Beard man of Alcatraz

As today was the day we were supposed to be here, we thought it best to do some 'proper' sight seeing. Now I've always been a big fan of Clint Eastwood (no really I have!), so it seemed to make some logical sense to go visit 'The Rock' or Alcatraz to you and me and pay homage to the man himself by having a look around the place he managed to escape from.

At this point it's worth bearing in mind that Lou and I came away from Blighty travelling light. Real light. So light in fact, that we didn't really bring any warm clothes to speak of other than a thin hoody. Who needs warm clothes in Oz? It's summer there for crying out loud!

Enter a cold morning in San Francisco... a VERY cold morning in San Francisco. This is where any ounce of fashion sense is quickly thrown aside in favour of buying some frankly cheap comical 'tourist' hoodies. My weapon of choice? A charcoal grey effort with 'San Francisco' emblazoned on the front. Lou's however was far more offensive 'Alcatraz state penitentiary swimming team'. Genius.

Alcatraz itself was great (or as great as a high security prison can get) and the audio guide was wicked.

On our way out there was a grey haired old guy sitting at a book desk next to a sign that said 'meet the author'. Bless him I thought as I walked straight past him. Feeling a bit guilty, I decided I'd go back and make the old fella's day by having a chat about his book 'Alcatraz, the true end of the line'. Turns out he was an ex-inmate and had written a book about the place. Anyway, I'm stood there reading a list of all of his crimes and how much time he'd served and more importantly for what. The list was pretty scary to be honest but by this time he was looking at me and expecting a response...
"This you is it?" I said sheepishly.
"Yep" came the reply, non plussed by the bearded nutjob in front of him.
"erm... when did you get out?" Man, I was digging such hole to fall in to.
"1972" he said, now looking REALLY frustrated at my line of questioning.
Now, my final line wasn't meant as anything more than a "Oh I see" but I'm so used to saying it, I utter the line "Cool". Prat. With that, I made a hasty retreat to the ferry back to shore not stopping to see if he's chasing me.

Note to self: Not everything is 'cool'

Darren