We didn't, it turns out, stay in SF last night.
SFO, for them as don't know, isn't all that close to what people think of as SF. It's, in fact, closer, sort of, to San Jose. The flight was later than expected, and we picked him up about 9:00, and so decided to head south, find food and if we had to, grab a hotel and continue in the morning (because no matter how we sliced it he has a plane to catch tomorrow, and the dogs need to be fed).
A nice taqueria in San Jose, and I ate too much, which meant I was in no shape to drive. We were looking for an Indian place we'd eaten at before, but got turned around and found this. Locals, good salsa bar, tamarindo, jacaima and horchata as well as the usual soft drinks, and some beers.
Maia went for about an hour and a half, and then we pulled off the freeway over for a nap (I being dozey, from the distension of my belly. The carnitas were good, and the tortillas plentiful, so many tacos were made from the beans, rice, pico de gallo, salsa roja and sour cream on my plate. I felt as though letting my belt out was a good idea).
The ungodly candlepower of the Highway Patrol wondering if we were all right woke us. They apologised for waking us. The sawhorse, or whatever it was with the blinking light had caused them (we think) to pull off (it was an off, and straight on again, exit, with a stretch of empty road between).
I drove for an hour or so. Long driving at night makes me sleepy. I can counter this with conversation... or really good radio/music (neither of which was ready to hand. The CD player wasn't in the tape drive, and the radio between San Jose and Camp Roberts is awful. Alice Cooper at Night (yes, Alice Cooper has a radio show, syndicated I presume) was the best, and it was only ok.
So I handed it back to Maia and off we went again.
In the house about 0200 and slept to 0900, and a shower and now to breakfast.
Next time we head to SF, we'll make plans longer out.
SFO, for them as don't know, isn't all that close to what people think of as SF. It's, in fact, closer, sort of, to San Jose. The flight was later than expected, and we picked him up about 9:00, and so decided to head south, find food and if we had to, grab a hotel and continue in the morning (because no matter how we sliced it he has a plane to catch tomorrow, and the dogs need to be fed).
A nice taqueria in San Jose, and I ate too much, which meant I was in no shape to drive. We were looking for an Indian place we'd eaten at before, but got turned around and found this. Locals, good salsa bar, tamarindo, jacaima and horchata as well as the usual soft drinks, and some beers.
Maia went for about an hour and a half, and then we pulled off the freeway over for a nap (I being dozey, from the distension of my belly. The carnitas were good, and the tortillas plentiful, so many tacos were made from the beans, rice, pico de gallo, salsa roja and sour cream on my plate. I felt as though letting my belt out was a good idea).
The ungodly candlepower of the Highway Patrol wondering if we were all right woke us. They apologised for waking us. The sawhorse, or whatever it was with the blinking light had caused them (we think) to pull off (it was an off, and straight on again, exit, with a stretch of empty road between).
I drove for an hour or so. Long driving at night makes me sleepy. I can counter this with conversation... or really good radio/music (neither of which was ready to hand. The CD player wasn't in the tape drive, and the radio between San Jose and Camp Roberts is awful. Alice Cooper at Night (yes, Alice Cooper has a radio show, syndicated I presume) was the best, and it was only ok.
So I handed it back to Maia and off we went again.
In the house about 0200 and slept to 0900, and a shower and now to breakfast.
Next time we head to SF, we'll make plans longer out.