We sail past the stark rock of
I can see plenty of large metal crabs but I don’t see the rainbow shop I remembered and everything seems a little more tawdry with an abundance of performance artists leaping around – many dressed as pirates in the Captain Jack Sparrow style. M and I however are drawn into a shop selling sparkly things and manage to procure a couple more glossy boxes containing shiny articles to wear down our luggage.
We get stuck in traffic in
We think we’re winding up our day in San Francisco but it turns out that our train needed to have some wheels replaced and though that was resolved fairly easily the new engine that turned up was faulty and we have an electricity-less train with no way to transport it closer to us. So plan B is that see a little more of this eclectic peninsular and then dine on some local specialities back around Fisherman’s Wharf whilst they find a way to reunite us with our train.
So we get to explore beyond the obligatory tourist stops. We meander through
Apparently the citizens of
After our extended tour we head back for Pier 39, this time past the basking sea lions and climb up to what I think was called
For main course we had a choice of seafood grill with sea bass and a lemon beurre blanc, salmon and fat shrimps or lemon chicken pasta or the infamous
The dessert was billed as chocolate mousse but was actually cake with raspberry sauce. It looked okay but really managed to taste of nothing much, oh how we have been spoilt on the train! I've been wondering all night how much of the mis en place the kitchen staff had completed before they realised they'd have no one to enjoy it. I had visions of the servers all sitting down in the dining cars being waited on by the butlers and Mark tinkling out a few show tunes on the baby grand whilst Bonnie shook up a couple of martinis in the bar car. It transpired that the evening of Baccilian delight I had envisaged was way off the mark as they were completely devoid of power so instead of whooping it up they're eating a hastily grabbed Subway in the dark, though probably basking in the glow of a demanding passenger-less train.
After our meal we thought we were heading back for the train but our coach took a detour to allow us to take some night shots of the now Twinkly Gate Bridge but this turned out to be a cunning diversion tactic to distract us from the fact that our train was being mysteriously being held hostage by the custodians of the track and was being prevented from returning to Oakland station to collect us. However believing that this would soon be resolved we headed hopefully for station.
By now we’re onto plan C, which transpired to be an extensive visit to the outer reaches of
Mark was pouring cockle-warming Kir Imperials in the