De toute façon, on perd toujours son temps, sauf quand on tire un bon coup, crée une oeuvre d'art ou s'imagine vivre le parfait amour. On finira tous dans la mélancolie de la défaite, de la mort, ou de la couillonnade, au choix.
Charles BUKOWSKY


Day 44

am (Hot, Cool wind , Cold, Fog)

pm (Hot, Cool wind , Cold, Fog)

Rides = nil
Arrival = San Francisco
KM travelled = nil
$ spent = $12.00 (Food, Auction & ?)
Time passed on the road = nil
km walked = 5

Ocean Beach, the Pacific Ocean was great. I mean nobody could ask for anything more beautiful, for anything more absolute than the Pacific Ocean. The water was dark blue and the sky was cerulean. There was a mist in the air. The birds were small white dots moving in the landscape. The wind was blowing on everything from and eastward direction. I was being hypnotized by the crashing of the waves on the shore. The only sore spot consisted of all of the manmade constructions around the ocean. It was like a circus, with windmills, boardwalks, ice cream parlours and French fry wagons. I stayed there for a long time, focussing on the good things and breathing all of my freedom.

On my way back, I took the wrong bus and ended up at the other end of the City. I did not have any change so I went into a tavern hoping to get some coins for my dollar. I knew that the legal age was 21 years old but I sat at the counter anyway. The barman came and asked me what I wanted. I said a Budweiser, to which he replied, "Coming right up." I was shocked, I did not expect that. I did show my excitement to finally drink a beer in a bar. The beer came, I paid the barman and I kept the change for my bus ride. Then this guy who had been in the bar for longer then myself sat beside me and said, "gfqeurfeh oeh dfkjbh dfb." I looked at him and said, "Not too fast. I am French Canadian." "Bullshit!" he said, You're American! Don't give me that crap. You know, I was in Vietnam."

Then he did this weird one - a two punch thing, he said that I was a racist and he paid me a beer. That was how it began. We ended up talking about prejudices and relations between people, human respect and tolerance. He talked about the Watts riots and I told him about the Acadians. His name was Terrence and when he said he had to go, I asked him for a cigarette. He threw me the pack and said, "Keep it man, you're a good shit!"

I left the tavern and like a homing pigeon, found my youth hostel and my bed.


- Daniel


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