McKinley Square

Waking in Willits is even colder than Sonoma. My phone reckons it's 6C, and the vapour I'm breathing out suggests this is fair. We've a long and fairly slow drive today - over to the coast, and South down the Pacific Coast Highway to San Francisco, with a few stops along the way throw in for good measure.

We're on the road before 07:00, and I have to admit I'm a little disappointed by the presence of Karl - the name Californians have taken to using for the early morning fog and mist that sits in the valleys in this part of the world. It's ethereal and really quite startling, but I worry that it'll linger, and somewhat ruin the dream of driving down PCH1 in the glorious sunshine...

We stop in Fort Bragg, ostensibly to see the glass beach - a beach made entirely of smoothed glass from a nearby recycling location. As we exit the car, there are murmurs about the temperature, and we make it about a quarter of the way to the beach before we eject, heading back to the relative warmth of the car. We elect to grab some breakfast, and head further South, in the hope that we'll find the sun...

We do not.

The next 5 hours are a bit of a slog. Very twisty and sweeping roads alongside the rocky clifftops, a succession of places that we can't stop for a beer, and the continuing murky presence of Karl. At one point, the temperature hits a heady 13C. I'm genuinely a little sad that the elements have conspired against us, but I manage to put a moderately brave face on it.

We stop for lunch in Bodega Bay, and grab a glass of wine to accompany an astoundingly good cup of clam chowder. Reinforced, we head onwards. Vicki snoozes in the back, whilst Ant and I take in the dramatic scenery. Around 14:00, something changes. Suddenly (and I do mean suddenly) the clouds break, and we're driving through bright, warm sunshine. As we drive alongside Tomales Bay, the view is glorious. Exactly what I'd dreamt of for this trip...

It's not long before we find ourselves heading over the Golden Gate Bridge, which is a truly iconic experience. We meander through the heavy San Franciscan traffic, and arrive at our apartment around 15:30. It's been a long but interesting drive...

After I've dropped the rental car back, we make some evening plans - to head down into the Mission District, grab a coupla drinks and some food. Our house is basically right at the top of Potrero Hill - there's nowhere to go but down, and we scuttle our way to a bar called Lost Resort, where a v cool bartender make us some v strong cocktails. We wobble on to our next pit stop at True Laurel, where another v cool bartender makes us some more v strong cocktails. Giddy with excitement (i.e. pissed) we meander down to Valencia Street right in the heart of the Mission District, and which is lined with great and funky little places to eat. We park at Bao, and enjoy some top notch dim-sum. The pork soup dumplings are staggeringly good.

None of us are in the right frame of mind / state of physical well-being to attempt the mountain climb back to the apartment, so we jump in an uber, and are tucked up in bed not long after 22:00...Read more