Another day of airports. But first a relaxed morning. A
large fried breakfast was followed by farewells to Rupert's family.
Mark entertained the kids by showing them how the digital camera worked,
after which the creaky bones of the assembled party were called into service
for a swift game of football (soccer, given where we are). Amazingly,
there were no injuries.
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So
to another series of airports. First Minneapolis-St Paul, where a
very lengthy security check took place, and we watched our luggage being
dropped onto the taxiway. Then back to bloody Chicago for another
change of planes, then off west. At least a friendly bar was found
at MSP, where the necessary preparations for the journey were made.
On
arrival at San Francisco, we were kept fannying around for an incredible
amount of time as luggage failed to arrive on the carousel,we just missed
the train to the car hire place, the car hire place then tried to hire
us a different car, claimed that Rupert's card had bounced, etc. etc.
But at last we were here, and in spite of Mark's navigating efforts we
managed to find the hotel.
We were staying at the Astoria, a pleasingly ranshackle place that advertised
itself as being "at the gates of Chinatown". And, for once, the description
didn't lie. The huge ornamental gate that marks the entrace to Chinatown
was indeed a full five seconds' walk from the door of the hotel.
So a pleasing amount of Chinese seafood was consumed, maps and guidebooks
were consulted, and plans were laid for the next day..
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