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DAY FOUR Monday 09/05/2011

Today was Alcatrez day. On the way there it was nice and pleasant weather and we hopped on the F bus. We had to get off and catch a subway after the driver announced that there would be a delay due to someone threatening to jump off a building in the most used intersection in the city. A lot of people on the bus complained and called the person selfish and "why couldn't he have waited 15 minutes" or "hurry up and jump".

On the Subway we met an English couple who had been there for 6 weeks. I like San Fran a lot but I don't know how long I could spend there... The guy talked fast and somewhat nervously telling me that he didn't like Hungarian food, followed by the fact that he was a strict vegan...well duh...idiot.

We got to Pier 33 right on time, just as they were boarding and I stood out on the boats' platform taking photos of the Golden Gate bridge and the Island we were soon to approach. It was windy, quite chilly...but we came prepared :)

The Island was beautiful. On first approach it reminded me of Cockatoo Island, the rust, dilapidated buildings and bird crap. But there was a distinct difference... tourists... EVERYWHERE. You wouldn't find ONE local on that Island and if you could they were giving the tour.

The actual prison was really exciting. I'd never been inside a prison before and it was kind of freaky actually physically taking in the little space each prisoner had allocated to themselves. Sam pointed out that they seemed to spruce up the place not to make it so depressing. I guess she was right. In midst of audio tour telling us about the numerous escapes and dangerous people that were locked away there, there were the oil paintings and radios on display that only very privileged prisoners were able to have. Prison life seemed difficult, but not as difficult as I'm sure it would've been.

The view of the bay and the city from the Island was stunning and we took photos.

Once off the boat- quickly slinking away from the greasy Italians that were inching closer to us- we decided to check out the OTHER touristy place we were recommended.

Pier 39 was like a worse version of Darling Harbour. I thought of the fake towns and useless souvenirs in Tokyo Disneyland. It so odd to think that people actually like this area. There is nothing beautiful here, there is nothing interesting here, there is only shopping and nothing of value either.

I didn't even want to take pictures...just get out of there.

But then I heard the sea lions!

Not much to say about them actually.

They just laze around whilst hundreds of tourists circulate the wharf taking pictures and laughing at their 'playing'.

With not much else to do we decided it was time to check out Golden Gate Park, even if it was all the way on the other side of town. SO WORTH IT.

First of all, it was an incomprehensibly huge park. Second, it was beautiful. We passed the 'hippy hill', the drumming circle and the Flower Conservatorium. The de Young Museum was closed for the day but we didn't mind... we wanted to spend what ever time we had left in the park. We found a section called 'Shakespeare Garden' and spent time there, laying the grass, amongst the daises, bathing in the afternoon Californian sun. I wrote in my diary;

"Right now we're sitting in one of the most beautiful parks I've been in. 'Shakespeare Garden', very green, simple with its' benches and sun dial with daisies everywhere. The sun is shining gently on my cheeks, a breeze, light and soothing, carries a familiar and welcomed scent. I've suddenly fallen for San Francisco. The pleasantness of the honey aroma of these daisies, the sweet harmonies of the sparrows and little birds and the frolicking of my first American squirrel. I could bathe in this ambience forever. I would be more than happy to say that I feel some San Francisco hippies inside me."

Two minutes later a ground hog appeared from the ground. As we walked out we passed a cute boy reading a book and smoking a joint on hippie hill. The path out lead us past a cute green pond with ducks and magical feeling in the air. We gazed up towards the tall trees and I saw a hawk.

That was my favourite part of San Francisco and I was glad that that was the last afternoon moment it left me.

Oh yeah, and in the hotel Sam met an Italian guy who was studying English in San Fran. He was nice enough, Sam thought he was gay but I told her he was just Italian. I was right.