|San Fran - the streets of|
Nobody answered the door. After a while a couple of French girls came out asking us stuff in French as if we were the managers of the Hotel. After both sides explanations of I don't knows and mutual confusion, Mr. German bloke Mississippi ranger jumps off a land rover passing by with a bundle of washing and says hello to all of us at the door. We follow him thinking this might be our man.
Once French girls calmed and sorted out, he takes life slowly with us. He tells us his life and asks us about ours. He's German but he thinks people think he's Brazilian. He spent a few years there organizing alternative trips through the jungle and Mississippi river. He's traveled all over and misses it. He also speaks Spanish, of course. From here onwards, everybody would. We're starving. He shows us pictures and articles of himself on the papers. Finally he shows us quite a decent room and is a bit elusive to show us a place where we can have a bite.
We go out and head up the street. There's a few Mexican eateries and we have an enormous burrito in one of those. The best Mexican food I would have even in Mexico. First confusion about talking in Spanish or English to obvious Mexican guys.
We spent about four days in
San Fran. We went to visit some museums, crossed the famous huge Golden
Gate bridge overlooking the island of Alcatraz, bloody impressive even
if it's just a tourist thing nowadays. On the other side there's this
Sausalito place with the beach and nice walks and nice life, seemed to
And we changed our tickets.
Miles would fly Mexico city-New York-London in a couple of weeks time
and I would continue my route canceling other USA destinations. South
America was waiting for me!