Oakland and San Francisco

Upon arriving in the Bay Area, being struck down almost immediately by the mother-of-all-colds did not stop me from spending all day pounding the pavements in search of the 'sights'.  In the absence of a 'day job' (I do realise how awesome that is), I've discovered there's a special kind of guilt that comes with not 'achieving' enough when you're travelling.  I thought I was pretty immune to this - before I left I read an article by someone who 'hates sight-seeing' and identified strongly with it, believing myself to be above the need to cram in 'everything' in a particular place.  Wrong!

But if you're not cramming in 'everything', what do you do? Sit in a cafe for a couple of hours, explore the neighbourhood over a series of days... an approach recommended by followers of the Slow Travel movement, which I'd been reading about before my departure.

I've surprised myself with just how guilty this 'taking it slow' approach makes me feel - and yet when I've taken my own advice and actually spent 2 hours in a restaurant, talking to the bartender and watching people go by, those have been the best times of my trip.  I seem to be a very slow learner.

This last week in Portland has helped me to slow down a little.  If for no other reason than that Portland is a pretty slow, chilled town.  The fact that crafting is a cool thing with young folk potentially ought to have been a clue.  It's been my fave stop so far - but first, I'll fill you in on my must-fit-it-in-but-be-relaxed San Francisco journey - which was also pretty great at times.

Oakland

I stayed four nights in Oakland with Lauri, my host through Airbnb.com - new favourite travel site ever.  The idea is that you pay the host a fee for a room in their home - halfway between couch-surfing and BnB.

Lauri's Oakland apartment was a sage-scented, hippie haven (toilet lid down for feng shui, please), and Lauri was a wonderful host - giving me a tour of the neighbourhood and recommending the best vintage store/community crystal shop and common altar/co-op bakery/neighbourhood redwood grove.  The apartment was also on the shore of Lake Merrit, a beautiful spot for evening walks, with Canada geese, squirrels and beautiful gardens.

Lake Merritt

A neighbourhood mural showing the different countries represented in the community.  In between the Tasmanian devils and NZ punga ferns, and the Egyptian/Gauguin-looking Polynesian women, we have Kiwis and hobbits.  

World newspapers at a campus library, Berkeley.  All the other front pages were covering world politics/natural disasters... in New Zealand, Sonny Bill was giving his girlfriend an awkward kiss. Cheers NZ Herald. 

Pretty awesome catchphrase for a University book store

Mosaic at the Paramount Theatre, central Oakland

The Berkeley Naked Hippie Experience

The highlight (?) of my Oakland experience had to be the redwood-grove spa in some old guy's back yard in Berkeley.   Lauri tentatively suggested it on about my third day staying with her.  The deal is this: guy has a redwood grove in his backyard.  Puts a hot tub there in the 60s, wants his friends to use it.  Instals key pad.  Word gets out - everyone's now welcome, code changed regularly so you have to know him or know-someone-who-knows-him to use it.  Other than that, all welcome - no talking, clothing optional.

Silence!

Weird, kinda scary, potentially beautiful - you can't say no.  After finding the shingle house and holding my breath to let myself in with the secret code, I found myself in a quiet redwood grove with wooden platforms for people to chill out on, and a hot-hot-tub.  About three other people, one discreetly practicing naked yoga in the corner (etiquette: point the downward-dog at the fence...), another reading the New Yorker in a hammock.  Once you get over the no-talking, most-people-are-naked vibe, it was the most stunning spot.


After an hour of that carry-on I was more relaxed than I'd been the whole trip, and on the bus ride home I felt like an initiated member of a secret hippie society, wondering whether anybody on the bus knowingly noted my beetroot-red hot-tub legs as a sign that I was one of the club...

San Francisco 

After arriving and mistakenly walking directly through the heart of the Tenderloin (do I have a dollar/would I like some meth?), my first few days at the City Center hostel were a little hectic.  Things turned around once I switched to another hostel and busted the bank on a room of my own (Virginia was onto something).
Some highlights of my stay in San Francisco:

China Town tour - first Buddhist temple in the US

Hand-made fortune cookies - apparently these were invented in San Francisco.  Still warm & super delicious.

Tea tasting from a full-on Chinese Missy Elliot lady

Britex fabrics - 4 floors open 'till 9

Living roof at the California Academy of Sciences - one of the best museums I've been to, amazing.

'gator at the Academy of Sciences

...and glow-in-the-dark sea anemones!

...and a rain forest that you could walk under, around and up while butterflies flitted about your head. Amazing.

North Beach/Little Italy

Presidio military cemetery (potentially lost whilst looking for the bridge...)

I had planned on staying longer in SF, but after a week the loud rush of the city had me wanting to head for a quieter spot.  So, an Amtrak train (my first yet, luxurious) brought me to Portland ahead of schedule - right decision.  People are chill here, there's a distinct lack of 'sights', and the coffee is the best yet.

But for now that's more than enough from me!  Lots of love 'till next time,

Sarah x