San Francisco: Day 1

This was my first time flying by myself. After a third run-down of exactly what I was supposed to do before my flight, I nervously walked through the doors into the bustle and chaos that is LAX. For someone who gets as easily distracted by watching and is in a very unfamiliar situation (as I was), this has the potential to be very dangerous. But obviously I survived, I'm writing this aren't I?

I got a window seat on the plane - my number one goal of my flying experience - so I was a pretty happy camper. We took off over the ocean and I remembered how much I love flying (it's been about 5 years since the last time I was on a plane). I don't get any fear out of it, I still get the thrill of the take-off and the landing, and I adore the changes in perspective. It's unbelievable to see the ocean and all it's expansiveness from a plane; it's an entirely different feel from the shoreline strain to follow the horizon. It took five minutes to get from LA to Ventura, I only know this because I could follow the patterns of the familiar coastline and I could spot the Ventura pier extending into the ocean. An hour and fifteen minutes of driving time was the equivalent of 5 minutes of flying time...that's really freaking fast! Not to mention how high we were - I saw the tops of clouds instead of the underside, covering the coastline for miles. Big change in perspective. We flew over mountains and mountains; land that was completely uninhabited and natural. It was breathtakingly beautiful, not to be cliche. There really is no other way to describe it.

And then, before I knew it, we were touching down in San Francisco. I met Trevor out past security and was introduced to the hustle and the ways of the city immediately as we trekked up stairs and navigated our way onto the BART - Bay Area Rapid Transit. This was my first subway ride as well (note: this trip had a lot of "firsts" for me, so get used to the phrase) and I think the fact that it was night time and pretty laid back made it a bit easier of an adjustment. I didn't have to deal with the crowds of people that so often pack into the subway...yet. We caught up with each other on the 40 minute BART ride to the Ashby station where Trevor's brother would be picking us up to go to his house for dinner. There weren't a lot of people riding, a few homeless people asleep on seat sections and some single riders minding their own business. A pair of ladies got on at one stop with shopping bags, gossiping about the usual topics. We talked, changing our volume according to the noise level of the barreling subway, we stopped talking altogether when we crossed under the bay; it was so loud we would have been yelling at each other to be heard.

At Justin and Leah's house we played with little Bonzai the cat while they made dinner. They live in a typical style house for the San Francisco area, even though they are across the bay. Steps lead up to four door ways, leading to different flats of the same building. They made us pineapple and shrimp pad thai, the first of many new foods I would be trying over the next four days, and I actually really enjoyed it! We also had a salad of cucumbers and tomatoes with a little cheese and a light dressing, which I liked despite my usual hatred of tomatoes. We discussed food, told stories, talked about the news, and did a lot of laughing. We talked about where we should go the following day, but at that point, all the places that were suggested were nothing but names to me; I had no associations.

We took Justin's truck back to the building that Trevor rents his room in. The whole building is owned by an 80-year-old woman named Audrey, and she rented the bottom floor of her blue house to Trevor. It had a bathroom, a couple of closets, a kitchenette, and a living space with a window over looking Twin Peaks (more on that later). Trevor has abandoned the idea of using a bed after experiencing back pain, so he sleeps on a bed pad with a bunch of blankets on the floor. I slept the same way for my stay, and even though I was so tired every night I probably could have slept on a bed of rocks, I'd say it was pretty comfortable. No better or worse than a bed at least.

I loved his apartment - it was the perfect size for one person to live in simply, but it was also an acceptable place to have people come visit without feeling overly crowded. It was small, but I really liked the whole idea of it. I would later gain an even better appreciation for the quietness and seclusion it offered as a break from the city life.

We went to bed that night with plans to wake up at 7:30 to start our day, beginning at the Farmer's Market.