We woke up early to make sure we got around to the Segway tour place early enough for them, but it turns out they like to sleep in 
After a short walk along the waterfront to kill time we spotted an older guy swimming, which we’d assume would be suicidal in this sort of weather – but later on somebody pointed out that he’d just be training for the annual swim to Alcatraz. I can think of a few things I’d rather do than race in near freezing treacherous water, but even a last-place under your belt would be a major accomplishment to say the least.
Once they’d mopped up the water on the test course (techspeak for the carpark) they gave us our orientation and made us do some fun emergency breaking and run some obstacle courses. They really are so simple and natural to use – I really expected to have to concentrate while on it, but after a good five minutes I didn’t even have to worry about standing still. Standing still really seems to be the most difficult thing to master, because they’re so sensitive, but the other two members of our party seemed to have a small issue with steering. One of the two, Paula, actually turned out to be an Aussie from Canberra traveling to visit relatives in NY.
For the first half hour after we departed, for some reason whenever I wanted to slow down I’d twist my left hand clockwise (who know’s why) which turns you right. After I got over that strangeness, it was completely and utterly natural. Which, our guide pointed out, is where people get into trouble. Small potholes and changes in terrain are fine (you use your legs to brace them, another natural instinct) but where most people come unstuck is when they decide to put one wheel well below the other. Usual causes are dropping one down the curb, into the curb, into a pothole, over a downed-branch, etc. etc.
After stopping for a awesome half-hour where we had free reign over a large wharf (aside from quarreling hobos, but you can’t have everything) we got back in formation and had a nice trip through coastal San Francisco. Our guide throughout was funny and a smart-arse, which for us Aussies is just like being home.
We reluctantly returned back to base (we all dragged our heels on the way back) and hung our helmets. We could have all spent another three hours, but after jumping off for the final time our legs told us that would be enough for today. We said our goodbyes (Hi Paula!) and made our way slowly through the fish markets and restaurants on our way to Pier 41.
I don’t know how but the seagulls here as as big as chickens, and they are a little unsettling in a giant animal sorta way. Everybody but us are completely indifferent to these eagle-gulls, but I wasn’t about to let one of them take any digit of mine. Keeping the gulls in sight, we boarded the ferry to Alcatraz Island.
Because I took so many photos on Alcatraz I won’t go into it much; I’ll write a photo essay once I get home. I will say that it was easily just as good as the Segway ride, and one of those things that everybody should do at least once.
After getting back to the hotel, I was not only buggered from the big day (my legs still reminded me of the Segway) but I also felt a little off, so I decided to grab a quick bite to eat and retire for the night. When I woke up in the morning, I felt a little odd, and once I made it to the mirror I realised I was in trouble. A quick visit to Dr. Savage confirmed my fears; I’d somehow caught Chickenpox sometime in the last seven to fourteen days.
I’ve no idea how I managed to dodge it until now, but I can say with confidence I wish I’d already had it, as it basically ended all of the San Francisco leg of my holiday. I was already at the stage where I wasn’t completely contagious, but I had no impulse to make any unnessessary movements. To my eternal luck though, I had no fever or prior sign of any kind, I just woke up with it. Due to my quick trip to a doctor, I curbed it before it got anywhere near heavy or spread over my whole body, and judging by the photos online I’m a hell of a lot luckier than most people.
I do feel sorry for people who for one reason or another can’t afford the meds to kill it off; my five minute doctors visit cost $220, the meds he gave me $50, and another med he prescribed slugged me $250. I don’t think I’ve ever paid over ten dollars per pill before, but it’s very nice to know my travel insurance covers it.
The expensive pills curb the life-cycle of the disease, so without them you get the full wrath. Instead, I get a shortened, weakened spell of the pox, with extra pills to take the sting off and a solution (which is supposedly a derivative of cocaine) that you use for very itchy spots. Without all three, I think I’d be in utter hell for a week or more, instead I was very uncomfortable for a day and a half. Now I’m only a little irritated, but I look like I have an awful case of acne with 5-10 brown ugly lumps on my face.
The worst part is; for a week or more I’ve been infecting people without even knowing it, I’ve had the breath of death. Worse still for my brother, who’s been staying in the same rooms as I for over the period in which I’ve had it; he’s never had chickenpox before.
After resting up, which basically just involved moving very little and using a lot of the good lotion (and by good I mean verygood) we took a train to Reno, which wasn’t anywhere near as picturesque as I’d hoped it to be, but it was one very smooth ride, and a nice alternative to driving or flying. We picked a sleeper cabin so we wouldn’t be in with the cattle, and everybody we spoke to (again we run into a Brisbanite) were on the train for another 50+ hours, while our trip was just under six.
We arrived at Reno, and did what you do best in Reno; absolutely nothing. By the seventeenth we have to make our way to Orlando, and now due to the snow falling outside right now we’re heading back into warmer climates. This post is possible only due to a hospital’s WIFI across the road. Who knows where the next post will be from
