left my heart (and luggage) in san francisco, pt. 2

I've had a few days to relax after my quick NorCal trip and am anxious to go back. Mostly because I'm hungry for Saha, but also because I am already tired of LA driving... again. Here's a sad thing: not only am I not-so-great at driving (more because of a lack of patience rather than lack of coordination), but I'm not-so-great at public transit, too. Even though I used to live in the Bay Area, I never really took BART and I failed royally at it last weekend.

To get from Palo Alto to Berkeley without a car, you either have to be super in-shape to walk and swim the 40 miles across the bay, or you need to take the CalTrain and BART. I, being the ever-so-savvy Hawaii girl-turned Angeleno, felt the latter was the easier, hipper, and certainly more metropolitan choice. After a nice lunch with a friend in Palo Alto, I hopped on the CalTrain towards Millbrae. Not so tough, right? Wrong. Imagine me, wrangling a gigantic backpack (turtle girl!!) a gigantic purse, and a gigantic carry-on through the teeny upper-level aisles of the train. As I finally made it to a chair and squished in with my three large bags, I wondered if anyone could see me hiding beneath them. At the Millbrae stop, I hopped off and bought my BART ticket. But, there were no signs directing me which train to take to get to Berkeley. I hopped on the sole train there, figuring it would eventually take me where I needed to go. Map says Dublin/Pleasanton train to Richmond train which stops at Ashby... Cool. I'm on the right track, I've got it figured out. As the train started pulling out of the stop, a voice crackled over the loudspeaker. "This train going to San Francisco. Next stop is your transfer to the Richmond Train to East Bay." Wait, what? I thought that was at least four stops from here! No sooner had I decided the conductor was probably right, the train pulled into the next stop. Ok! Grab your backpack, catch the next train, let's go! As I sprinted up the stairs looking for the other platform (wait! there's no other platform??) I realized that my bags weren't nearly as heavy. I only had one of them. QUICK! I ran back down to the platform, right in time to see the train-- and my luggage-- disappear into the tunnel towards San Francisco.

Needless to say, I was freaking out. I searched frantically for a BART employee, but no one was to be found. No one, that is, until I found Maria. I could barely see her behind the large swivel chair and pulled-low-over-her-eyes hat in the info booth. As she turned around to acknowledge me, I could tell I was in good hands. "Bags…on train…my luggage…everything!" The words came tumbling out as I motioned with my arm towards San Francisco. "My bags are on the train that just left!" She calmed me down, checked the schedule, and phoned to the next stop. After a couple minutes, we got the call back that when the train arrived at the next station they would go down and have someone search it to see if they could find my bag. After what seemed like hours, the phone rang again. They had it! All I had to do was get on the next train to Daly City and pick it up. Maria walked me down to the platform, and when the next train arrived, the conductor, Mike, leaned out of the window. Maria explained everything to Mike, and together they promised I’d finally get to where I was going—with all my bags, too.

At Daly City, I got off the train and met up with Andrea, who searched the train and saved my bag from its unaccompanied trip to San Francisco. Maria, Mike and Andrea, if you are reading this— a big hug and THANK YOU!! Your kindness truly made my trip memorable.

My heroes:



So, after all of that, you’d think I’d have a smooth trip to Berkeley, right? Almost. I texted my friend Adrianne to let her know why I was delayed, and she said just to get off the BART, she’d meet me at Civic Center in SF. That sounded good to me—I was a bit overwhelmed by BART at that point. But then—of course—I didn’t realize Civic Center was the next stop. As I rushed to exit the train (with all my bags, thank goodness,) it dawned on me that Civic Center was probably not where I wanted to wait. Strip clubs and liquor stores lined Market Street, and there didn’t seem to be any place for me to sit that wasn’t intruding on someone’s “home.” I could feel eyes following me and my three gigantic bags as I walked through the open courtyard and decided, very quickly, that I’d just get take the train to Berkeley—it would be safer than waiting. Back on the train, I was relieved but also incredulous that it could take me almost four hours to get forty miles. I might have done better walking!

The rest of the trip went by much too quickly. Burgers and beer at Raleigh's, thrift-store shopping, and drinks and a game of Pictionary at Albatross. A fun night, and I wish I could have stayed longer. Next time I’m in the area, I’m going to go to a show at 924 Gilman Street, the legendary East Bay punk rock venue. Green Day played there before they “sold out,” and so have my favorites Fugazi, Rancid, Bad Religion, The Dead Kennedys… *sigh*. I heart punk rock!


Here’s Adrianne outside Rasputin Music:




And some pretty cherry blossoms in Palo Alto: