Get a small amount of snooze between maybe 02:00 and 06:00. I feel OK though - I don't feel jet-lagged, or time poisoned at all.
I watch the rest of unpro Fridays I snoozed through - fucking Mario maker again. Goddamit.
I go for a brief walk outside. Had to pick through a whole bunch of worn clothes to try and identify the least stinky ones makes me feel like subhuman trash. Top priority in SF is going to be laundry.
It looks like this hotel really does cover a large acreage. All the buildings are only three storeys high or so, so the hotel sprawls out. Nonetheless there is nice land around it - a nice little lake. Take a pano again. I also notice the hotel has these weird sort of fins between rooms, I assume to try and defeat the noise.
Although I've got ages to the flight I get bored in the hotel so decide to check out, if anything just to score some food.
Checkout is fine - I see the internet shows a zero dollar charge, so that's cool. I use the hotel provided shuttle bus to go over to the airport. I don't see any pavements, so I'm not convinced you can walk there even if you want to.
I get in the airport, through security and everything just fine. Also oddly the security check of my baggage at Brum was much more thorough. Here the guy says leave all your electronics in your bag, just indicate that 'yes there is a laptop' but you don't need to take it out. I take a ride on the weird bus again, which has to negotiate traffic of taxiing planes to get to the departure terminal. I plonk myself down - nearly six hours to wait for a six hour flight. It's going to be a long day.
Amazingly the neck pillow saves my life as it is just about good enough to lie down on the chairs at the airport and grab some snooze. The time goes past fairly quickly - I wander off to get a coffee and some munch, and then it's time to board. Because its a domestic flight, no ID needed at the gate. It's a small plane run by United, and I'm jammed in to a tiny seat near the back of the plane. No matter how much I try I simply cannot get my feet under the seat in from, my legs are just too long and have bones in them, so I have to sit with my legs apart. This means the woman in the seat next to me bangs my kneecap with a metal arm every time she lowers her tray and I squeal in pain each time she does it. She doesn't learn and does this five or six times. Infuriating. She has this Dell laptop with her which is bloody massive, but it looks like she's gunked it up with malware so bad that when it boots up to the Win 10 lock screen, she jams on the keyboard and mouse pad furiously but Windows never gives her the chance to login, it just sits there resolute. Good, fuck her.
Again no joy sleeping on the plane, even with the neck pillow. I would help if I can get into some sort of reasonably comfortable position. Maybe I should spring for the upgraded legroom or comfort class on the way back. 6 hours of contortion is not great. They want a fortune for the upgrade privilege, but I think it maybe worth it.
Most of the flight I've got the window closed because the unfiltered sun on my neck pillow causes it to heat up greatly, but when I finally give up on snooze about four hours in, I notice I've got a cellphone signal on my iPad, which is weird, we must be quite low. I crack the window and the view is incredible. We're over a desert, I can see mountains topped with snow, sand dunes and salt lakes for a mind boggling distance. I don't think I've ever actually seen a desert before, unless you count the moon. I suddenly get a stab of homesickness hit me - I feel like I'm a really, really long way from home, but I manage to suppress that feeling - everything is going to be fine, and if it's not, there's no point worrying.
We fly in over some water to SF, but its too dark to make much of anything out. As I'm in the back, it takes forever to get off the plane, and I'm in a fairly foul mood by this point - I just want to check in and hit the sack - I need to recharge my 'goodwill to the rest of mankind' batteries as they are thoroughly depleted. Good job I didn't have to check any luggage, I can just roll out of the airport. Maybe being stinky is not so bad after all.
SFO is quite a surprising airport - firstly there's no check of any kind, I just walk off the plane and out the door. The airport is clearly very old - maybe sixties or seventies and it smells musty. I quickly get to the BART, buy a ticket, roll to the platform and a train is waiting just about to depart - dream.
I can't help but think about Brad always complaining about the BART as I ride it. It is also ancient, like the airport. It's really noisy as it grinds along the rails and inside its like one of those awful avocado bathrooms. Two different vagrants patrol the car - they are really disturbing - it's not just that they are clearly homeless and begging for some money, but they are so obviously deeply mentally ill. They hold cards explaining their condition, and you can see from the way they move and jabber they're like the walking dead. I see the locals' way of dealing with them is a complete blanking - not even a 'sorry, no' but just do not look up from your iPhone at all. I feel terrible doing it, but then it seems like this is the American way.
I get off at Embarcadero station. Just need to get to ground level, determine North and the hotel should not be far away. I get outside and the hotel is literally right in front of me with a giant illuminated sign. This is going so well.
So I thought the endless long corridors of the Dulles hotel was something, but this is an order of magnitude bigger. Inside the hotel is absolutely massive.
I get checked in - dude offers me a 16th floor room with breakfast for an extra 40 bones a night. It's tempting, but I decline. I get to the room and the blasted swipe card doesn't work. I have to go back to the desk and get another one, but after that I'm in.
All the above pictures are taken the next morning, but at night the buildings all light up and its really quite arresting. Anyway, I need food, and I have to get some clean clothes. I investigate the laundry service, but they want insane money - $62 to wash the lot. Decide I'd be better off just doing it in a sink. I google a supermarket and it says there is a Safeway 38 mins drive away! Looking at the map I figure that the algorithm has called this one wrong, it looks like a short walk, so I set off to grab some supplies.
Safeway is indeed a 5 minute walk away - I get munch, drink and washing detergent. Prices in SF are off the chart - the bill is $50 and I really did not buy very much at all. Anyway, I get back to the hotel and go for a real good snooze.