Get me home I’m soiled.
Well here we go again Jamie and I hitting the states with no intention other than to laugh at them, well that’s not strictly true, Jamie did have a little bit of running and swimming shit to do.So we smashed into T2 at Heathrow full of pretentious people buying pretentious shit at pretentious prices, we had a coffee and a 3.99 price deal from WH Smiths. Planer on time , always a good start, obviously it wasn’t going to get any better, on board and I notice no headrest TV’s, it seems that now you link in through your iphone/pad etc and stream movies straight off the web , a good idea in principle , however the battery lasts 2/3 hours and the flight 10……… Wankers what is the fucking point, FFS put the TV’s back in or provide power points you fucking useless cunts.
Anyway we survived the flight although I did miss the in flight chess game. Landed at SF and got a good look at all 4 terminals while our shuttle driver picked up every waif and stray the prick could find, even those that weren’t his to pick up. We got transported to our BnB and was surprised that I had fucked up and not booked the Friday, your mistaken I politely replied in my just been stuck on a plane for 11 hours voice, no problem he said the room was vacant and awaiting us, I honestly think that statement saved his life along with the fact that his name was Zimmerman.
We unpacked and decided on a plan of action…… we didn’t have one I won’t lie, but was instructed on all the kicking areas surrounding our abode by our host and his advice was taken and we went for a late afternoon stroll around the historic Alamo district of San Francisco, upon reaching the peak of Alamo park its self we both decided it was fucking cold with the wind biting through you up there so headed to a pub ‘ Mad Dog in the Fog sounded the ticket so we traipsed through Hayes valley only to realise that upon consultation the map said lower haigh was where we were supposed to be so off we went and soon discovered it 2 pints of Guinness later we headed back to the room for the evening meal in the restaurant opposite Alamo fish and grill…. Fucking luvvelly jubbly if your in the area try it , its fucking awesome. Hit the offy and retired to the room for a nights kip and a busy day ahead.
Saturday, We had breakfast, a rather talky toaster affair the bread was artisan , poncey , but bloody tasty unlimited tea/coffee and we hit the city centre to secure the servive of a two wheeled apparatus that J would need to do some charity shit, took the 2km stroll into the centre of SF and had a mooch got offered some ‘Cookies’ WTF and also witnessed a drug deal on the street , broad daylight so if you want some weed just head to Market Street around the Hotel Renoir and score a plenty , the smell of weed is fucking everywhere I shit you not you can’t walk a 100 yards with out getting the rather nice aroma drifting up your nostrils. Well we got the bike and also secured some pedals as numbnuts forget his, and them the bombshell, ‘ we just need a credit card for the deposit ‘ haven’t got one will a debit do ? ‘ not really as it freezes your money up to 72 hrs. Cue big bro to the rescue as he palms over Nationwide’s finest and then he took a deep breath as the hired help says lovely that will be $1500 don’t worry you’ll get it back once bike is returned. That bike then took on legendary status, I would of died for that bike, as we walked past the homeless and mentally deranged of which there was plenty to choose from , that bike was my baby , my flesh and blood my sole purpose for existing. We safely got it back to hotel and into the room and J took up his position as social media expert and updated every thing he could think of.It was around this time that Fraser got in touch and passed us onto Ellen who would show us SF in all its glory and some Yoga pants, didn’t know what they were and still not 100% sure , Ellen’s advice was Union Street not square was where all the yoga pants hid out , got the impression these were worth finding and it would be in our best interests to find them.
Roundabout 3pm J starts testing his bike you know the routine brakes , pedals , saddle chain and all that technical stuff and then tries to attach his shoes to the pedals, tries again ,and again, and now even I’m worried 20 to 4 we need to be 2 miles away by 5 and you have realised your shoes don’t fit the pedals, a frantic search of the net and a phone call and relief theres a shop a mile in the other direction that can help, off he runs while I sign up to UBER ( very impressed at the moment) J turns up at 4-15 and the taxi is right behind him get down to the course , signs his shit in a tent and I drink sierra Nevada whilst he listens to a talk on running stuff and shit, to be honest I shut down when people esque the joys an running and stuff….whats the fucking hurry prick, walk take in the surroundings and admire the beauty of whats around you. Tosser. Anyway we walked back and took in Union street not square and not a sight of these elusive Yopga pants, and then it was time for hill up Fillmore street Fuck its like setting fire to your hammies although walking backwards helps a bit, not been to SF then you will never understand it. Italian was the call of the day J needed his pasta and carbs , nothing special passable at most, headed back to room for 6 pack and whatever we found on the TV, me I was well looking forward to the morning when I could tidy the room and not look like some sort of twat whilst doing so.
I awoke to a note saying see ya later, and had breakfast with every intention of taking the hill again until that was, the 22 bus stopped outside the hotel, jumped on that and got off at union street not square and took up the hunt for these yoga pants, Ellen you lied !!!! not a pair in sight , but there again still got no idea what they look like brought some garlic tray thingy and took my spot at the finish line and realised got no idea what he is running in so will have to be on the ball if going to get any photos of him, well I waited and waited , his facebook updates told me he had finish cycling but no idea where he was , did I have time for a quick pint? What about a piss ? Then this vision of Adonis comes sprinting down the taped off field that served as the run in,he was that fast was he flying? even Achilles would not of caught him. Nor would of David Bailey have got it on tape.