July 6. Chinatown And Tears Of A Clown.

Largely because I'd been told I should, I visited Chinatown and Lafeyette Park. Some friends  cont Chinatown as one of their favourite bits of San Francisco, especially when it comes to eating! Unfortunately, I love eating just about anything except Chinese or Japanese food, which obviously makes me some sort of gastronomic freak.

I had a wander round anyway, and was impressed more than anything by the very special kinds of rubbish on offer in the stores devoted to 'artistic' souvenirs. Some of these have got to be seen to be believed. Photos and commentary here.

I got on much better with Lafeyette Park. Most of the tourist books suggest a visit to this area to gawp at the architecture, and they are right to do so.

It's a very attractive part of the city, steeped in history and as charming as a lucky charm that came top of the class in charm school.

In the evening I went to see Teatro ZinZanni, the second must-see San Francisco show after Beach Blanket Babylon. The show leaflet promises 'Love, Chaos, Dinner', which is blatant false advertising since only the third is actually on offer.

So what is it? Well, it's a deliciously flamboyant fusion of song, cabaret and circus, performed in the round while you pace yourself through a 5 course dinner. Not all of it is brilliant, and the food isn't great, but when it does work it works superbly well, and there really is nothing else like it. Make no mistake, it takes a small army to make the show happen, and everyone involved works darned hard. Here you can see my friend Lupin, who works in the lobby and paints faces. We decided I would be a sad clown with a silver tear. And yes, she really is called Lupin. You got a problem with that?

July 7. Superman, Twin Peaks And The First Tie.

My last full day in San Francisco. I decided I had to ride a cable car, just because I'm a tourist and it's the kind of nonsense that tourists get up to. I went to the terminus at the bottom of Powell Street, where I waited in a very long line for a very long time. After about an hour, I got on the cable car, went all the way to the other end and then got on it again to come all the way back. Pointless? I'll say it's pointless.

I enjoyed seeing how the cable cars get turned around at the end of each trip, so that they can trundle back the way they came. This is accomplished using manual labour and a huge turntable mechanism.

I took this picture of one of the guys slaving away turning cable cars around, and then had to wait very patiently until I could get another photo without him noticing. A photo of his right leg. Featuring a Superman tattoo:

In the evening I had the honour of giving a magic lecture for legendary magical proprietor Joe Pon. Doug Dyment (the patron saint of visiting magicians) drove me there, and on the way he had a brilliant idea: to take me up to Twin Peaks. The views are magnificent (click on photo to see more).

As for the lecture, Joe Pon did a good job of organising everything and we had a good house. Joe has arranged countless lectures in his time, including most of the top names in the art, so I felt very honoured to be invited to lecture. I don't know what anyone else thought, but I enjoyed myself as usual. I think there is something inherently enjoyable about magic lectures (whether giving them or watching them). The atmosphere tends to be very good-natured, and it's nice to have the chance to share ideas and points of view. I was told I was the first lecturer who had ever worn a tie!

July 8. A Finale Of Worthwhile Extravagance.

For the finale of my visit to San Francisco, and indeed my entire 30 day 'West Out West' vacation, I allowed myself a rare and perhaps culpable extravagance. I flew all the way down to Long Beach to meet a friend for dinner on board the Queen Mary. Then I flew back to San Francisco, just so that I could fly back to England. This was quite an excursion for one dinner. What can I say? Some dinners, and some friends, are worth it. And the Queen Mary was just unbelievable.

This concluded my 10 days in San Francisco, the third and final part of my Way Out West vacation. I returned to England, knowing my memories of the trip would last forever.

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