It's Portland,....but not as we know it.

Klamath to Portland

Our pre-conceptions of Klamath were to be proved very wrong. What appeared on the map to be one-horse town with little to offer other than a bed for the night on the way to the bright lights of Portland and Seattle turned out to be a real delight.

We arrived at our lodgings at tea-time and asked the very helpful lady on the reception desk if she could recommend a place for dinner later that night. She offered the Steelhead Lodge as a steakhouse that cooked up the best ribs and steaks we would ever eat. High praise indeed and easily disproved. It was with great pleasure that we found our way to their door, after some dubious map reading and some blind guessing to be presented with food perfectly described by our host. The most succulent steak and ribs accompanied by char-grilled mushroom and pineapple kebabs, soft and buttery jacket potatoes and home-made ice-cream. A eatery that would never have been found without the directions of a local, we ate the food, drank the wine and brought the t-shirt. The Steelhead Diner is a hidden gem in many ways and we are all the better for finding it.

Klamath itself was an interesting place. The Yurok tribe of native Americans hold sovereignty over Klamath and the surrounding areas. A tribe of fisherman for many centuries have hunted the lands around the mouth of the Klamath river since before the white man arrived and their ancestral land has been given back to them in recent year, and quite rightly.

A mammoth journey of some 360 miles over more than 6 hours through Eureka, Grants Pass and Salem eventually got us into Portland mid afternoon. The offer of an upgrade by our check-in guy means we are currently enjoying a top-floor suite at the Sentinel Hotel, Portland, complete with outdoor terrace with fire-pit overlooking a stunning city-scape below us. Life is pretty sweet for this bear right now.

A quick trip out for some dinner at a local brew-house included a selection of tasting beers and a very pleasant local pinot-noir.

And so to bed....

Night all.

Fred.

Thats not a tree.. Thats a TREEEEE!

Fort Bragg to Klamath

The North Cliff Hotel in Fort Bragg was fantastic, a beautiful room with a stunning view. What more could a weary bear want. We were all sad to leave, but the open road was calling.

A lovely drive today started off with some breath-taking coastal views.

Soon Highway 101 turned inland and wound it's way through the forest. A quick detour off the main highway lead us off down the magnificent Avenue of the Giants.
Those trees are BIG. MASSIVE. ENORMOUS. EPIC.

Nearly time for dinner. A BBQ steakhouse on the Klamath river has been recommended.

I'll tell you how it goes later.

Fred.

Do bears zip in the woods?

San Francisco to Fort Bragg.

Our final night in Frisco was spent at AT&T Park watching the SF Giants baseball team. Me, my travelling companions and 40,000 giants fans spent the evening consuming our own weight in corn dogs, garlics fries and beer. Some of us watched the game, many others seemed to be completely unaware that the game had started, been quite exciting for a while and finished in a huge anti-climax as the Giants star batter came to the plate to hit the winning home run in the last innings only to get himself caught out and thereby lose the game.

The next morning we picked up the rental and headed north out of town over the Golden Gate Bridge and on into Northern California heading for a date with some large trees.

An amazing experience we'll never forget, thanks to Nick and Marina our guides for showing us the ropes.

A spectacular drive along Pacific Highway 1 passing through some familar places

Until we reached our lodging for the night at Fort Bragg.

A long but unforgettable day.

Goodnight. Fred.

The Bear man of Alcatraz

Day 3 San Francisco

Another great day in San Francisco. Breakfast across the road at Lori's Diner again got us fuelled up and ready for a trip out to 'The Rock'.

A 15 minute boat ride and you arrive at one of the most famous prison's on earth.

The audio tour of the cell blocks really gives you an idea of what it must have been like to do porridge on the island. Lots of personal stories from bygone days from both inmates and guards.

Conditions in the cells must have been hell on earth. Just a few minutes in that confined space was enough to keep this bear on the straight and narrow.

We headed back across the bay for a pleasant wander along the Embarcadero to Pier 39 and a quick hello to the famous sea lions who hang out on the pontoons there.

Tired legs needed a lift back downtown, the world famous cable car seemed the obvious choice.

Time to relax and get ready for the ball game later tonight at the AT&T stadium. 

SF Giants v Cinncinati Reds. 

GO GIANTS!

The streets of San Francisco

Day 2 in San Francisco

An early night after a long day of trans-atlantic travel meant an early morning wake up from our hotel neighbour. It seems the walls of this fine and grand hotel are not as sound proof as a modern hotel might be.
A 4am phone call home from our fellow guest to discuss business matters in Karachi or some such place wasnt necessarily the early wake up call we were hoping for but hey ho!

Another couple of hours dozing before a hop across the road for breakfast at Lori's diner. Eggs Benny and corned beef hash with several mugs of coffee and we were all ready for the day ahead.

A bus tour of the city helped us orientate ourselves and showed us the sights.

After a few hours on the bus we decided to walk along the Embarcado from the AT&T ball park to the ferry building picking up an iconic cable car ride along California St back to Powell and The Sir Francis Drake Hotel for an afternoon nap before heading out for cocktails in the excellent people watching venue at The Starlight Room on the 21st floor of the Drake. Panaramic views across the city combined with delicious cocktails and cringey heavy petting from an apparently newly met couple at the next table made for an interesting time.

And so to bed.

Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair.

At last I have entered the Bay Area.
After an eleven hour flight from London, me and my human followers have arrived in California. After a 45 minute wait at the border  to enter President Trumps' Great American dream and a 30 minute ride on the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) sat adjacent to the traditional shouty mad local man I have finally arrived in downtown SF.

A quick freshen up and we hit the streets of San Francisco. A couple of beers in the Golden Gate Tap room across the road from the Sir Francis Drake followed by an excellent dinner in the historic Sears Fine Food restaurant  ended our 22 hour day in style.
Time for bed.
Goodnight all.

 Fred

Every great journey starts with a single step.

At last my Pacific Highway 1 road trip has begun.

After watching my fellow travellers struggling to close an unyielding luggage lid and continually check they were still in posession of all their essential travel documents it was time to head to the airport.

A quick dinner stop at a local hostelry en route gave me time to observe a group of fellow diners discussing their afternoon's golf round. Derek's chip in from a bunker on the 8th and Barry's wayward tee shot on the 13th disturbing a statuesque heron fishing on the margin of a nearby lake provided much entertainment for the group of retirement aged gentlemen.

Full of pie and crispy sweet potato fries we continued our journey.

A diverted route brought us towards London Heathrow through the county of Royal Berkshire. The sight of a distant Windsor Castle made me wonder why Her Majesty decided to build such a beautiful castle right under the flight path of one of the busiest airports in the world. I'll  never understand human beings.

And so to bed. Insomnia in a strange hotel room is no fun. With the anticipation of the upcoming trip combined with the gurgling plumbing from the pre-dawn showering and flushing of my fellow tarvellers, distant jet engines being run up to speed and reversing delivery lorries beeping out their warnings it was a long and sleepless night. Morning finally arrived and so to breakfast.

The Virgin Atlantic clubhouse is a lovely place for a bear to eat, drink, blog and relax.

Nearly time to board our flight.

See you on the other side of the pond.
Fred