I’m slowly getting used to the fact that putting me behind the wheel of a several ton vehicle that regularly travels at over 90 km/hr isn’t an entirely ridiculous proposition. But the one thing I’ve categorically refused to so until now is drive to San Francisco.
You have to make some sacrifices for friends, though. So today afternoon I made the trek from the South Bay up to the city.
It wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected. In fact, large tracts of the 280 North are gorgeous – hills and curving roads and generally the kind of spaciousness that doesn’t exist in, say, my home country.
With some good music and a well-charged phone, things speed along pretty well. Even at 80 mph, the view of the city, a jumble of mismatched buildings emerging from the fog, is pretty neat.
I’m astonished some city roads even work the way they do. Signs proclaim that roads are two way, when they quite clearly can accommodate at most 1.5 Smart cars.
By some San Franciscan miracle I made it through several of these thoroughfares and got myself to my friends’ place.
Ta da! Driving to the city!