San Francisco Oh Oh

Got into San Francisco last night, having driven down from South Lake Tahoe. We would have got here earlier were it not for the miles of traffic we encountered south of Sacramento. South Lake Tahoe is a city built on the stateline between Nevada and California. The border slices the main street down the middle, meaning that there are huge casinos on the Nevada side, and wooden shopping malls on the Cali side. From sleaze to apres-ski respectablity in a block. There was also a 'Mark Twain' motel - who knows, maybe the great man has some connection with the place (in the years before it became a playground for rich and pseudo-rich Californians - it's quite surreal to be caught in a traffic jam on a two-lane cliffside road along the edge of a clear blue lake.

Spent Sunday afternoon at the public beach (having baulked at the entrance fee to the more proximate private beach, a place we had spent the previous evening). I closed my eyes and listened to the beach noises - so alien and strange to hear people talking and shouting exclusively in American ('He speaks in your voice, American'). Planes flew over, and quite low too (Homeland security protecting our little patch of heaven? Or just private jets flying vacationing businesspeople in? I couldn't shake the image of compounds, of closed borders, of how everything can appear to be peaceful, but how such an image must, in certain circumstances, be conjured by surveillance and suppression). As you can see, a simple trip to the beach can be fraught with complexity when you haven't had a proper meal that day. Ate well in the evening with booty from Safeway in out new motel room - much better than the non air-conditioned rathole nextdoor, where we had spent the previous night.

Today, wandering around San Francisco with Nathan and Ed, having said goodbye to the trusty Chevy Malibu. I recommend the car: a sturdy, reliable American automobile (takes brown paper bag with huge dollar sign on side from shady spook in a suit and shades).

Also, saw the McSweeney's Pirate Store, which was highly atmospheric and had a barrel of lard there for some reason. In the back of the store was 826 Valencia, a project started by McSweeney's to improve literacy and creative writing, often involving teaching in public schools.

Also, check our photo archive for more pictures from the trip.