Hangin' With the Homeboys
Wednesday morning was, again, more shopping and walking round the Castro and, by the afternoon, I was ready to spread my wings a little further, so I hopped the Muni to Powell and then jumped the Cablecar for Powell and Hyde. What a blast!
I dunno there's something just magical about rising up on those steep hills on those rickety little cars with people jamming the insides and hanging off the side running boards. I don't care even if it is a completely touristic thing to do.
My destination was Russian Hill - not necessarily everyone's idea of where to go in San Francisco but for me it is Tales of the City country. And for a good couple of hours I wandered round looking at the incredibly beautiful buildings there (and for a city that is pretty damn near all beautiful buildings, you have to go some to match Russian Hill). I found myself at the top of Lombard Street (windiest street in the world) with views down each street - Coit Tower one way, Alcatraz and Fisherman's Warf another, the Presidio another and, finally, back into the City and the Powell-Hyde Cablecar to tie it all together.
Magic, pure magic.
Food at the Patio cafe again - weren't too impressed with Cafe Flore as a place to eat - great place to hang out, mind. Big smiles from Gabriel who is not our waiter this evening but comes round to talk with us and dish. We end up with this Chris O'Donnell look-alike for a waiter. And I'm not complaining!!!
It pisses down with rain while we are there. Real tropical storm. I worry a bit about Chris who by this time will be coming into the City on his motorbike. Anyhow Rod and Dale go off to their show and I head back to the apartment to watch some video and wait for Chris who turns up at the appointed hour soaked through. Anyhow we clean him up and head off to Cafe Flore.
We are joined by some guy whose name I can't remember (he turns out to be a real cipher) and Thomas, a friend of Chris's who's absolutely fucking gorgeous (if you go for that rumpled angel look with the shaggy mane of hair, clear complexion, fine features, trim body, black leather jacket and black jeans).
We move to a bar called The Cafe and suddenly it's 5 after 10 and therefore 5 after 6 in the morning in England on the morning of Thursday 18 April - exactly a year since David died.
I've already explained to Chris about this so I take myself off to the outside deck and have a few moments alone talking to David.
The rest of the evening passes quickly. Thomas and the cipher leave at some point but Chris and I stay and talk and talk. I think that what I am liking most about the journey I am on is that it is more about being among people than watching objects in official buildings.
Chris comes back to the apartment and stays the night.