Travel Biography - Week 70.

Since I'm Fond of Mice, the Need for Travel was Essential.

Except where specified, all photos are my own, taken in 1995.

If I want to go to Disneyland to spend a day, I would need to live in the Los Angeles Area. The trip would still be plausible had I lived in San Diego, for it would take about ninety minutes to reach the park by car. From Santa Barbara, it should take around two hours. Lucky for me, had I lived in Santa Ana, a mainly residential area south of Los Angeles, Disneyland would have been a 15-minute drive away. 

However, for Walt Disney World, a park covering a much wider area in Orlando, Florida, a three-and-a-half-hour car journey from Miami would have made a day trip practically implausible. On the other hand, a trip to Disney World from Pensacola, also in Florida but close to the border with the State of Alabama, a six-hour drive to get there would have required at least two nights at a nearby hotel.

Yet, had I lived in Paris or nearby, a ridiculously named Eurodisney would have been very convenient. Rather, if I'm correct on this, the name of this French park has since changed to Disneyland Paris. As it is, from where I live, a Eurostar train from London to Paris would have been necessary, and like with the Florida version, at least two nights in a hotel would be required if I wanted to spend a whole day. Unfortunately, Eurostar had ceased direct services to Disneyland Paris a couple of years ago, thus necessitating a change of trains at the French city of Lille.

Quite an effort just to see a very large mouse!

When I was a boy attending Wedgewood Primary School in London around 1962, the class took care of a pet mouse kept in a cage. Each morning, we all took turns having this tame little white rodent rest on the palm of our hands under the supervision of the teacher. I handled it several times.

However, Walt Disney also kept mice - gigantic black mice, all of them named Mickey - who stood on two legs, giving the notion that mice were bipedal, like us. In fact, one little boy who visited Disneyland with his Mum was so intrigued by the giant rodent that at the end of the day, a newspaper reported, the mother took Disneyland to Court for deeply upsetting her young son.

Disney's Mickey Mouse. Stock photo.

What happened, unfortunately for Mickey, there was an incident in the park which required emergency action. For convenience, Mickey took off his headgear, only to reveal that Mickey was a man dressed in a mouse costume. The boy's shocking encounter with reality made him so upset that his Mum felt that suing the park in Court was appropriate.

Nowadays, I don't have to fly halfway around the world just to say hello to Mickey. Instead, I could just travel to Paris. But, to me personally, neither Paris, Orlando, nor Los Angeles could hold a candle to one particular coastal city I had just arrived at - San Francisco.

San Francisco's Cable Cars.

If there was a city with so many attractions confined in a comparatively small area, San Francisco has them. And the most intriguing, not just to me but to the majority of tourists, are the cable cars. No pretence here, they are a means of transport for commuters and tourists alike, thus making the city the most unique in the world. I believe it's those cable cars that inspired songs such as, I Left My Heart in San Francisco (1962) by Tony Bennett, San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair) (1967) by Scott Mckenzie, Let's Go To San Francisco (1967) by The Flowerpot Men, and many more.

There are three separate lines on which the cable cars run, each name from the street through where the municipal railway runs: The Powell Mason line, the Powell Hyde line, and the California Street line. Throughout my stay in the city, I enjoyed rides on all three routes. The Powell line turnaround terminal wasn't far from the Grand Hostel on Market Street, where I was staying.

One day, I was strolling along Mason Street when I arrived by chance at a building which is at the corner of Mason Street and Washington Street. Despite my previous visits to San Francisco (in 1977 and 1978) when I didn't notice or was unaware of the building, this was the first time I took note. Over the door was the logo, Cable Car Museum. I thought, why not? I'll go in and see what this is all about.

The most famous view of a cable car.

What I saw was more than just a display of exhibits. It was the powerhouse of the entire cable car system, and it was here that I learned about this amazing and unique transport system. From the public viewing gallery, I saw eight large rapidly rotating wheels, all the same size. There were four power wheels, driven by power motors. One was for the Mason Street line, another for the Hyde Street line, a third for the Powell Street line, and the fourth for the California Street line. Each of these four wheels drives a cable through the middle of the rail tracks embedded in the appropriate street of the city. Each cable is 1.25 inches thick, with the longest cable at 4,900 metres, powering the Hyde Street line, and the shortest at 2,800 metres powering the Mason Street line. The speed at which each cable travels non-stop through the city is 9.5 miles per hour. Hence, the rotational speed of each wheel is the same for all.

Inside the Cable Car Powerhouse.

Each car is equipped with a grip located under the vehicle. The operator pulls the lever and the grip clamps the cable, hence, the car moves at a steady 9.5 mph whether it goes uphill, downhill, or on level ground. When stopping at a station, the operator pushes the lever and the grip releases the cable and the brakes are applied. The braking prevents the car from accelerating if going downhill, or rolling backwards if going uphill. None of the cars had a motor of its own, much to my surprise, but all its movement was by gripping the cable.

As I stood, mesmerised by the rotation of the wheels, each giving off a constant whirring sound, there were frequent jolts on each of the four cables. That was when a car gripped the cable to start it moving. And that was the purpose of the other four wheels which moved either to the left or right. They absorbed the tension in the cables and ironed out any jolts.

The Balclutha and Fisherman's Wharf.

I had just arrived in San Francisco after an overnight journey from Los Angeles, and I had already checked in at the Grand Hostel on Market Street. After restocking the kitchen pigeonhole from a nearby superstore, I made my way to Hyde Pier. Here, the tall masts of the metal hull ship The Balclutha stood above the other vessels moored at the pier. Furthermore, it was open to the public. It was built in Glasgow in 1886 to serve as a cargo vessel, carrying merchandise around the world before becoming part of the San Francisco Historical Park in 1976. I was free to stroll around the ship without an escort (unlike at the USS Constitution moored in Boston, Massachusetts, where a tour guide was mandatory.) Surprisingly, there weren't many other people on board, only an occasional couple.

The masts of the Balclutha are behind me.

After strolling around and taking in the history of the ship, I sat on one of the seats on deck and fell asleep. This was due to the stress of overnight travel. Sometimes I see the next day without any tiredness. But there were also times when I could drop off to sleep after sitting on a bus throughout the night. At the Balclutha, this was one of those occasions.

View of the city from the Balclutha.

Sometime later, I strolled onto Fisherman's Wharf, a bustling centre where fishermen still bring in their catch. Market stalls selling seafood were seen here, although I didn't try any of them. Except for cod and chips (fried potato wedges), seafood was never a favourite. The whole area, in contrast to Hyde Pier, was very touristy, crowds of people swarmed the area, despite being Autumn. If it was like this at this time of the year, I have wondered what it would be like in the summer. The esplanade looked out into San Francisco Bay, where the azure blue water of the Pacific Ocean isolated the natural island on which the presently closed down Alcatraz Prison, also known as The Rock, could be seen a mile and a quarter away, with easy access by ferry. 

My last visit to San Francisco was in 1978, and over seventeen years, some modernisation seemed to have taken place to make the area more attractive to tourists. Back then, I boarded a ferry to Sausalito, a small harbour town on the east side of the Marin County peninsula, hence facing into the bay. The boat ploughed through the clear sea, passing Alcatraz Island, back then inaccessible to the public despite having already closed in 1963. From the ferry, I saw directly above a couple of seagulls soaring over the ocean.

Fisherman's Wharf was also the location of Pier 39, the city's most famous and popular pier. Bustling with shops and restaurants, it also boasted a merry-go-round. The spirit here was very jovial. However, what intrigued me most of all about the area was the abundance of sea lions. In the bay adjoining Pier 39, rows of abandoned boat landing boards were arranged in rows. Rather than all being removed, they became the ideal resting platforms for sea lions. Such wonders, as I saw them, of nature taking advantage of man-made environments.

Pier 39.

Sea lions on the decking.

The harmony between nature and man. The two peninsulas, the San Francisco Peninsula and Marin County Peninsula create a natural gateway for the Pacific Ocean to flow inland to form San Francisco Bay. All that, along with the most unique form of municipal railway transport system, really makes this city worth my time and money.

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Next Week: I hire a bicycle to ride the early morning deserted streets of the city.