Oh so happy to be home
Just in case you were wondering, I am fine and back in the country. My time in San Francisco was most enjoyable. I spent the days shopping and being a tourist and the nights eating at either fancy or highly recommended restaurants. At last I can say that there is good food to be found in the USA, but I just have to pay handsomely for it.
I purchased what I think amounts to nearly a new wardrobe. But who wouldn't when one has lost weight, and then throw into it the wacky US sizing system, which plunged my size down even further. Trust me, the ego got a good rub out of it.
The funniest things that I heard in San Francisco were from a tour bus operator and a homeless person. First example, when doing the "tourist thing" above a double decker open top bus, the guide was trying to engage the patrons by asking them where they were from. As is the case with people in these situations, everyone fell deathly quiet. To prompt everyone into action, our tour guide declared, "This isn't an existential bus trip. Everyone is from somewhere!"
Now I don't care if he uses that line every day for the next 10 years. It is piss-funny.
The second thing I heard that made me chortle was from a begging homeless man. There are an awful lot of beggars in San Francisco. More than I expected. And to stand out from the crowd, people have come up with their own spin on the begging game. Call me heartless if you will, but I don't give money to beggars. I would rather channel money into organisations that help people back on their feet, instead of giving them money directly. But I was so tempted to give one man money. He stood on the footpath proclaiming, "I am in need of some help here people. I need to get inebriated. They say honesty is the best policy, so I thought I would see how it works for me."
Champagne begging I tell you.
Otherwise, I was VERY happy to be coming home. No, I did not see Bond. We spoke on the phone a lot, but of course, true to form, he made allusions to seeing me, but it didn't happen. On landing back in Oz, we had a charming fight via phone where he called me a "psycho nut-bag".
I laughed. He hasn't seen psycho. Yet. *insert maniacal laughter here, and rubbing of hands*