If you break the rules you go to prison. If you break the prison rules? You go to Alcatraz.
It’s very rare that I fly out in the morning, usually they fly me out in the middle of the night and I end up getting to the hotel just in time to fall into a dead sleep. But today they flew me out exceptionally early, which landed me in San Francisco in time to actually see some of San Francisco.
I haven’t seen Munchkin or her mother in nearly three years, I met them on my very first world cruise what seems like a lifetime ago. But they live in San Francisco, so when I found out I had a day here it seemed the natural thing to do to call. They’ve never been able to come on another cruise after all (at least not yet). Munchkin is of course three years older now than she was when she threw her arms around my waist at the crew farewell, but she’s still Munchkin, and always will be.
Of course, when you have only one day in town, there’s always the question of what to do.
When I was just a kid we drove down to California to go to Disneyland, and on the way back we stopped in San Francisco. My father desperately wanted to visit Alcatraz – why I am not quite sure, but he wanted to – so there it was. I, however, did not want to. I was not a fit throwing child, but something was telling me that I didn’t want to go to this place, so I sat down in the middle of the hotel room floor and announced that I wasn’t. It took dad several years to forgive me but that’s another story.
I didn’t actually think I’d ever set foot on that cursed island. But the friends I was having lunch with today managed to get us tickets – which is really something because they’re not easy to come by (sometimes you have to book six months in advance!). And once I got there, I wasn’t really certain what to expect – but there was one thing: I was afraid. Perhaps afraid isn’t the right word, uneasy might be better.
The energy in that place is…well, it’s not quite as bad as Vietnam. But it…it’s something I can’t quite describe. Like someone – or something – was sitting on my chest. Oppressive. Thick. Like there was an underlying sense of panic oozing from the walls, I could feel it just on the edges of my perception, like something hovering there in the shadows. I think what would have been the worst in that place, if you were confined there, would be that the life you threw away would be so close – less than a mile away, and you couldn’t get there. Time, tides, the frigid waters of the San Francisco Bay, conspired against everyone who even attempted to break free of its grip.
And the cells…they are…so small. So very small. I could stand in the middle of one and touch both walls. Or at least I could have if they hadn’t been all shut of course. Except…for ‘The Hole’…we could walk into one of the solitary confinement cells in D-block. Standing in that little dark room, looking out through the barred door, listening to the voices of the audio tour saying that if you closed your eyes and concentrated you could project kind of a movie screen in your head to keep you sane while you were in there…I got, a little bit dizzy.
It felt good to get out into the clear air again; the San Francisco skyline is slightly obscured at the moment, but the summer fogs are far behind us so at least you can see your hand in front of your face!
Once back in the ‘free’ world, we needed food. So I have now acquired another Hard Rock Café martini glass (what can I say, I’m a sucker for their pomegranate martinis!).
There are certainly worse ways to spend the day before you start work…
who said I ever forgot ?? or what’s that other word you used ….humph…any pictures I’ll likely never get there ……
I went in 2007. I spent several days in SF, so it was easier to fit it into the schedule. It is quite disconcerting to come out afterwards and look across the water to the city.