). They soared straight as a pin (but larger) into the sky.

Back at the hotel, we take the advice of our concierge and walk 5 blocks to Village Pizza for some Stella and Pie. Max is in a mischievous mood and makes smart-ass remarks as we sit at the counter watching 3 Mexicans twirl dough discs into the air and listen to a guy next to us on his cell phone talking someone through re-tuning a guitar. We know our concierge is an honest guy, as we see him sitting a few seats away, waving at us.

Back at the hotel we watch a documentary on Oahu's North Coast, our next destination The night before, we had watched something called "Tartan TV", a series of Scottish travel shows, just before we left for the Edinburgh Pub. The TV Gods were looking after our best interests.

A gay, female, Scottish, Buddhist Monk

Or...my love is like a red, red rose....(we'll get to that later)

Another voice to be heard from and this is Max(ine), the female side of the Tucker contingent. Notice that the change in font and color reflects the womanly necessity for visual and tactile embellishment. (Also evidenced by too many paranthetical asides) This will be your clue as to which Tucker is speaking to you today. An interesting experiment in the way in which the sexes view the same scenario. But I digress.

San Francisco is a box of chocolate cremes....you don't know what you are going to find until you squeeze the outside a little. The variety of experiences to be had in this city is immense and delicious. Our first full day in San Fran was a gluttonous event. After the painful need to be patient in the Airport Zone, we were anxious to get out and walk the streets and just let things happen. Here's a quick overview.

Walk to Japantown from the Queen Anne hotel and stroll through the Japan City Mall. It was too early for the shops to be open, but then again we were functioning on East coast time and couldn't wait any longer. ("Jet-lag-space-cadets" will be a recurring theme on this trip around the globe) How wonderful to feel like one is in Tokyo again. All the restaurants display the plastic food version of their menus in a case outside their entrance. Each one is small piece of artwork, though not very palatable looking. Still they try for honesty and full disclosure! The Japanese sense of design and balance is attempted everywhere. The tables at the food court/coffee/tea shop area seem to be arranged by some kind of fen shui agreement that one could only enter the area safely in a path far away from the counter, approaching it from a circuitous route. We choose to come back later for Shrimp Tempura and a Sakora beer.

We walk about fifteen blocks of Filmore. It takes us two blocks to realize that there are brass stars imbedded in the sidewalks denoting the famous musicians and promoters of the "Bop" era during the heyday of the nightclubs and halls in this part of town. Very cool. (Al Jarreau was there.) This is apparently a street to avoid in the wee hours of the morning, but at 9 a.m. it is a palette of characters from every nation, every class and every dress code.

Take Grove up to Alamo Square. Voila, the Seven Sisters that are famous for being in every travel ad for the city. The birthday cake contest of house painting begins here. Perched at 45 degree angles to the "valley", these Victorian homes are a seemingly endless parade of the need to flaunt as may bright colors as their gingerbread architecture can handle. I want to know how it feels to live in a home that is five stories high on one end and three on the other. Escher would have a field day with that floor plan!

Another four or five blocks gets us to Haight, home of the hippy generation. The shops are as eclectic and alternative as you would expect and it is obvious that the neighborhood is hanging on to its history as the Psychodelic Rapture. Walls adorned with murals in primary colors, head shops, sex toys and the music stores. It's a long and interesting walk to Golden Gate Park. And an even longer walk through the park to get to the Japanese Tea Garden. (it didn't look that far on the map!)

The Japanese Tea Garden is one of the most beautiful places I have ever visited. It rivals the Chinese garden in Vancouver's Chinatown. This is not a large area by most standards, but that is what makes it such a treat. You are not feeling hurried to get it all in and so you take the time to relish the gorgeous design and balance in this work of art and love. Take tea. Stop and smell the junipers. Notice that alot of what makes this design "work" is the painting of different types of stone and mulch underneath and between the plants. Pretend that you are floating among the rhododendrens in a kimono. Or maybe not.

Walk out of the park and calculate that you have just about clocked your 7 mile mark. Take a cab back to Japantown for that well earned lunch. Everything is abuzz at the mall now! It is always enjoyable for me to be in a situation where I am definitely the minority unit. If one feels safe, it is interesting to be stared at as the exotic feature in the landscape. You get to feeling like you are really an interesting person! This is mere practice for India and Morocco.

It is early evening by the time we return to the hotel. What to do. What to do. Well, it makes perfect sense to celebrate Robbie Burns Night at the Edinburgh Pub in the Vietnamese district of town. This is the Scottish tradition of "blessing the Haggis" and reading Robert Burns poems in public. We arrive at seven, an hour early, in order to get a pub dinner. This is the menu: 3 pieces of fish and chips, 2 pieces of fish and chips, 1 piece of fish and chips, and just chips. We select our favorite and enjoy it, delivered in a wrap of newspaper, at the bar. It is a dark and seedy Scottish style pub. Men in kilts arrive. Some of them are young and upwardly mobile, while other are bearded, sotted and on a downward trend. The owner of the pub gets up and says a few words in a Glaswegian accent that would have been impossible to understand if I hadn't had the practice of listening to Tucker's family. We are treated to a little bagpipe music. Then the star of the evening is introduced. She is an old friend of the pub crowd that has returned for just this special evening and will be reading the final words. She had a shaved head and has been spending her time in a monastery becoming a Buddhist monk. And she is obviously gay. And she has a thick Scottish brogue. This is the nougat with a cherry in the middle and coated in semi-sweet chocolate.

12 Flights, 14 Airports, 9 Hotels, 4 Train Rides Later

Not to mention the cars, rickshaws, tuck-tucks,

elephants and camels.

Whoever said "Getting there is half the fun" must have stopped flying before 9/11.

The constant document checks, security checks, waiting, duplication of procedures, crowded planes and withering food and service on the flights makes travel an ordeal these days.

Although, to be fair, we only experienced one flight delay, our very first, out of Albany. This resulted in a "Hold that plane!" dash in Cincinatti as we changed terminals and barely got on our next flight, which indeed was being held for us. The real miracle, was that our luggage was never lost and even beat us to San Francisco.

An example of the frustration in travel was experienced in LA, where we could see our next plane parked about 70 yards from us as we docked, but had to walk almost a mile to get to, including leaving the building, going up and down a couple of flights, re-doing security and doubling back.

No wonder we have 21 glasses of wine on the table in the photo above. This was our first night of the trip in San Francisco where we met up with Greg and Linda Decker for a great meal at Bacar's - bruscheta, bacon wrapped venison and spaetzel. By the time we get to bed at The Queen Anne, we've been awake for almost 24 hours.