So we said goodbye to our home for the past week and headed
to our hostel in the city centre. We were lucky enough to be situated very
close to the centre of town, and in quite a safe spot. We spent most of our
time in San Fran literally just walking around the town. After orienting ourselves
on the first day (well Dave orienting himself, you turn me around a few times
and I’ve no idea how to get back home…. Even after walking the streets all
week!), we set off on a walking tour of the Castro and Mission District of
town. The Castro has its history in being the start of the gay civil rights
movement in San Fran, as evident in all the rainbow flags everywhere. It’s a bit
of an ‘anything goes’ neighbourhood, where nudity was only banned last year.
There are still a number of people protesting this ruling and defying it,
walking around the streets naked!
Next up was Mission District, named so after the first
mission was built here by the Spanish after Saint Francis of Assisi. Nowadays it’s
the hipster hang out, with no chain stores allowed in any of the main streets,
only independents and thrift shops, making it a pretty interesting place to
wander.
One thing that was rather confronting for us was the abundance of homeless people in the city. For a city of under a million, there is significantly more homelessness than in Melbourne (or at least, much more overt than Melbourne). It was pretty heart breaking seeing beggars on every corner, people wearing every item of clothing they own and scavenging through bin after bin for food. It definitely made us feel absolutely helpless.
The next day we headed across to Alcatraz, a penitentiary for
the worst of the worst prisoners after the civil war until 1963. The audio tour
that went along with the ticket price was surprisingly good, with ex inmates
and guards narrating some of the harrowing stories that went on there. It
reminded me a little of Port Arthur, with many of the dehumanising techniques
used (such as prisoners being a number rather than a name, solitary confinement
etc.) One interesting element of Alcatraz’s history I wasn’t aware of was it
was occupied by American Indians in the 1970’s and resulted in bringing their
civil rights into the forefront.
After Dave got his long-awaited serving of Clam Chowder on Fisherman’s
Warf, seeing an abundance of sea-lions and being hustled into giving all our
loose change away to a dodgy shoe-shiner, we took the Cable Cars back to the
city centre. Although super touristy – it was actually an awesome way to see
the city.
In the evening we tried to head out to see a local band, but
after traveling on the public transport for an hour and half, not getting close
to where we needed to be, rather in a dodgy part of the city, we decided to
call it quits and give up on San Fran’s horrid transportation system.
The tour stopped at the old whiskey distillery of the era,
telling us the story of the many religious zealots claiming the fires were the
wrath of God punishing all the people for their wicked ways. In response to
this, one lovely poet declared:
“If as they say, God burnt the
town for being over frisky, why did he burn the churches’ down and save
Hoteling’s Whiskey?”
One particular interesting story was where the saying being ‘Shanghaied’
came from. During the Gold Rush, many sailors from around the world would
abandon their ships when they arrived in San Fran in search for gold and a
better life, so incidentally it was difficult for captains to be able to return
home with their ships when they had no one to man them. So captains would pay
locals to get them men to sail their ships. One guy, Shanghai Kelly, was very
good at this, inviting randoms into his bar, having them sit on a particular
seat, and shared a glass of whiskey with them, only their whiskey was laced
with opium. After they passed out, the trap door would open beneath them,
dropping them into one of the many underground tunnels throughout the city. He
would then take the unconscious men to the waiting docks, dump them on a ship
and collect his payment! When the poor hung-over guy woke up the next morning,
he was in the middle of the Pacific Sea with no way home for about 2 years!
We ended up finishing our time heading to the famous Filmore
Theatre to see a band (this time successfully working out the public
transport), unfortunately we didn’t bring the camera, but it is a stunning
theatre with an amazing musical history.
Sharon
