San Francisco travel diary

For the following morning we had planned a triumphal entry into the city through its most iconic bridge: the Golden Gate Bridge. Crossing the bridge we were getting closer and closer to the city... it was there and it was possible to admire it in all its splendor... you just had to turn your gaze a little more to the left and you could also glimpse Alcatraz island and the Bay Bridge. Aboard our car we literally rode the countless hills that characterized the entire city, a sort of roller coaster winding between elegant residential neighborhoods and delightful cafés. It was time to have breakfast but despite our efforts we had not managed to find the usual fast-food places and so we gave in to a traditional English breakfast of eggs, bacon, butter and jam.

With a full stomach we headed to the port, the nerve center of the city, being Sunday it was particularly crowded with street artists, families strolling and enormous sea lions stretched out in great numbers on the docks. Having picked up a map and tourist information about what the city could offer us, we headed once again in search of a hostel. As usual it was not suited to our pockets and so with heavy hearts we made that decision that deep down we already knew within ourselves: a nine-day non-stop run without ever resting our behinds on a real bed... we were turning into beasts. The location designated to spend the evening was at the very least evocative: it was Twin Peaks, the two highest hills of the city from which you can enjoy a breathtaking panorama. Just the time to take two night photos and off in search of the umpteenth parking spot.

What we still hadn't told you is that in the city of San Francisco we had found rather hostile temperatures that with the favor of darkness became particularly unmanageable. It wasn't easy but with the help of our sleeping bag and waking up from time to time in the middle of the night to turn on the car's heating, we managed to survive.

The following day I came down from the hills and, after a quick breakfast at the supermarket, we headed off to visit the city's most characteristic sights. A healthy stroll along the Golden Gate, a little visit to the Palace of Fine Arts, a quick stop downtown in the financial district, a walk through North Beach (the elegant Italian neighbourhood), the unmissable Chinatown and a few other characteristic little spots. Night fell in a flash and, as usual, we headed up to the Twin Peaks hills to spend the night; for the next day we had planned an outing along the Pacific coast as far as Santa Cruz, a small town 50 miles from San Francisco. In the middle of the night, a most unexpected wake-up call... A hand knocking on the window, a torch shining into our eyes, snatched us from Morpheus's arms; for the umpteenth time the harsh arm of the law had come down on us.

We had unconsciously forgotten the trunk open and a patrol, suspicious of our presence, had come to carry out the routine checks. Luckily, after mumbling something about our situation, the sheriff let us go back to what we had interrupted.

The road to Santa Cruz was truly spectacular: green hills on our left that dropped sheer on our right into an ocean of waves. To be honest, the route to Santa Cruz turned out to be far more interesting than the town itself. In fact, Santa Cruz is nothing more than a small town battered by wind and waves that had little to offer a passing tourist. For that reason too we decided to set off on the return journey that same evening, to get back as close as possible to San Francisco.

The following morning we had planned a visit to one of the most famous and celebrated prisons in the world: Alcatraz. And so it was; having bought our ticket, we took the first available ferry and in about 20 minutes we reached the island of imprisonment. We chose to buy an audio tour that provided valuable explanations about the events that occurred during the brief life of this fortress. We made our way among the extremely narrow cells that housed, among others, Mr Alfonso Capone. We returned to the mainland in the late afternoon and, after our last dinner on American soil, we headed to the area near the airport, where the next day we were to hand back our trusty little car and catch our flight to Mexico City.