Saturday morning my family and I drove up to San Francisco with my cousin Connor to go tour Alcatraz, which none of us have ever done before. In preparation for visiting the infamous and much-lauded prison, we watched Clint Eastwood traverse the pipes in Escape From Alcatraz, which made the tour itself much more interesting for me. I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the audio tour and the lack of overwhelming misery and depression, which I fully expected. No, I would not like to do time there, but compared to Robben Island it was positively comfortable. It poured rain all morning, which added to the eerie isolation feel, but the sun came out after lunch at the Ferry Building (Out the Door Vietnamese and hamburgers) and for our stroll along the waterfront. We drove down Lombard st., saw a movie with a flipped car being filmed, and got salted caramel ice cream from the Bi Rite Creamery (yum!). At Sur La Table I got a lovely sassy mug to replace the one from my friend Sarah, that I left in creative writing one day. My original mug said "She could no longer pretend that he wasn't an idiot." My new one has two girls cooking, and it says, "Funny, I don't remember asking for your opinion." Both sentiments mirror me well.
The beautifully rusted roof of one of the Alcatraz workshop.
D Block solitary confinement. (Not the happy place to be).
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