fuck, I don't know what to write.

to San Francisco

Road trip is an extended trip in a motor vehicle.

- Merriam Webster

Whatever road trip means, the dandelions were fine and we were cool. We drove through the furthest possible route to San Francisco from Sacramento via venues of all kinds: calm bushes, still and quiet neighbourhoods, golden hills, a famous theme park with an obvious roller-coaster track and some turn-offs. Driving to San Francisco should not take that long but taking the easy route is boring. We wanted a road-trip and therefore we consulted the locals with strange minds like ours. We drew the strangest possible route and we rocked.

We stopped at some places,

you oughta know – Applebee’s

I was told that this place is good. I believed so I went. And yes it was good: good ambient, good service, good food and good everything. They named it Applebee’s and I don’t know why; I saw neither an apple nor a bee on the menu. I noticed apple symbols though beside some items on the menu and I asked why. The waitress told me that those were the favourites and I picked one of them for myself. Came my Fiesta Lime Chicken, coated with cheese on the bed of coloured stripped chips. I had one my hand feeding me the chicken and the other one picking up chips. I was occupied.

I was kept telling the folks around me about my past life stories/craps. "I think I was a Mexican in my past life. I am attracted this much to their food," I told them when I was in a Mexican restaurant. And when I was around the local chicks, I mumbled "I think I was an American in my past life." And finally when I was in Dubai, "I think I was an Arabian, I like their turbans!"

Now who said Sacramento is a small town? They have all the American top food franchises here. The California State Capitol is somewhere here. And they even own their own TV station! I am so going to be occupied, most of the time with food.



old old Sacramento

It was in Sutter’s Mill where James Marshall spotted the flecks of gold, the reason behind the greatest human migration in American history, from everywhere else to Sacramento. And that was like 160 years ago. I am now in the Old Sacramento sniffing around for the history, stepping back in time and celebrating the Californian heat.

Here the railway meets the Delta, the entrance of the waterway interconnecting San Joaquin, American and Mokelumne rivers. The languid river that flows in mother of all silence is where the famous Delta King Hotel in a shape of a pretty ship docked for years now. The Tower Bridge is a vertically lifted bridge across the Sacramento River, painted in gold because the earlier silver was complained to be glaring.

Given a chance, I would like to hover upon this city and watch these in gaiety, but I am without the benefit of parachutes or not even a chicken wing. Driving in US can be somewhat freaky as I am driving on the other side of the road, the total opposite compared to where I came from but in Sacramento town it is indeed much easier. You don’t see many cars in here, almost a ghost town I would say. But again, not really; sometimes these people these cars come from God-knows-where.

Somewhere in the centre of Sacramento, near the Old Sacramento is where The California State Capitol is and this is where the Californian governor sits. The beaming white that envelopes it, the dome, the "Stars and Stripes" and the building as whole was splendid in appearance!

the lazy song

Today I don't feel like doing anything
I just wanna lay in my bed

Don't feel like picking up my phone
so leave a message at the tone

'Cause today I swear I'm not doing anything

I'm gonna kick my feet up then stare at the fan

Turn the TV on, throw my hand in my pant
Nobody's gon' tell me I can't

- Bruno Mars, The Lazy Song