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Happy as a pig
I get so worried about these things. I spend the night before I travel worrying that I've forgotten something, something that's going to be hideously expensive or embarrassing. Left the passport behind, or forgotten the laptop charger, or misread the date on the ticket.
In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, everything usually works out swimmingly. I won't say I'm a seasoned traveller now, but I manage to get myself reasonably organised.
At the moment I'm sitting in a ringside seat at San Francisco, watching operations on the twin runways, laptop charging up, connected via T-Mobile, plenty of time before boarding, everything I need in my carry on bag, just enough US dollars to buy a cuppa at LAX. I've even got a bottle for water to drink on the long flight home.
I only had a couple of things to do this morning. First was to pack my bags. I released enough books here that I had a bit of slack to be filled up with books from the common room bookshelf. So I sat on the floor of my dorm and shuffled everything around until everything all zipped up, then stuck them in the luggage room, my backpack in a locker and set off for the Palace of Fine Arts.
Released a book along the way http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/822006 and thought I'd check out the piers. Saw a sign saying "Book shop". Ooooooh. Altered my course to check it out. As one does. Turned out to be a library discard shop selling donated books. Oooooh. The selection made my mouth water. Couple of customers leaving in a tizzy, exulting to each other over their purchases. "People come from all over the world to buy the books," I said.
"We can tell," they smiled.
Oooooh, but there were so many books. I could have bought a dozen, but I'd left my credit and debit cards locked up at the hostel. Bought a couple for Bookczuk - couldn't resist, and I knew she'd be disappointed if all there was in the package was Tim-Tams.
Bay Books, if anyone's interested. The young lady behind the counter pointed me towards a nearby post office - a good thing, because my map told me the nearest was in the Presidio - and she put them in a fixed price box while I wrote out the address and a quick note.
No time for BCIDs, but I've fixed that now. One of the books is one of my all-time favorites - a quirky tale about spies and codes and books and bureaucracy told in an engaging and witty style. The tale of how Leo Marks made sure that his young lady coders didn't do any critical work on their "off" days is a scream. As is a lot of the rest of the book. It's one of those rare books that make you laugh and cry in the same breath. I love it.
The Palace of Fine Arts looked mighty impressive when I reached it. A great dome and a collonade that looked like it came from Dinotopia, or Babar's Celesteville. Awesome with white swans. http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/2220567
But it was all a sham. There was no art gallery. Just a hands-on science centre for schoolkids, much like Questacon in Canberra. Fascinating, but not the collection of old masters I craved.
Oh well. I enjoyed the old stone. Fragments of a much larger building erected for the 1915 Exposition - it must have been an awesome sight, because the tiny fraction remaining is eye-popping.
Then back to the hostel to have lunch and connect with my shuttle. If I'd really scarpered I could have retrieved my plastic and bought a few more books - including a copy of Coddington's epic book on Gettysburg for $15, but I chose to make release notes and chat on the forums and catch up with LJ. You know how it is.
Besides, my left knee is feeling a bit dodgy, and I wasn't sure I wanted to walk another kilometre down and up the hill.
Packed up, got the shuttle, dropped at SFO and here I am. Let's see if there's a hotspot in LAX where I have an hour or so.
In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, everything usually works out swimmingly. I won't say I'm a seasoned traveller now, but I manage to get myself reasonably organised.
At the moment I'm sitting in a ringside seat at San Francisco, watching operations on the twin runways, laptop charging up, connected via T-Mobile, plenty of time before boarding, everything I need in my carry on bag, just enough US dollars to buy a cuppa at LAX. I've even got a bottle for water to drink on the long flight home.
I only had a couple of things to do this morning. First was to pack my bags. I released enough books here that I had a bit of slack to be filled up with books from the common room bookshelf. So I sat on the floor of my dorm and shuffled everything around until everything all zipped up, then stuck them in the luggage room, my backpack in a locker and set off for the Palace of Fine Arts.
Released a book along the way http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/822006 and thought I'd check out the piers. Saw a sign saying "Book shop". Ooooooh. Altered my course to check it out. As one does. Turned out to be a library discard shop selling donated books. Oooooh. The selection made my mouth water. Couple of customers leaving in a tizzy, exulting to each other over their purchases. "People come from all over the world to buy the books," I said.
"We can tell," they smiled.
Oooooh, but there were so many books. I could have bought a dozen, but I'd left my credit and debit cards locked up at the hostel. Bought a couple for Bookczuk - couldn't resist, and I knew she'd be disappointed if all there was in the package was Tim-Tams.
Bay Books, if anyone's interested. The young lady behind the counter pointed me towards a nearby post office - a good thing, because my map told me the nearest was in the Presidio - and she put them in a fixed price box while I wrote out the address and a quick note.
No time for BCIDs, but I've fixed that now. One of the books is one of my all-time favorites - a quirky tale about spies and codes and books and bureaucracy told in an engaging and witty style. The tale of how Leo Marks made sure that his young lady coders didn't do any critical work on their "off" days is a scream. As is a lot of the rest of the book. It's one of those rare books that make you laugh and cry in the same breath. I love it.
The Palace of Fine Arts looked mighty impressive when I reached it. A great dome and a collonade that looked like it came from Dinotopia, or Babar's Celesteville. Awesome with white swans. http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/2220567
But it was all a sham. There was no art gallery. Just a hands-on science centre for schoolkids, much like Questacon in Canberra. Fascinating, but not the collection of old masters I craved.
Oh well. I enjoyed the old stone. Fragments of a much larger building erected for the 1915 Exposition - it must have been an awesome sight, because the tiny fraction remaining is eye-popping.
Then back to the hostel to have lunch and connect with my shuttle. If I'd really scarpered I could have retrieved my plastic and bought a few more books - including a copy of Coddington's epic book on Gettysburg for $15, but I chose to make release notes and chat on the forums and catch up with LJ. You know how it is.
Besides, my left knee is feeling a bit dodgy, and I wasn't sure I wanted to walk another kilometre down and up the hill.
Packed up, got the shuttle, dropped at SFO and here I am. Let's see if there's a hotspot in LAX where I have an hour or so.
no subject
LAX didn't have a hotspot when I was there last month. And the Qantas flight left from the very deserted feeling Tom Bradley International Terminal. There may be WiFi in the American Airlines Admiral's Club. I was reduced to GPRS on my mobile phone while there.
no subject
We saw the Palace from the bus and went "What the *** is that..!" and got off to look. We also were disappointed that in a way it was just a shell. It looked so incongruous.
I remember laughing hysterically as a group when the bus decompressed its hydraulics with a loud, whining sound like a huge fart. It was just as if, rid of its passengers, it wanted to chill out and relax.
no subject