Kristen, my top-drawer cousin, has come to Florida to visit several times, but I had only been to see her once, as part of a family road trip. So I visited her the week after Steston classes let out, during UC Berkeley's "reading days," between the end of classes and the start of finals. I arrived at SFO, on time, via Dallas-Ft. Worth, and waited for Kristen. She was stuck in traffic, so I confused security guards by leaving the checkpoint and then returning, with all luggage, to see if she had went over to the gate while I was at the baggage claim. But, thanks the the amazin' courtesy phone system we met up a little while later and left, driving away to the tune of "Goodbye Earl," which song was highly disturbing to us both.

For entertainment we take some pictures from the car. We were coming from the airport, driving north on 101 among a lot of Saturday traffic when this was taken.

Eventually we got to Japan Town, and a "right before your cooked eyes" restaurant, where one of Kristen's friends was celebrating her birthday. They had the exact same tables and chairs as the Japanese "right before your cooked eyes" in Altamonte Springs outside Orlando. Cosmic.

For the next two days we explored Berkeley. Highlights included the homeless man whose cardboard sign said "Writing book. Please help"; seeing street person Cobra literally push someone for some pot; waiting outside one of Kristen's classes by napping on a warm patch of grass and then sneaking up behind her when she came out and startling her; attending another of Kristen's classes and watching in mesmerized fascination as she doodled artistically in her notebook; many, many more coffee shops than I could have thought possible; figuring out Freecell on Kristen's roommate's laptop; playing War on a bench across from the union building; and (most important) Spit!

The next day we took the subway, which was called Bart, to San Francisco and spent the day walking around at random, stopping in every (almost) park we came to to play Spit. We even randomly wound up back in Japan Town at the restaurant. It just sucked us in. But here's a view from the top of one of the hills we climbed. We we very can-do about hills; we accidentially walked up, and back down, Russian Hill before realizing what we were doing.
The first park we stopped to play Spit at was interesting. No one was there and it looked like it was in an upscale neighborhood (a Disney Store was nearby), so imagine our surprise and delight when a guy showed up and started to take off his clothes. Some weird California nude park? No, the guy had a Speedo and was there to work on his tan. Back to Spit. Kristen, despite possessing the speed of a striking mongoose, lost, so she has a sad picture, looking like a sad, contemplative Samuri warrior.
Whereas I won, and I just look like I'm on crack. Jeez.

After a lot of walking, we noticed a tower in the distance, and figured it was Koit Tower, which a friend of Kristen's had said we should visit, since neither of us had before. So we started off in its direction, a direction which involved many more hills, but it looked like we had a clear bead on it.

However, we were soon distracted by another park, this time with a church on one side. We stopped there for more Spit and to rest.
Soon, though, we were back on an uphill, with a better view of the tower. That's Telegraph Hill at the end of that road (underneath all the greenery), and Koit Tower is the thing on top. It's named after a philanthropist who gave a bunch of money to beautify the city, so naturally they built a tower.
When we were almost there, we stopped so Kristen, who was carrying the camera, could take a flattering picture of me demonstrating the effects of the hill. Note on the left-hand side of the street behind me the trees of the church's park are visible.
So we finally get there, pay the man to take us up the tower in an old-fashioned elevator (very reassuring), and get our view. Look at all the hills we climbed! There was also a bunch of foreign money in the window alcoves that you couldn't get at because of plastic windowpanes. It was distracting. On the way down, you go around the side among greenery and old historic stuff, which is cool for several reasons (the downhill slant included).

After all the walking, we did some more walking, down Haight-Ashbury (which I may have spelled wrong), a street full of strange people wearing studded leather dog collars and lots of other goth-style accessories. At the eventual end of the street was...a grocery store. That and Golden Gate Park. Naturally we sat down just inside it and played Spit there, too. But we were too tired, and (more important) it was getting too late to walk further into the park, so we gave up our pride and took a bus back to the subway. It was a bus full of people, including a scary strange woman who was dressed in layers of patched clothing and carring a small pet carrier, which Kristen reassuringly suggested contained a dead baby. But that's another story.

The next day things got even more exciting as we rented a car, which involved us riding a bus to a marina in Berkeley and me buying gas during one of the more exorbitant periods of gas-pricing. But the debit card was well fortified, so aside from the indignity of having to pay $1.80 a gallon, no damage was done. Once in the car, we went back towards the university to pick up Kristen's friend Julie from a sorority house (sorority mansion, more like, but then I'm from DeLand), and we drove south to Monterey, which we took no pictures of. Mainly we were going for the aquarium there, which I'd been to, but which Kristen hadn't seen, and it seemed like she ought to, living so close and all. So we walked down Cannery Row (I felt no twinge whatsoever at not being in the middle of reading a Steinbeck novel), and spent the afternoon at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. For lunch we stopped at a Mexican restaurant, which I mention because it's the only Mexican joint I've ever been to where I didn't really like the food. We drive back up the coastline on the Pacific Coast Highway, having avoided it when southbound because that's the side you're next to the edge on.

The next day Kristen had a couple finals, so I kept the car and used it to entertain myself by going a few more places. And it really was a pretty nice car, a Sentra, and compared to driving my car, or my parents' old minivan, it was sporty.

Now, the ultimate destination of the day was Muir Woods, which is a wonderful place filled with giant, old, peaceful trees. Those trees are some of the last old-growth redwoods in California, and quite spectacular. I'd been to once before with my family, and I wanted to make sure that while I was in the area I made it back again. But on the way I got a little sidetracked by the Golden Gate National Recreation Area, which encompasses the Marin County Headlands, and which the visitor center told me was once populated by Portugese cattle farmers. Now it has some famous views and a lot of little scenic winding roads. So I stopped by there because I had the whole day before I had to drop off the car.

Just on the north side of the Golden Gate Bridge there's a turnout for all the tourists. This is a view back from the way I came. That land across the bay is where Berkeley is, approximately. While looking, I had an interesting experience, thinking about how this palce, a vast estuary, must have looked two or three hundred years ago.
If you continue on into the park, you wind along roads like the one you can see here, cutting a tan ribbon along the side of the hill.
After driving around aimlessly and stopping to learn about the Portugese farmers at the visitor center, I wound up at a beach, of all things. Not that I would go swimming there.
After poking around the beach, looking at the rocks and seaweed, I headed inland more, and stopped at a likely-looking turnout (where the car picture was taken) across from a hill with a gravelly path leading up it. I headed up, and it was surprisingly steep, so I had to scrabble in places, but I stopped to take a picture of the hills from the side of another hill.
And when I got to the top, I had a fine view. I sat and watched a ocean-going ship enter the bay (still visible behind the left side of the bridge), read a little in the sun and the cool breeze, and almost (but not quite) fell asleep. It was a really unique experience, sitting at the top of a 600-foot hill, no one in the world knowing where I was, checking out the bay and the sea and the little purple and yellow flowers growing in the grass.
To finish off the tour of the park, I headed around the ocean-side of the park to Hawk's Hill on an even more winding and curving road to some turn-outs with old World War II defensive positions and even more chiche views for me to photograph.
Then, on my way out, once I was past Hawk's Hill I stopped for one more shot, this time from a lower elevation.

By then I was pretty hungry, so I stopped at a Wendy's near Vallejo, which seems to be a city made entirely of factories; at least that's what it looked like from the highway. Even greasy junk food couldn't ruin the day's sense of well-being. Muir Woods (that's another Muir Woods website) was great. I sat and watched a robin pull up worms (okay, being from Florida, this is something new) and walked around the main paths. Unfortunately, it was a little too late in the day to take a longer walk, but most of the most impressive trees are gathered in a fairly small area. I remember standing in front of a huge cookie section of a fallen tree, looking at the dates its rings represented. The Battle of Hastings. 1492. The American Revolution. The Civil War. 1944. It's just amazing how long the trees there have been around; confronted with things that old, you feel you're in the presence of something greater than yourself, and it's very humbling. Between the sitting on the hill and the trees and the driving around, it was one of the most contented and peaceful and satisfying days I have ever spent.

Also greater than my camera is a forest's dappled sunlight. The stream in the extreme foreground (that looks mostly blurry) is Redwood Creek, a very cold, clear production of the mountainous hills that rise above Muir Woods.
I returned the car and made it back to meet Kristen that evening for a final game of Spit. Note the fish drawn on the far wall. I didn't notice it until I saw the picture.

The next day, Friday, I spent the morning with Kristen before she had to go to another final. Then in the afternoon I rode the subway (which I thought would be more crowded late Friday afternoon) to meet Arlene, who I'd met almost two years ago on, of all things, the internet. Being an "internet person," was something new and a little odd at first, but it was actually more exciting than stressful to meet a stranger I'd actually already met but in a different format (if that makes any sense to you, pat yourself on the back; I've just confused myself). Anyway, it was a lot of fun to see the local sights and hang out.

Monday I was back at the airport, saying goodbye to the courtesy phone . . .
and taking the obligatory picture of the airport.