Yesterday was my day of exploring San Francisco. I decided bike was the best way to get around, especially given that I was alone, and didn't fancy sitting on public transport in the heat of this freakishly hot weather that northern California has been enjoying/suffering for the last few days. I managed to stay in bed til 7am, which isn't bad really considering my body clock was convinced it was 3pm. After calling home and eating some of the hostel breakfast I headed out into the seedy streets that surrounded the hostel, only getting harassed by one homeless person this time (result!) and found my way to the bike hire place.
Armed with my bike and its "hi-tech sat nav", i.e. folded map with scribbled instructions packed into a plastic wallet on the handlebars, I headed for The Bridge. I have some great photos of my journey, but I'm without my laptop at the moment so i can't add them I'm afraid - I'll try to illustrate when I get back from the wilderness. It was bloody hot anyway, and although I enjoy the sunshine, it's quite strange to feel like someone's switched a giant hairdryer onto you whenever you go down a hill. Cycling across the Golden Gate Bridge I was blessed with the cooler Pacific winds, and as I made it across to the other side I decided I might as well do a decent ride. All in all I think I did about 18 miles, which isn't too bad given the heat of the day (although I know it's not exactly LEJOG ;) ), and it was great to get out of the city and around some of the pretty suburban parts of Sausalito and then on to Tiburon. My highlight came just after I had climbed this stupidly steep hill ("it's pretty flat after the bridge" said the bike rental guy... LIES!!) and was greeted by two girls, about 9 years old, at a lemonade stall by the side of the road, with their dad, and a sign saying "collecting money for... our college funds". I bought a Sunkist and asked them which college they were planning on going to. "we don't know yet", they replied. I recommended York.
The ferry ride back to San Francisco was very windy but offered some beautiful views of the bay. I toyed with the idea of cycling over to the Golden Gate Park where Jason Mraz was due to perform, in the hope that he might be doing some of his famous pre-gig busking nearby, but looking at the time realised I probably needed to get moving. I took my bike back, collected my things from the hostel and headed to get the train back to the airport.
The ACE (American Conservation Experience) meeting point was the "Reflection Room" - a strange idea, I guess it's like a prayer room but more San Franciscan - and after everyone for the pick-up had arrived we headed to the parking lot, led by Joel, the manager of the Santa Cruz base.
The van and trailer awaited (very Trek America!) and I rode shotgun because nobody else wanted to, and I chatted to Joel most of the way back to the base. I pointed out that the windscreen, which looked like a fly graveyard, probably could do with a clean. I was conscious of using the English version of the word and when Joel replied by saying something about not wanting to use the blades on it, I found it amusing that Americans see the protection of the front of the car as some kind of military situation. They need the protection of a SHIELD, presumably from the threat of their wiper BLADES. Haha.
Arrival at the house was an experience. I vaguely remembered signing something in the contract about keeping my home clean, and wondered whether anybody else who'd ever lived there had signed anything similar.
The yard for a start is littered with bike parts, broken bits of furniture, bin bags strewn across the driveway, and what looks like a child's car seat. I was shown to my room, which is in a flat below the main house, and realised there was a party already going on. And everyone's invited. Oh, except only if you're an ant. Bits of days-old food and unwashed dishes filled the sides of what is optimistically labelled the "kitchen". The whole place is grimy and unkept beyond belief. The paintwork's clearly never really been attended to by anybody taking it seriously. There are bags and bits of outdoor gear and books and God knows what else taking up all the space in what would otherwise be a reasonably sized living space for the inhabitants.
My bed, one of two top bunks in the room, was adorned generously with a faded lilac folded sheet (no duvet, blanket, or even pillow), a folder full of waiver forms to sign, and a well-used tent which is to be my home-from-home-from-home. Above my bed is a neon light half-shaded by a cracked plastic cover. I took a deep breath. It didn't taste clean.
Greeting our new housemates and colleagues I started to realise this wasn't going to be exactly as I'd expected. They weren't as overwhelmingly thrilled with the experience as I had expected them to be. Projects haven't been quite as romantic or exciting as you might think, and clearly BUNAC either aren't entirely in the loop about the Santa Cruz ACE base, or they've actually missold the experience.
I wasn't the only one feeling a little worried. Bea, an Italian girl in the room opposite, went very quiet and with her still fairly limited English expressed her feelings about the state of the bathroom. When I went to investigate I noticed the motorway of ants running along the rippled wallpaper.
We headed to the store to pick up some bread for breakfast, and then a few of us went down to the (surprisingly chilly) beach for a drink, where I listened to more horror-stories about projects gone wrong, miserable experiences. Except, I realise now that they're not really that miserable. They talk about ACE in a similar way to the way we used to talk about Goodricke college - it was so ridiculously awful that it was funny, and we all just got on with it, and I had the time of my life. And so I'm kind of ok with it all. It's not going to be like Trek America. It's not going to be brilliantly organised and excitement-a-minute and a new National Park every other day. But I'm gonna come back with some funny stories, and a tan, and having learned something about patient endurance. So bring it on.
I'll hopefully post again on 17th September. Until then, happy birthday Mum, Leon, Isaac (and happy new baby time Andie and Rich if the little one pops out early).
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