Alcatraz Island

We're up in decent time (no surprises etc etc) and headed down to Pier 33 for our ferry over to Alcatraz. I've seen a bunch of movies that the island stars in, and been excited to experience it first-hand.

The first challenge we encounter is that there is no wine or beer served on the ferry OUT to Alcatraz - only on the return leg. My travelling companions threaten violence. We encounter some folks in the queue who are from Arizona, and who made their way up the street to get a Bloody Mary. We seethe. The ferry ride is fun. Karl has spread himself across the city today. We're promised slightly brighter conditions by the afternoon, but the thick, low lying cloud we're heading through suggests otherwise.

Arriving onto the island, we immediately see the archaic structures of the prison. There's a guy called Bill Baker giving a little talk - he is one of the last remaining known inmates that's still alive. He's talking of his experiences, how scared he was, how he ended up here. We head up the alarmingly steep hill towards the cell blocks. They are stark to look at. Devoid of any creature comforts, tiny. I know prison isn't meant to be a cake walk, but this is horrifying. At one point, we come across the sensory deprivation cells - used for solitary confinement, and for the treatment of certain mental health conditions. Not a fun place to hang out. We read about the Native American occupation of the island some 6 years after the prison actually shut. It's a chastening way to spend time...

We get back on the ferry, and are delighted to find that the bar is open. The return trip is only fifteen minutes, but that's long enough for us! Arriving back to Pier 33, we jump on a bus to head up into North Beach. We have sensational Cheesesteak sandwiches for lunch at Buster's. We walk through Chinatown, and see some stuff that really doesn't look like food being sold as food. We stop for cocktails, then shots, then more cocktails. We visit a bar made famous as a beat-era hangout for the likes of Kerouac and Ginsberg. Tired (pissed), we head back to the apartment for a rest, before heading out later.

Suitably refreshed, we head to the Tonga Room, a Tiki bar with rain, a lagoon, and a thunderstorm. We have some rum cocktails that are stronger than is entirely necessary, and decide that we are ravenously hungry. We head to Miller's Rest, a cool pub/restaurant in Nob Hill (chortle), and eat literally everything. The food is so all encompassing that our drinking actually slows - probably no bad thing. We pour ourselves into a taxi, and are back home a little after 22:00, and ready for bed.Leggi altro