Without seeking it out we fell upon the Lombard streets curiosity, the road twirling through planters. Then finally we started the descent to the other side of the bay. The clunk of ball on bat, drew us to what I thought was a baseball game, but was later informed by Dylan was softball, oh well whilst not the “American Game” it was an American game. Customary Sunday sport in the park, people joined together in chants and cheers for their team as each man stepped up to bat.

As lunch approached Dylan surprised me with a glorious park for picnic. A temple like stone building, from the pages of a Greek epic surrounded by a lake. We feasted on pastries we had gleaned from the buffet breakfast (just so Dylan’s dad could be reassured he got his money’s worth of course) and watched people slowly stream by.

The onto the beach and our first view of the famed Golden Gate. By now a fog had begun to amass from the north and everything became as if viewed through gauze.Time was slipping away, we had to get back across town to Pier 40 to collect some hire bikes for an adventure. We began to run, along the coast through swathes of hot pink pigsface and into a forest of pine. 40 minutes in we had admitted defeat, 6 was looming and we were an hour way, then a bus wooshed past. We emptied our pockets, $1 short of a fare, and there was a little convenience store with an atm before us. Cash out, a coconut water and ice cream and we on our way. As sun began setting on San Francisco Bay Dylan began the task of teaching me how to ride like a cyclotourist not a commuter with a basket full of flowers and a baguette in the back. It should be an interesting week on the road.

We inched up the climb with our pack and feeling like dirty urchins entered the lobby of our hotel, two nights a Christmas gift from Dylan’s father. After perusing the dress code of the hotel restaurant, we decided it better to wander the city in search of a meal. It was that time in the evening where the city glows, illuminating a random person or rubbish bin and elevating them to the divine. A walk at sea level allowed us to truly absorb the sheer height of city rising up from the wharf. A large bird stood in the middle of a empty lot “looking for his car” Dylan said, then off he sprinted to get some kms, leaving me to my favourite sport of trying to capture humans in their candid moments unseen. Once we reunited, we rounded the bend to Fisherman’s wharf and in the disguise of tourist you can take a photo of anyone and everyone unquestioned. It was like a non stop carnival, elevated from the gaudiness of cardboard thin facade to magic by the sheer amount of activity. Carousel horses bobbed past, a girl bounced into the air and magical started gathering a crowd. We broke through the mass for a view of the infamous Alcatraz, then as we turned toward the platforms where sea lions laze in the sun a man walked past with two iguanas on his head, it was no street act, he was just on a stroll. We could here exclamations from uncensored children as he strode into the crowd, necks flicking back in double takes until he was out of sight.

Enough excitement had we sought out dinner before returning exhausted to the luxury of a warm bath, a white robe and a hotel bed with five spare pillows.