Exodus And Decompression

4pm, Sunday 7th September

We made it out alive, sanity intact. That was certainly an overwhelming experience out in the desert there. We have retreated to the safety of San Francisco to recuperate and 'decompress'. I have had to hole myself up in the library here to give me a clear mind to put finger to keyboard. Having left Burning Man, we stayed Monday night in Reno, then finished the journey on Tuesday morning. The rest of the week has been a leisurely time in San Francisco, staying with a family friend of my girlfriend, a warm, generous chap with an apartment with a tremendous view over North-East SF. He works in the City Parks, managing a bunch of them, and is up at 5am most mornings doing so. Luckily, our small room in his cosy penthouse apartment has a door, and we sleep soundly through his exit every morning. Penthouse apartment, by the way, is my own moniker for top floor flat, although the views justify IMO the penthouse tag.

At this stage I suppose it would be appropriate to reflect on the good fortune we have had with our 'family connections'. Whilst this phrase conjures imagery of lofty occupational positions, in this context I mean friends of relatives, or relatives of friends. If I were to offer any advice so far from this trip, I would highly recommend anyone considering similar trips to research such potential links. We've found that at around 5 days the overstaying the welcome feeling begins to set in, although I am aware of the dangers of making general conclusions from 2 specific examples. I would like to think that our minimalist requirements - some floor space - have made our accomodation simple, and that having plenty to talk about made it enjoyable. Well, enough pontificatory musing, on with the action.


Leaving Burning Man was a pretty painless operation, a couple of hours from camp to tarmac, helped by restful air. The night previous we watched the Temple burn, and the storm afterwards made the trek across the playa cold and the air biting and opaque, when lit by torchlight. The photo from the last post is actually the Temple burning - Man burns Saturday, Temple burns Sunday - I was too wrapped up in the spectacle on Saturday to get any snaps... sorry. You'll just have to go see for yourself!

To conclude the lip theory experiment, I have positive results. Having applied no products to my lips in conditions that varied from 38C to 5C, no rain/snow and a little wind for 8 days, they are in tip-top shape. A 'cracking' result, I'm pleased to inform.

We stayed in a cheap, chain motel on Monday, washed all our clothes of the fine gypsum that encrusted every pore of everything we wore (which was, of course, everything), and washed our bodies likewise. My apologies go out to the cleaning staff at the motel. By the time of our arrival in San Francisco, we had assessed the impact of driving through fine dust storms on the car. Cosmetically, a thick film covered every possible crevice indoors and out - nothing that a carwash and a good hoover wouldn't sort. The liftgate lock wouldn't lock - $120 later that was sorted. And the stereo's ability to communicate in any way with either CDs or tapes was severely hampered. And, Eject seems a function alien to it at the moment. I decided that an early oil change would be wise, although we had done 3,500 miles anyway, and changed the air filter and oil filter at the same time.

view over Golden Gate bridge with SF in behind

OK, yawn, yawn, sorry, Friday our host showed us around SF. We picked up a sublime pizza foccacia at Liguria Bakery (at 1700 Stockton St, corner of Filbert St) - the only variety left by 10.30am - and drove around checking out the Art College, various cool parts of town, the Golden Gate Bridge, the headland to the North (with spectacular views of the city) and Baker and Ocean Beaches. Dinner at Café Gratitude was an unusually friendly (almost over the top - even by American standards) atmosphere with uniquely imaginative raw cuisine - quite unlike anywhere I've eaten - very tasty and left me feeling more satisfied than I imagined I would be.

Mural by Diego Rivera in SF Art College

Just before coming to the library, I happened across Bound Together, the Anarchist Bookstore on Haight Street. Haight St. used to be 'the place' back in the 60s with hippies everywhere, and now still has a high dose of charm, but feels a bit faded. Lots of cool thrift / charity shops with very cheap and cool second hand clothes. And this bookstore. I invested in 3 tomes - Violence by some guy, Days of War, Nights of Love by the CrimethInc Collective and a book on Cuban anarchism. Should keep me off the streets for a while. Had a good chat with a guy in there about social centres, squatting and collectives and there certainly exists a different take on revolutionary politics here than home, or at least how the politics are brought home, literally, to modes of living.

Squatting being criminally illegal in the States, there are no public squats in San Francisco. What squats there are, it's in the occupiers interests to keep out of public knowledge. He did mention that there are various collectives that do their own thing. Sounds fairly decentralised I guess then. Off to Sebastopol on the way to the Redwood National Park in Northern California tomorrow... the outstaying our welcome feeling is growing.