Upon leaving the UK, I vowed to myself to try and eat as
healthily as possible and try and keep active in order to stay relatively trim.
I needn’t had worried as over the past three days I think I must have walked
every inch of San Francisco, managing to get lost numerous times along the way.
Yesterday saw me and some friends decided to check out Hayte
Ashbury area of the city. Hayte Ashbury is about as bohemian and hippy-like as
you get. An aroma of marijuana wafts down the bustling main street, between
scores of independent boutiques and bars. By the time that we left I almost
felt stoned and found myself bopping along to mellow reggae beats for the
majority of the tram ride back into the city centre.
Then followed the hostel pub crawl which ended up with me
doing shots with a redneck guy from Kansas and a US marine, as you do. Details
then began to get a little hazy but all I know is that I made it back to the
hostel despite inadvertently wondering through the cities red light district in
a highly intoxicated state.
Despite initially waking up with a thumping a headache, my
insistant Ozzy roommate decided that we were to visit the Golden Gate Bridge.
After stopping off for food, beer and football stops, we finally made it and it’s
easy to see why the image has become so synonymous with the city of San
Francisco.
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