The second day of GB Transplant Athlete on Tour (GBTAOT – see what I did there?) started a little earlier for one of us than the other. Yes Mr ‘Jetlag doesn’t affect me’ Wiltshire, I’m looking at you! While Gareth was up and watching Netflix from about 2.30am, I managed a rather sweaty sleep until around 6.30am. With shared bathrooms in our hotel, mornings resembled a university’s hall of residence – though I don’t know if it was entirely necessary for one man from another room to be stumbling around the corridors in just his pants!
We had tickets for the first crossing over to Alcatraz at 8.45am, and though originally were going to miss out this classic San Fran tourist attraction when still back at the planning stage, I’m glad we didn’t, and found the tour of the prisoner’s cells fascinating and harrowing in equal measure. The audio tour kept the crowds flowing along nicely, and we were done, dusted, and back on the boat to the mainland by 11am.
Once back at Pier 33, we walked around Fisherman’s Wharf to Pier 39, which resembled Cardiff Bay on steroids…with sea lions thrown in for good measure. Although pretty peckish by this time, we avoided the tourist trap restaurants and after walking around the pier for about half an hour, headed to eight AM – a small brunch spot just down from Fisherman’s Wharf that I’d seen recommended online. Although hot and stuffy inside the restaurant (a repeating theme of our first 24 hours in the city), our omelette was super tasty, and one portion was more than enough for us both to share.
Walking back to our hotel for a mid afternoon nap, we diverted to Lombard Street to ogle at the windy road that snakes down from Hyde Street to Leavenworth Street. We weren’t alone, and this surprising tourist attraction requires 4 traffic officers (2 at the bottom and 2 at the top) to keep traffic flowing and photo-taking pedestrians safe from cars.
Dinner was at The Progress, where courses were brought out in random order and designed for sharing. One of the city’s best rated restaurants didn’t disappoint, and we sampled cucumber and trout salad, quail egg roti, chickpea dumplings and chicken meatballs.
Still persevering with public transport, and with our outbound bus tickets still (apparently) good for the return leg back to our hotel, we contemplated heading out to a bar for all of 10 seconds. Before deciding that although jet lag has not quite beaten us, it’s probably time for bed. Because 8.30pm is definitely bed time. Nothing to do with jet lag. What jet lag? zzzzzzzzz………