Getting out of San Francisco

I got up nice and early so that I could have a good start. My speedo wasn't working, which seemed odd, perhaps it was damaged in transit, at least it wasn't anything serious. I had to find a cycle shop, which wasn't too difficult, the problem was they didn't open until 11.00am. I had to hag around for four hours. I went for some breakfast in quite a nice district, even though it looked rough. I had breakfast outside so that I cold keep an eye on my bike. The guy who served me was interested in what I was doing but thought I was a little mad...that happened a lot today.
After breakfast I still had loads of time until the shop opened. I went for a coffee in another part of the area. As I was waiting I could See an old guy looking at my bike...I thought he wanted to steal it, but he looked too frail. I would have probably had to help him cog on...I've got that thought in my head now...go away horrible image.
As I sat and drank my coffee he approached and asked if my cycle was English. I told him it was. It turns out he's a admirer of English cycles and knew Dawes well...I suppose it beats train spotting....sorry Phil. We chatted for ages and he complimented me on my cycle, cheers Dawes, you have a new fan. He thought what I was doing was fantastic and he said he was jealous. He was a real character and I could have talked to him for ages. However the shop beckoned. All the bike shops I've been into over the lat couple of days absolutly love my panners, they've got nothing like them here. Cheers The Bike Factory.
I bought a new speedo, quite expensive but I need it. I bought a pole for my flags, I look very 'British Explorerish' now... and everyone I spoke to loved it.
Getting out of San Francisco is really hard...if you are on a bike. You can't travel on the highways.I was going to get the ferry the Oakland,so I didn't have to go right round the bay, but I thought that was cheating so I cycled over the Golden Gate Bridge and continued north, and West, then North again. In fact I went all over the place. As I cycled through the city there were even more nutters than I'd previously seen. One black guy stood in the road of an incredibly busy street shooting an imaginary machine gun at traffic, sound effects as well. The traffic stopped so as not to knock him down. I would have been there still but I think he ran out of imaginary ammunition...bizarre. Cycling through the city is an interesting experience. Try to imagine cycling through Manchester with your eyes closed...that's what its like. Motorists there seem to like peeping their horns...especially at me. I suppose I'll have to get used to that driving on the other side of the road...I will get better honest....or die trying.
I lost one of my gloves. I was going to wear just one but I felt like a white Michael Jackson...well you know what I mean. He's whiter than me nowadays. I asked four girls to take my picture near the Golden Gate Bridge. I didn't particularly ask them because they were girls, they just happened to be walking by. Do you remember when your mum talked about you to her friend, neighbour or the doctor as if you are not there. There were the same. I'm not going to tell you what they said but I was really embarrassed, cute came up again...what is it about the Americans...everyone is cute...perhaps its the accent.
I was shown directions by many people today, some better than others. I had a map but it was very local. I need to expand the map. Two guys very kindly cycled with me to show me which way to go, which was very much appreciated. I eventually got to Petaluma, after having to trace my steps about four times. There is nothing worse than having to cycle back up a very steep hill. As I entered the town I asked a young guy of about nineteen or twenty the way to a cheap motel. I wanted to use the internet. It turned out that his mother was from Warrington. He was born there but moved to the states when very young. It's a small world isn't it. He said that his mothers accent was just like mine.
I found it really frustrating today. There were so many hills, which isn't a problem but when you go the wrong way it's really hard cycle up the hill once more. There were a couple that were very steep and I could only do about three to four miles an hour. The hills were three miles to six miles long. It took me forever to get up them....to be honest I felt quite chuffed that I did just over 70 miles today, especially after my late start. I did it in just over seven hours. I know ten miles an hour isn't very fast....but those hills took it out of me. There were a few cyclists who said I wouldn't get to Petaluma in time...but I did. I'm not fast, or particularly strong but I'm a stubborn sod. I fell off my bike at the Golden Gate Bridge, or just before. My pannier caught the kirb as I stopped to dismount. I had my left foot ready for the dismount but the impact through me over the other way. I went down like a bag of sh*t. Have you seen the rugby league players react when they get tackled. They wriggle to get up but can't because someone is holding them down. It always looks so funny to me....sorry Paul. One of my shoes was still in the cleate and I couldn't get it out....graceful it wasn't. I cut my right knee, the one I've had trouble with. It's a bit sore but I don't know if it's the fall or what it was before. I went through a forest of massive redwood trees, dark and very impressive. There were a couple of old shack type houses...I could hear the banjo playing and I thought I heard someone squeal like a pig..obviously it was in my imagination. I peddled like the clappers.
I didn't get here until it was dark so I decided to get a motel. I wanted to use the internet as well. Although it took seven visits to the reception, which is about one hundred yards away from my room, and a room switch until I actually got internet access.
I need to look at Google Map to see which way I'm going tomorrow. Hopefully I can head east and start to go home.