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Chris, Sam & Mark’s Travel Diary

Monday, 05 Mar 2007

Location: Kayak Crossing, USA


After waiting for 2 hours to get on the plane (apparently an AC problem) our long anticipated trip was underway. The journey began in true aussie style, with a few tinnies, the last decent beer we would see for a while. With no mile high club prospects apparent it was solo aviators division for the boys. Just joking , only Newbs. 14 hours went faster than expected and in no time San Fran was on the horizon.

Our first taste of American hospitality was dominated by uniformed men with guns refusing to hand out voluntry, full body cavity searches. Much to Marks dismay. We had also forgotten a visa form and had to covince the customs dude that we were infact tired Aussie tourists, not islamic extremists.


We caught the train into the city, past copious amounts of gum trees, and headed to our hotel. After some directions from a helpful homeless dude we found where we were staying. It was a funky smelling old school hotel, ominiously situated next to a gay strip club in an area known as Nobb Hill. We'd struck gold! Just joking, but really.

We caught a cable car to Fishermans Wharf, cruised the bay past Alcatraz and munged out on clam chowder. We thought we test some American beers so we went to a German pub (good option lads). Who would've thought that the first pub we walked into in the US would be showing day 1 of the first ashes test, crazy awesome. After several suspect ales we decided that 43hrs without sleep was enough and hit the sack.

Day 2 involved a copious amounts of strutting around the sights. A walking tour may not have been the best option in a city renouned for its hilly physique. We visited Chinatown for lunch and laughed at nuffies falling over on a public icerink (this was funnier than Jared getting bashed by Gary Coleman). A full day of walking was more than enough for Sam, he crashed at the hotel (or snuck next door) while Newbs and Siz went on an epic adventure to seek out the perfect pizza. We found it, 12 blocks away in the bad neighbourhood and over several not so small hills. It was well worth it though.

Day 3 brought the prospect of biking the Golden Gate Bridge, Sirro was up early getting in some streches and carbo loading for the tour, I mean, day ahead. We planned a casual ride over the bridge and back, surely no more than 2 hours. 6 hours and 39km later three very wounded soldiers caught the ferry back to the city and headed straight for the pub. Whilst reminissing about the arse chaffing events of the day we decided Hooters was the only option for dinner. Maybe it was the dozen pints we'd consumed but for some reason Hooters seemed to be viewed by the Yanks as a family restaurant, go figure.

For three guys who had come to the US to work as drivers our first experience behind the wheel was interesting to say the least. Although the drive from San Fran to Monterey and down to LA was fairly uneventful (except for a seagull deficating on Sams lunch chicken) we were in for some fun when we hit Hollywood.

Till next time Over and Out.