Sam's Fat Disco

San Francisco, 23 October - 1 November, 2006
I have to say that despite my ambivalence to most of America (apologies to those that have to live there) I found California, and San Francisco in particular, really rather smashing fun. I guess California is a different beast to the rest of the States and San Francisco a different kettle of fish to the rest of California..to mix my metaphors tremendously. The Silicon Valley work work work ethic is tempered by a healthy antidote of work avoidance and generally loafing about by a good portion of Friscans (or whatever you call yourself if you hail from S.F.). That's more like it.

My abode for the week I was in town was St Paul's Hotel in the Beat hang out of North Beach, more like Hotel Earle in Barton Fink than Hotel Earle itself! Surprised I didn't bump into John Turturro wandering the maze of hallways and landings.

One of the aims of the trip to the city was to meet up with Baz, a dear friend and fellow Boosh obsessed idiot, who was going to be in town filming a sailing race that week. There was talk of helping him out for a pocket full of beans but like all things Bazian, that idea went Baz on me.

Here, take a squizz at some pics. (It's late and I can't be arsed to write any more).

There he is, the living legend that is Baz. Some of you may recognise him as the besuited buffoon from my farewell bash pics.

Arriving in San Francisco on a double decker train!

A wall.

If you look closely, you'll see there are some sea lions on the rocks...honest.

Cannery row for the Steinbeck fans amongst you.

Alcatraz from a distance.

Golden Gate Bridge in its traditional foggy state.

G.G.B. in its less traditional sunny state.

A beach and the sea and some rocks.

Spinning the cranks & fine vines

Leave me to my own devices long enough and bikes are going to feature, sure as eggs is eggs. Chris & Holly had a fine selection of steeds, some of them in carbon fibre (oooh), and I availed myself of them quite liberally. Holly's a real magician - on one bike ride, she turned into a winery.

The peleton cruising the Skyline.

Holly cranking up the hill.

That's me on Holly's Klein mountain bike, infact wearing one of Holly's cycle shirts. Obviously I got permission from Team Naranja management to wear another team's kit.

Christian doing some gentle spinning, Gentle style.

Fine Californian vines at in their autumnal garb. David Payne's winery, Los Gatos.

Oh look, booze. Rest assured the glasses weren't filled to the brim - just a sniff. Congratulations to Holly for taking a pic that doesn't show off Chris and my ample girth...too badly.

Me & Holly 'tasting' the fine wines. It does look a bit like Holly's glass is brim full of white wine. It wasn't. Shame.

The way home - a bit of a blur courtesy of the above wine tasting.

Goat Mountain 2

Wow, look at that, another tribute to the venue of the annual cricket game. OK, so it's Goat Rock rather than Goat Mountain but it's close enough.

Hiking the Skyline

Hikey, hikey, hikey. Here are some snaps of the buena vistas around Los Gatos taken when Chris, Holly and I did a hike off the ridge near where they live called Skyline, I guess because for a lot of people looking up at the mountains, it makes up...the Skyline. Cunning.

This is Vera's tree or something like that. Not sure who Vera was or why she lay claim to this old tree but hey, I don't make up the rules. Jolly nice. If you look carefully you can see a small bearded man smoking a pipe whilst stroking an iguana. Yeah, really.

The hike involved scrambling over some boulders and bending over showing your arse. Well, it did for Holly anyway. If she sees this picture, she will in all probability kill me but it made me laugh anyway.

Here's a picture of me looking like a gnome (a particularly gay gnome at that) but the view's good.

Trees, trees and more trees, as far as the eye can see.

Ooh look, there's a surprise more trees.

Tree house

Miraculously I caught my plane to San Francisco without incident. Just as miraculously Christian Gentle (a better name you couldn't wish to have apart from perhaps Verian L'Amour although for a bloke that would be a bit suss) was waiting for me at San Francisco airport. After a few unplanned tours of the spaghetti style highways curling around the airport we headed for Los Gatos south of the city and up into the mountains to their tree house. Here's some snaps.

Not a bad view from your living room window!

The deck (or veranda as I'd call it). Ideal for sundowners.

Holly adopting a pretty good Brucie teapot.

Chris & Holly lounging in the...lounge. Was mucking about with my camera to see what sepia was

like. This is what it's like.

Chris and me on the deck, sunsetting behind. Now I'm no prize winner on the sartorial elegance front but judging by the gopping shirt, something tells me Chris has spent too much time in the USA. Get a grip man!



No idea what Holly was making here but she looks pretty chuffed with the results. Well done.



I think these may have been involved..not sure.

Of course no tree house is complete without a massive games room and antique pool table. Here Chris is getting into the Wild West theme with his gunslinger stance. I had been cheating and was to be taught a lesson! Terrific.



Another view from the deck - sun sinking below distant mountains into the 'V' of the Pacific. Whaaaat--everrrr!

The San Fran Plan

I like to plan things thoroughly. However my definition of thoroughly deviates from the Oxford English Dictionary definition in that it means:

'To give some thought to your actions at some point usually just before standing still staring at the fast approaching lights becomes dangerous or after something has gone critically wrong.'

After all, planning with hindsight is a lot better as you have the benefit of hindsight, which everyone wishes they had when they were planning ahead of the 'event'. Logic, see.

So The Plan. Well, it's much the same as the rest of the trip really. Press on and see what happens. That said, there's some people I know in San Francisco (Christian Gentle & Holly and Helen & Stuart Kibby) where I can cadge board and lodging. Also, by chance, my dear friend Baz is going to be showing his giant mooning face in town 'at some point' on some work gambit so there's an opportunity to give him a karate chop in the head. Jot all this down on the back of an envelope et voila - THE PLAN.

Coming soon - Phase III - San Francisco

Well, that's Mexico done. Many thanks to all those 'fans' who have been emailing and posting comments, sometimes even with nice things to say rather than the more common abuse.

As someone asked me (or perhaps it was the voices again) here's the main music that has formed the sound track to the Mexican adventure (playlist titled Mexico Gold):

David Bowie - Hunky Dory (classic)
Bran Van 3000 - Discosis (old skool)
Headland - Touchy Feely (warning: can feature children in song)
Xploding Plastix - Amateur Girlfriends (weird but strangely addictive)
Cocteau Twins - Blue Bell Knoll (for those drifting off moments)
The Egg - Albumen (pre Hotel California margarita nights)

Tracks or albums that I wish I had:

Crosby Stills Nash (and Young) - any
Lloyd Cole - Rattlesnakes
Bill Withers - any
Car Stereo Wars - Broken
Sean Paul - Glue

And whilst I'm at it, here's the reading material I've got through so far:

A Land of Two Halves - Joe Bennett (great background to NZ, many thanks Claire, it's now residing in a 2nd hand bookshop in San Francisco)
English Passengers - Matthew Kneale (you don't have to be Manx to like it)
Love in the Time of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez (marvellous and two bonus mentions of the 'fragrant garden' on taking a leak after eating asparagus)
Dracula - Bram Stoker (bloody good read...ho ho...)
The Book of Modern Coin Magic - Bobo (ongoing and not making much headway)

Don't forget the daily knee bends everyone!

Hasta Luego Mexico

It's been a blast but it's time to move on and bid you farewell. Here's some parting shots (so to speak). I'll remember you always. Promise you'll write. Don't forget me. I'll wait for you. Keep a candle burning in the window 'til I return. [Errr, that's enough - Ed.]

Lake Chapala, many cactus, Team Naranja Bus, vines (I think growing peppers).

Me cutting up the rough on bike, boat, memorial to Old Gregg.




Avenida, taxis (wow), Jim Morrison memorial rock, some building.



Lighting candles at a birthday BBQ Jim's daughter, Gabriella, invited me to.

Hector the Hair

Whilst staying at Jim's on my return leg, I went out to see a band at a bar in Ajijic called La Barca. Met this couple of fools, one had a lot of hair. He was called Hector. That made me laugh, man - Hector the Hair (apologies to those too young to get the gag. Can't think who they'd be as the only people reading this are probably Mum and my probation officer...hello Mrs Goringe!).

The band was extremely funky with a DJ and horn section. Wouldn't have been out of place in some ubercool Hoxton Square joint. Fortunately Hector brought things down to earth - idiot!

The rainy season - no one told ME

Landing in Guadalajara I was greeted by the most stormy wet weather imaginable. After I took the bus from the airport into the backstreets of Guadalajara (naturally I was looking for the bus station but overshot considerably) the heavens opened in spectacular style complete with simultaneous thunder and lightning, the sort that would make a lesser man soil his trousers. Naturally I was too busy changing my trousers to take some snaps of the streets that became rivers in seconds. You'll have to take my word for it though, water was up to the wheel arches of cars and coming in the foot well of the bus.

Here's some less dramatic pics of the rain taken at Tio Jim's.