Left my heart with flowers in my hair.

The long delay in Portland cost us an afternoon in San Francisco. There was no sunlight left when we hit Market Street to explore a little and find some dinner.

The next day we went into tourist overdrive. A quick breakfast in North Beach and we hoofed it uphill to Coit Tower for a view of the bay and obligatory photos.

Obligatory view!

Down the stairs and across the park toward the bay we stopped for a shot of the tower. The sun was in just the wrong spot for a lot of the photos we tried to take. Shots from the bottom of the hill worked out a lot better.

Better photo!

Then began a day of buses. The first took us from downtown to the Golden Gate Park; three miles by a half mile of public parks in San Francisco. We covered a fraction of that, taking in the art museum, the tea garden and the arboretum, a bunch of fountains and the amphitheater.

Fountains, yes! Touristing to the max!

Not that we went into any of these attractions, just cruised past at high speed and confirmed they were there, snapping photos as we went. The weather was on side; cool in the shade, warm in the sun, very dry. Across the road from the park we caught another bus straight up to the Golden Gate Bridge, which I had driven across on the last trip but never really set foot on.

Blue skies, red steel.

The bridge was very popular with families and visitors for the holidays; it was the last Saturday before Christmas. That was important, though I didn't realise it at the time.

A change of buses at Fort Mason and we began the long crawl back to Union Square. The bus took us through Chinatown and the funky tunnel which goes under the hills of San Francisco. To be honest we could have walked faster than the bus was moving. The traffic was so heavy we began to question what was happening ahead.

The last Saturday before Christmas is, as it happens, the second-busiest shopping day of the year in the USA. There were so many people in Union Square, and on Market Street, and in the stores, and on the street corners, and just... everywhere, that I do not believe there were any people anywhere else in San Francisco.

Though I hate to exaggerate.

Ali handled the crowds better than I did, and even steered me to do a little shopping (good news Rob I got you some undies).

That night we decided to cross into SoMa and try the food and beers at the Thirsty Bear. Tapas and a tasting board was a great combination, and in particular Ali really enjoyed the Panda Bear, flavoured with vanilla beans and cocoa nibs.

Mmm beers

The next day was street-car day. All destinations we visited were on the street-car route. Inside the Ferry Building we grabbed some coffee from Blue Bottle (good) and an Italian doughnut from a woman who was the definition of San Francisco attitude (not great).

Mum I didn't get this for you. Sorry.

The street-car took us all the way up to Fisherman's Wharf and the weather was wonderful again.

More blue skies...

We braved the tourists to get more photos on the bay and a little of the vitamin D we had missed so much in Portland.

Ali gettin' some sun.

The restaurants and duck tours and other shouted invitations did nothing for us. In fact there was only one must-see for us at Fisherman's Wharf - the Sea Lions. And they were putting on a show. Hundreds of them lay across Pier 39, sunning themselves, climbing onto boats and yelling at each other. While we watched a couple chased one another in the water and leaped onto the back of a yacht.

Sea lions do not respect personal property

The streetcar went all the way down to The Castro, where we joined the line outside Ike's Place for what we were told was the best sandwich we would ever eat. Thirty minutes in line but we were not disappointed. The food was so good we completely forgot to take a photo of it. Instead we sat in a park around the corner and enjoyed our lunch. The only mistake we had made was ordering a sandwich each. One was more than enough for two people. As it was, we wound up finishing them for dinner.

View from the Castro all the way to the Ferry Building

A coffee (or hot-chocolate) in the Castro and we were done. Ali stopped on Market Street for a few final goes through the shops and we were all San Franciscoed out. The next day the crowds would turn out for the last ever regular-season game at Candlestick Park, but we would already be in Texas.

One freezing day in Portland

Byways looks like a traditional American diner, and it was a surprise when our server offered to replace the potatoes and toast which came with our omelets with fruit. After an Argentinian-style dinner best described as 'hearty,' we were ready for a little fruit and jumped at the chance. This sort of thoughtful menu and service is part of why Portland is such a great city to visit.

The weather was not so accommodating. Temperatures stayed at or below 6 degrees all day. The decision to have breakfast and explore the Pearl District didn't seem so clever when we got underway. Wind pummeled us the whole way along Morrison street and a number of times we considered stopping early to eat, well, anywhere to get in out of the cold. It would have been a mistake, and it's great that we persevered.

After breakfast (and a number of cups of coffee), Ali came up with a plan. We hopped about the Pearl District, stopping in at clothing stores, book stores, cafes and anywhere else we could close the door behind us.

A stop at the University of Oregon let me top-up my supply of Ducks merchandise. We got another round of Voodoo Doughnuts, bought coffee from the renowned Stumptown Roasters and retreated to our hotel room. We needed a break from the cold and a rest before we tackled some of the recommended Portland spots.

The first stop was The Nines hotel, or more specifically the bar on top of the hotel, Departure.

Clouds are a constant companion in Portland.

Portland is not a very tall city. The floor-to-ceiling windows of the Departure lounge give views of downtown, the rivers, everything to the horizon.

I have just now realised I can see our hotel in this photo

It was a weeknight, so the west lounge was closed, but the view from the east bar was very impressive. Also impressive were the samosas. We stayed long enough to have one beer and then braved the Portland night toward our next stop.

In planning the activities for that night we made certain we never had to stay out in the cold too long, and that our walk from our last stop back to the hotel would not be too far. The furthest we strayed was for stop number two; Bailey's Taproom.

Porter on the left, pale on the right

Bailey's is all about beer. With twenty-four beers on tap and a constantly changing list it's a popular spot and while there was nowhere to sit the atmosphere was friendly and we had no problem standing. The only issue came from where we chose to leave our beers - a side-table which turned out to be the drop-off point for the local Mexican restaurant, which delivered to tables in the Taproom. The sight (and smell!) of the food being delivered nearly caused us to change our plans.

The Taproom was part of the last American adventure - the one which started this blog. It's also where I met Josh, who invited us to go tailgating at a Ducks game three years ago.

The list of beers on tap.

With appropriate haste we walked back down to Broadway and made a right to the Picnic House. We had seen the House while walking the day before, noted its funky decor, and moved on. But after a strong local recommendation we booked a table and went for one of the best meals we have eaten. I am going to cover it in some detail so, if you're hungry, get a snack.

For what it's worth, I recommend cheese.

We were hungry when we arrived, so straight away ordered the cheese platter and some garlic bread (and of course beer). What we were served could have been a meal in itself - five types of cheese, fruits and other assorted nibbles, and a loaf of bread.

That took a bit of time to get through. Our server (wisely) asked if we needed to make a choice from the mains menu or if we had enough.

We were ready for more.

Wild boar, house-made pasta.

The kitchen were happy to split a main for us, which was great, because the mains were huge and we were kind of full of cheese. With a history of trying new meats (especially while travelling) I was keen on the wild boar pasta. Ali was skeptical but a positive word from the server made it a winner.

If you go to Portland, if you go to Picnic House, if it's on the menu, get the wild boar. Tender, rich and perfectly cooked. We are still talking about it days later.

There's a way people sit after a satisfying meal, leaning back from the table with a lazy, sated expression. Our server read our body language and asked if we needed to see the dessert menu.

The smart thing would have been to say no. But damn it, in for a penny...

I am so glad we shared this.

Smore pudding. House-made marshmallows on a chocolate pudding dressed with crushed graham crackers. It was... great.

The back area was being used for Christmas parties and while we were eating a performance began - a reading of Dickens' A Christmas Carol, complete with rattling chains.

Obligatory lights photo

Full bellies made us want to walk for a while but once outside the cold night drove us toward the hotel. We paused long enough to take photos of the Christmas lights. There were carols, more readings in the square, a very Christmas-y feel. Christmas seems to be easier to do when it's not so hot you just want to lie around and drink.

This is Morrison street, which we stayed on

That was our last night in Portland. Kate met us for breakfast the next morning (a return to Mother's) and was kind enough to take us to the airport.

We arrived with time to spare. A lot of time, as it happened - due to weather and mechanical issues, our flight was delayed by a little over three hours. Portland airport is well put together, with a lot of local businesses inside the terminal. With five hours on our hands, we explored, had tea, a good lunch, and were ready to go when our flight for San Francisco finally arrived.

We even got an obligatory shot of the PDX carpet.

Like food? Beer? You'll like Portland.

In a way Portland was a perfect holiday spot. It isn't a tourist destination, so we weren't compelled to go and take photos of all of the 'must see' locations from guidebooks. Instead we spent our time wandering and, to be honest, eating.

Coming in from Hawaii we arrived late and needed food because we still felt like it was dinner time. The guy at the hotel desk recommended Paddy's, where they serve food til 2am and Ali got to have her first Mac & Cheese in the States.

It meant we got up quite late the next morning and had to find somewhere nearby for breakfast. A few blocks away was Mother's, where they were only too happy to split a hot breakfast and a bowl of fruit for us, which was lucky, because even that turned out to be too much food for us to finish. It was all for the best, because we were able to head to the world-famous Voodoo Doughnut, where we tried the Portland Cream and the Old Dirty Bastard.

Guess which is which.

We took the opportunity to get some shopping done. It was at or close to freezing the entire time we were in the city, so we both bought coats and then never left the apartment without them. Suitably rugged up we went for a walk along the river to take in some of the wonderful Portland weather which was... bracing.

There was no need to have lunch. Josh and Kate, heroes from the last American adventure, had arranged dinner, and had told us to come hungry.

It was good advice. They took us to Ox, and fed us crab and trout and skirt-steak and honey-glazed vegetables and oh goodness so many amazing things.

In return, we gave them Tim-Tams.

You'd be smiling too.

In the bistro under our hotel, a surly server brought us tea and we taught the Portlanders how to Tim-Tam-Slam, something I had promised to do for years.

Everybody loves Slams. Except my mum.

Since then I've received texts letting me know that they have introduced more people to the chocolate biscuit/tea wonder-from-down-under. Kate and Josh gave us a bunch of recommendations for the next day, and we took them all on board.

Crater and cocktails

The plan worked. Monday morning found us well rested and excited to put our time in Honolulu to use. So we went to the mall.

After a very successful morning shopping (total haul; 1 x hair straightener, 1 x SIM card, 1 x jacket) we got on a bus out to the Diamond Head Crater national park.

At the hotel we were warned to wear running shoes, not thongs, definitely not high-heels. The bus dropped us outside the national park area, and we paid our entry fee of a dollar. Including the two-fifty for the bus, the walk is a great, low-cost afternoon in Waikiki.

The way up

The path wound back and forth the inside of the crater. It was steep in places, but not difficult going, especially after seeing the walking paths in Norway. Things only got tough when we got to the stairs to the bunker, which are pictured later on.

It was busy in both directions, with a lot of tourists taking advantage of the view. And it was easy to see why.

Bunker on the right, Waikiki on the left. Sky above.

The island put on a little show for us as well, with the clouds sitting nice and low on the mountains for better photos.

After the walk up it was nice to break for a while and get some photos.

Directly below the ridge was a lighthouse and the beautiful reef.

Everywhere we went the waves broke far from the shore and travelled all the way in

The combination of natural structures and the aged military infrastructure made the walk quite interesting. Running up the stairs, ducking through tunnels and into bunkers broke up the trip.

The way to the top

Ali in a tunnel

That night we returned to the not-our-hotel pool for cocktails at sunset. Ali was smart and ordered a pina colada, which was delicious. I was silly and ordered a maitai, which was mostly rum, with some spice rum added for colour.

Every drop was worth it for the view.

It was a gorgeous evening, with music, dancers and drinks.

On the banks of the mighty Bosporus...

The rains of Waikiki

When we booked Honolulu as our first stop, we didn't plan for rain. Rain is what we got, though.

Rain and a view.

We spent the morning of the first day darting between doorways and through malls, trying to find a dry path from the hotel to the beach.

I could never remember the way to the beach, even though it was right there.

We came up with a plan to manage the time change - stay awake until midday, sleep for a little while, and head out for dinner. By morning we would be on Hawaiian time.

Alison was excited - her dream of all filtered coffee, all the time, was coming true

The plan was a good one. The time difference from Brisbane to Honolulu, and the eight hour flight, combined to make the change pretty easy on us. It took a little while for our body-clocks to catch up, and we had dinner quite early.

Dinner was at Cheeseburger in Paradise because of course it was.

James was excited - his dream of all cheeseburgers, all the time, was coming true.

After dinner it had fined up enough to finally walk along the beach. Waikiki beach is dominated by hotels and shopping malls, but a short stretch of beach between Diamondhead Crater (the subject of the next post!) and the high-density buildings provides beach access for the regular punter.

Far; crater. Near; punters.

We took the opportunity to explore the maze of stores and hotels and eventually found ourselves at what appeared to be the pool of the Sheraton hotel, which nobody attempted to stop us entering and which did not even have a fence (in Australia you would be fined so much). Perched in illicit deckchairs, we got some photos of a stunning sunset.

Pictured; stunning.

With no attempt made to eject us from the premises, we resolved to return the following evening for a sunset cocktail. But our first day in Hawaii was done, and we retreated to our own hotel.