The alarm didn't sound but Ian woke at 09:00. After showering we wrote our journals which took us to 12:30 at which point we decided to have some food and make the most of the last day of our trip.
We had another late breakfast at another diner along Mason Street where I enjoyed runny eggs that ran all over my fingers as they burst in between my slices of toast.
Towards the end of my meal I gazed out of the window. San Francisco seems to have its fair share of homeless people, all of which that we have encountered being very friendly, patient, cold and hungry people, mostly men. None of them have been rude or discourteous. What caught my eye as I discarded the remains of my breakfast was a man across the street carefully opening a discarded carton of food that he had removed from reaching into a bin. He opened it up, visually inspected it, the contents seemed to satisfy his immediate desire, and continued to cross the street. He didn't bother anyone. No one else seemed to notice him. But he had tugged on my heart strings. I immediately thought of a book I recently read, John Grisham's The Street Lawyer. I also thought back to our trip, trying to remember the last time we encountered a homeless mother begging, and I couldn't remember, maybe it was Thailand, maybe South Korea. Yesterday I thought about if I met four people each day who asked me for a quarter, could I afford it? Of course I could. Even in my current employment, unemployment, I could spare GBP 0.80 per day. And if I were handing out money directly to those who need it not only would I feel fantastic about it but four people would be pleased and the money would stand a better chance of reaching those people who need it. A man I also saw today was holding a door open to people, as a kind gesture but also in the hope that they might spare him a quarter. Also, on another occasion, as I crossed the street, a disabled man held up a sign reading 'Hi.' As he turned it over, it then read 'smile.' That made me smile. Why shouldn't we smile? What have we possibly got to feel unhappy about?
After eating we went to CompUSA and had a mooch about then plodded around some shops in the immediate vicinity of Union Square. We had a brief stroll to the Moscone Convention Centre and the Sony Metreon building. A coffee in Golden Gate Perk enabled us to check our e-mail and United Airlines Mileage Plus accounts. I am still missing the miles from my Emirates Airlines and Aloha Airlines flights and the miles from the Avis car rental, sadly.
We continued wandering around shops, somewhat unsuccessfully as we had no idea where to go, and I only managed to get a soft toy for my friends' newborn baby. Disappointed and cold we returned to our favourite retreat, Borders, where we spent a couple of hours. I bought an appealing book on scuba diving while Ian lost himself in magazines.
At 19:45 we faced the cold again and searched for somewhere to eat, eventually settling for Lori's diner again. It would do. Back in the hostel I began to pack for the last time and we exchanged the clothes that we have been carrying around for each other for thirty one weeks. We soon realised the impact of the next two days and Ian hugged me close, which drew more tears from me, which in turn made silent tears roll down Ian's face too. The coming weekend would be full of emotions, a rollercoaster of joy and sadness, familiarity and alienation, excitement and dismay, hope and disappointment.
Ian just told me that as it is 23:00 we will be at Heathrow in 30 hours. It doesn't seem possible. But then I remember saying that in the last week of September as our departure date drew near. That was over seven months ago. Although we have done so much, seen so many things, photographed more, and had such memorable experiences, the large majority seem so long ago, even Hawaii, but I don't feel like I've been away for over seven months. Perhaps I will feel that way when I return home.
Copyright 2003 Helen Fuller. All rights reserved.