Sunday, November 20, 2005

San fran-tastic cisco....and Oakland (part 2)

G'day again,

After spending nearly 2 months trying to compose my Burning Man write-up, I have finally gotten started on the rest of my West Coast sojourn thru the United States.

I started writing this 2months ago as well, then was trying to put my thoughts together on B-Man. In the end, I had to give up, coz i was just spinning out garbled shite that made no sense whatsoever (some of you may be saying - "so what's so different from what you normally write"!!)

But, anyway, back to San Francisco and Oakland. Post-Burning Man, and arriving back in San Francisco on the Green Tortoise bus at 7am, I was a dirty, dusty, exhausted and emotionally drained wreck. We all were. Getting back to the hostel, I knew I wasn't going to be staying there, but those who were, were told rooms would not be ready until Midday. So you had dozens of dirty, dustry, tired and emotional zombies flopped out in chairs and lounges in the communal area, trying to come to terms with what they had just done, where they had just been, and that they were back in "the real world", a concept that was a mind-fuck in itself.

I was gonna have to wait around anyways until my couchsurfing buddy Brad finished work and could meet me. I was moving on to Dan's place, where I would stay for the remainder of my time in The City. I met Dan in Paris waaaaaaaay back in June of 2001, along with his brother Gabe. We stayed in the same hostel, hung out for a few days, and most memorably, had a picnic of baguettes and salad, and shared a coupla bottles of the cheapest red wine in the corner market - all on the train station platform of Gare du Nord (the Northern Station). And now, 4 years later, I would be staying in his house for a week!

Him and his girlfriend shared a huuuuge house in the Oakland inner city 'burbs (right by the very picturesque Lake Merritt) with 3 others, and both worked full-time, thus leaving me to my own devices during the day. My English friends were to be staying on in The City for a few days also, and so my general daily routine was to wake up early, get a cafe brekky on trendy Lakeside Ave,



then train it in to SF on the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit), hang out all day and most of the evening, and get one of the last BART's back to Oakland and walk the mile or so back to Dan's.



Pretty hectic really. Our first night back in the 'real world', we decided to treat ourselves to an all-the-trimmings fancy restaurant dinner.

Venue of choice was "The Stinking Rose", a celebrated and well-famous 'Garlic Restaurant'. This place prided itself on their excessively large quantities of garlic they go thru each month - "We proudly serve food with our Garlic". It was pretty bloody good too. Very imaginative and wide-ranging menu. I had the 'Silence of the Lamb Shanks'...'with a Chianti glaze and fa-fa-fa-fa-fave beans' and side serve of garlic mash. Yummo. This place was seriously garlic. They had thousands of cloves in a string draped along the walls and across the ceiling ala christmas decorations....they even had garlic ice-cream on the dessert menu!! I tried it, gave it a shot like i am want to do...but i gotta say I didn't like it!! This place was so good, and the menu so artily designed, that I pilfered one which I plan to frame and hang on the wall.





Next day, it was time to play tourist.



If yer in San Francisco, you can't not go to Alcatraz. We all met up again for the ferry ride across the Bay, to perhaps the most famous prison on the planet, with the Golden Gate Bridge away off in the background.



It was a strangely very chilly day, and with the wind blowing made for a very cold day. I'd left the house in shorts and t-shirt, and had to purchase a hoody-top from one of the tacky toursity shops on the Fisherman's Quay district. Alcatraz was pretty interesting. More interesting than I thought it would be. Given its history and legend, it was fascinating to hear the stories Al Capone and other crims, the escape attempts, the living conditions, and of the ruthless wardens ruling over the inmates with brutal iron fists. It certainly gave you an appreciation of the place not gained from simply watching television doco's on it. Unfortunately, I've had a minor mishap with some of my pics (i lost one of my photo cd-roms), I can't share with you my Alcatraz experience.



Come evening time, another visit to the fabulous Mission district for another meal out, this time Spanish at a tapas bar, Picaro, for a mini-reunion of Burners, swapping photos and stories and gulping down carafe after carafe of that sweetest of Spanish alcoholic refreshments, sangria, mmmm, mmmm, mmmm.





Golden Gate Park and the Haight-Ashbury neighbourhood of San Francisco was where the seeds of the 1960’s Flower Power movement were sown, was where the Human Be-In was, and the Summer of Love in 1967 began, where LSD and free-love and the sounds of psychedelia emanated from, and was where the anti-Vietnam War movement really found its feet and got organized and coalesced into one of the most significant monuments in history to the true power of the people.

Here was a hot-bed of an underground movement of politically agitated students, activists, bohemian hippie-types and protesters. It’s where Jerry Garcia and The Grateful Dead called home. In short, once again, it was a place that I had to be, to investigate and explore and pay homage.



Of course these days, it’s little more than a tourist mecca, full of funky fashion boutiques, trendy bars and knick-knack shops, but it still retains an edge of bohemia and counter-cultural vibe.



It’s still heavily populated with students, artists, musicians and fringe-dwellers of society, and hence still an incredibly cool place to hang out, window-shop, or flip thru the racks in amazing record stores with a jaw-dropping diversity of music, sit in a cafĂ© or bar and people-watch. And it’s a great place to get around by bike, despite the massive, steep hills you need to navigate around, which what the English crew and I did for the bulk of that day. I’m sure as a local you’d discover the short cuts and by-passes to avoid this situation, and I’m sure they’d laugh at watching the tourists struggle to pedal in the lowest gear up Haight Street.

It was quite funny commuting between Oakland and SF each day – I was spending so much time at the Green Tortoise Hostel that the staff must honestly have thought I was staying there! So much so, that at the twice-weekly free-feed evening meals the hostel put on for its guests, no one so much as batted an eyelid when I stood in line and was served up a plateful of pesto pasta and salad. I s’pose given that I had spent US$360 on their B-Man tour, I felt slightly entitled to a free meal or two…

Alas, that all came to an end when the English crew reached the end of their American stay and jumped on planes back to London.

Despite staying at Dan’s place, I had hardly seen hide-nor-tail of him and Heather since I’d been there. As I say, they were both working full time, and I was out till all hours soaking up what The City had to offer. The Thursday night tho, Dan’s work were having a social drinks session at a bar in fashionable Nob Hill, to watch one of their workmates play in a band, and I’d gotten an invite to come along. I’m always up for checking out new bars and seeing new bands, so I was there. It was good to get a drinks session in with Dan and meet up with a bunch of new folk, I was feeling kinda bad for not being able to socialize with him.

Next up on my San Franciscan adventure was a visit to University of California Berkeley campus, followed by the ubiquitous bike ride over the Golden Gate Bridge, and down into the bayside resort town of Sausalito. It was a big day, bike wise, with a lot of kilometres covered.

I’d rented a bike for a couple of days after the English folk departed, and so cycled out to Berkeley from Oakland, some 45 minutes journey. The city of Berkeley has as it’s unofficial moniker “The People’s Republic of Berkeley”. Apparently this was originally meant as a Communist red-baiting disparagement, but has since been embraced as a rallying cry.



The University there was the radical core of the student-led free speech movements and anti Vietnam War protests of the late 60’s, and is now home to 30,000+ ethnically diverse, politically conscious and active students.







When I turned up there, the school year was just beginning and it was Orientation Week. There were thousands upon thousands of students on campus, all of the various Clubs and Societies had their tables out and reps handing out propaganda trying to entice new recruits to their cause. The main street leading to the campus, Telegraph Avenue, was thronged with young, wide-eyed, eager and excited kids crowding out the cafes, bars and shops.





The street-stall/flea market scene there was amazing as well, with all sorts of wares on sale, predominantly of the sloganeering t-shirts, hippie beads and bangles, and smoking paraphernalia ilk. The campus itself was beautiful, with age-old buildings nestled in behind well-landscaped gardens, spacious and open walkways and grassy lawns dotted with students lazing about, smoking, reading or chatting away. It made me want to be back at Uni again, for a little while at least.

Leaving Berkeley, I trained it out of East Bay and over the Oakland Bay Bridge to Downtown San Fran, and made my way out to Golden Gate Bridge, taking the long way round to take another peek at Haight-Ashbury. I thought I’d figured the city out to a fair degree by now, and hoping to try and avoid the more serious hills, I in fact did the opposite and rode straight in to the hilliest region in the city. I guess I didn’t know it well at all! I had to give up and walk my bike up one hill, and at one point I even had a copper pull up beside me in his cruiser, giving me a friendly slagging and having a chuckle at my efforts.

Now obviously the Golden Gate Bridge is one of those iconic sights, well-known and famous around the world. Built in 1933-37 and over 2 miles long, it is incredibly popular with tourists, and therefore was thronging with people wanting to walk or ride over it. In spite of myself, I got kinda excited about it myself, camera at the ready, trying to get the picture perfect shot. But this bridge must have been photographed literally millions of times. With the tops of the orange-coloured spires enshrouded in the famous SF Bay fog, and overcast grey weather, it provided an eery vista, kind of like you would see in a spooky Hollywood thriller film.



Cycling over it was indeed fun, my bell working overtime with all of the foot traffic in front of me. Over the other side is Marin County and down the hill to Sausalito, a pleasant, little yuppie playground town – a bit expensive, but a good spot for fish & chips and a pint, before catching the ferry back across the Bay to The City.



Now, the main reason I’d been hanging around SF was that I was waiting for the 7th Annual “Power To The Peaceful” Festival, a free peacenik activists’ music festival at Speedway Meadow in Golden Gate Park, run by Michael Franti from Spearhead.



As I mentioned in my last SF entry, I had put my hand up to volunteer for this event, wanting to be a part of this – not just a spectator – as it had been something I’d been looking forward to for at least 3 years.

The weather had been a tad gloomy the past few days, but this day was beaming with sunshine and blue skies – absolutely picture perfect. Rockin’ up at 10am, I reported to the Volunteers tent, was handed my free, bright orange volunteer T-Shirt and laminate badge, and was given Donation Collector duties, using my vocal chords and good-natured smile to request $1 minimum donations from punters, to cover event costs, as they entered the site. Two hours of that, then I was home-free, the day was mine.

The festival had everything you would expect to see, and the on-stage line-up consisted of a mixture of political activist speakers, outspoken black-power rappers (Saul Williams),



lefty-leaning punk-rock bands (Anti-Flag)



, celebrity speakers (Woody Harrelson)



, and of course, Michael Franti & Spearhead headlining with a 2hour set from 3.30pm.



To top things off, they even had a small section at the front cordoned off for the hearing-impaired and a deaf-sign language interpreter on stage, signing out the speeches and song lyrics to them. Now, that’s all-inclusive if I’ve ever seen it. That’s a perfect example of the kind of attitude and vibe permeating the festival.



The Michael Franti & Spearhead set was, as you would expect, nothing short of excellent. This man seriously has the most uncanny ability to raise the level to euphoria and carnival-party fun to stratospheric heights. The energy he gives out, and then subsequently feeds off the audience is truly phenomenal. He truly enjoys what he does and you can see that as he jumps bare-footed around the stage, dreadlocks flying, like a madman. His lyrics are enfused with a social and political conscious – music with a message – that resonates true and heartfelt, and this is reflected in his ‘one world, one people, everybody equal’ style of engagement with his audience on stage.

Being as big a fan as I am, I was right down the in the front section, boogey-ing away completely in raptures, soaking up the virtually electric energy surging thru the crowd. Several times thru the 2hour set I found myself grinning from ear to ear, and with tears streaming down my face, tears of pure joy and euphoric ecstasy. One girl beside me saw this and just gave me one big, huge hug, sharing in the spirit and vibe of the moment.

Special guest appearances were made by Zap Mama’s Marie Daulne, and rabid high-profile lefty Woody Harrelson who had a few pertinent words to say about George Dubya and the Iraqi War. Damn that guy is funny!! Also, super human-beatbox-er extraodinaire Radio Active hobbled on stage on crutches, victim of a drunk driver hit-and-run, and set the mic alight with his superb oral maneuverings.

After two encores, and the gig finished, Franti did as he always does with every show he plays, and jumped down into the audience to chat with his fans, generously giving hugs, signing autographs and posing for fan-photos. Naturally I was in there, and am now the proud owner of Tony & Franti digi-pic. Happiest guy in the world at that point!




Later that evening from 9pm, there was to be a Power To The Peaceful after-party club gig at a venue called 1015 Folsom, where there would be 4 rooms of music, one of them being a gig area. Spearhead, on top of the 2 hour set they played in the late afternoon, were to be playing another 2 hour set from Midnight to 2am!! The guy is unstoppable!! This gig had a $20 entrance fee, however if you volunteered to help set up the venue prior – free entry. Two guesses what I would be doing!!

Straight from Speedway Meadow to 1015 Folsom, with a pizza slice for dinner en route, a couple of hours of set-up and venue decoration…it was a long, long day. I’d hooked up with and befriended another coupla volunteers there, two cute young gals from San Jose who were as big a Franti fan as I am (No, I’m not the only fruitcake on the planet!!). Another superb set, with several hundred fans reveling in this intimate space with their hero just yards away on stage.



Wow, what a day. Another long-term dream realised – attending and volunteering at the PTTP, meeting Franti, and being an active part of an enormous event in the San Francisco calendar.

Another vital must-see site in San Francisco for me was the Fillmore Theatre in the Haight-Ashbury district. This music hall has been around for decades and has hosted most of the worlds most famous musicians and bands. Everyone from Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan, John Lee Hooker and The Grateful Dead to U2, Metallica, Nirvana and The Flaming Lips – and everyone in between have played here. History has been made in this venue, and some nights of musical, magical extravagance have gone down in folklore as some of the most special in time immemorial. I had to see a show here.



The Decemberists were playing two nights as the opening of their new North American tour, and having seen them play at the Summer Camp festival in Bend, Oregon, and having enjoyed their show immensely, I thought ’what better show to see is there this week than this’. Walking in to the venue, the walls are adorned with gig posters of events from the past 40 years that left my jaw dropping with amazement. At each and every show, gig posters are printed in their thousands and handed to patrons upon leaving the event, so I have my very own Fillmore Theatre gig poster, which will be proudly framed and hung on the wall at some point in the near future.

As with the gig in Bend, the band were sensational, their quirky pop sensibilities on show with accordian, mandolin, fiddle and double bass instruments delivering a decidedly different sound. The band are obvious college student faves, with the crowd demographics heavilty leaning to early-20's funky charity-shop clothes wearing types. The vibe was great, and with the band on form in such an awesome venue, I had an amazing night out.

Being in America, the visit would not have been complete without taking a baseball game. It is after all, their Number 1 sport, reputedly. Having mentioned in passing to Dan and Heather that I was interested in catching a game, they immediately suggested that San Francisco is possibly the best city in which to do so. The stadium, SBC Park, has an awesome location, right on the Bay's edge, so much so that any home run that is hit out of the park ends up in the water!! There are guys in dinghies sitting out in the water waiting for such an occurrence to happen, paddling over to souvenir any ball that comes thier way.





Not being a huge fan of the game, I have minimal knowledge of the intricacies involved - and believe me there are a lot, I have since found out - so it was very much a novel experience for me. I simply just wanted to soak up as much Americana, local culture, as I possible could in my short time here. The Sunday afternoon game I saw between the San Francisco Giants and Chicago Cubs, the 3rd game of the weekend between them, Chicago having won boththe Friday night and Saturday games. San Francisco had to win this one.



Approaching the stadium, scalpers were rife, but with one big difference - they were selling tickets below face value! I couldn't figure that one out. They weren't fakes, either, which my initial thought when asking about the price. Whatever, I couldn't knock back any offeres like that. I was prepared to spend $20 on a ticket, which would have given me an okay-ish seat. Instead, for the $20 i had, I was sold a $38 dollar ticket, which had me seated right in line with 3rd base and Home plate. Pretty darn good.



It was great day out all in all. The weather was fantastic, bright blue skies and a pleasant 27-ish degrees, and a very laid-back, family friendly atmosphere in the stadium. The only down side was that the San Francisco Giants lost, 3-2, thus dashing any faint hopes they still had of making the playoffs, just 2 weeks away from the end of the season.





I'm still not a huge fan of the game, but I do now have a more than passing interest in it, and I can now say I do have a better understanding of it. It also then generated somewhat of an interest in the World Series Playoffs happening later that month, and meant that I could at least participate in a conversation about the game. If I'm asked whether I follow a team, I can nominate the Giants.



The next morning, I was off, on a Greyhound bus, bound for Monterey, to stay with Dan big bro, Gabe and his fiance (now wife) Cathy.

So, that pretty much sums up my time in San Francisco - a time and a place I could never forget. That city, in such a short time, occupied a place deep in my heart so strong and enduring that it ranks up there with the best of my experiences across the globe.

If you ever, ever, ever get the chance or inclination - GO, do it, and don't give it a 2nd thought.



Talk later,

Tony