If the travel Gods were smiling down on me in my trip to America, they were downright pissed off at me in San Francisco... or maybe they were just furious at Alice, my traveling partner, and I was just in the line of fire - because what was supposed to be a simple 1 hour stroll across the Golden Gate Bridge turned into a bush-bashing, death-defying 5 hour extreme sporting event. I blame Alice, who in turn, blame her imaginary friend who apparently recommended that we should take this particular 'stroll'.
"Are you sure?" asks I, dehydrated and delirious.
"Yep! I'm great with directions!" she responded chirpily, "It's not that far away!"
2 hours laters, as we were nearing the building, we decided that enough was enough, and rather than walking up and down hilly San Fran, we'd catch a taxi back to the hotel.... but then, every man and his dog were out in the park that day, and and they all seemed to have cottoned onto the same plan, so we ended up walking all the way back.
As we were heading back, we looked at the map, thinking about our plans for that night to go to the Castro section - Alice proclaimed, yet again, that it didn't look "that far away!". I hit her over the back of the head with the map.
--------------------Hour 3 of my great adventure-------------------
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