Day 1 (7/9/2008)
E arrives. Much excitement follows … come back to sweltering apartment. Crank up the AC. E complains that silk sheets are too hot. Chat until 2 am about nothing at all. Love being a sister. Try and get Mos Mos to google chat and be part of the sister fun, but she’s not around.
Day 2 (7/10/2008)
Up at 5 am to catch plane to SF. Three hours of sleep, so very light headed. Much to the consternation of Steve, the accountant type chap sitting next to us, E and I giggle all the way from Boston to SF. Thank you Jet Blue for Direct TV - Paula Dean makes rubbish brunch on her cooking show – cause for giggles. John the elf-like steward breezes up and down the aisle – cause for more giggles. Anyway, finally reach SF, drive off to B’s beautiful home in Palo Alto. It’s wood and glass, and weaves through the garden, which has plum trees, lemon trees and a hammock – yes, a hammock! Into which I promptly jump and fall asleep (they don’t call me napster for nothing). This is the life.
Day 3 (7/11/2008)
Morning walk by the bay with B & E – Cousins talk, share stories. Birds chirp, morning joggers and dog walkers say hello, squirrels scamper across the path. And pelicans fish in the shallow waters. Hard to believe that civilization is only half a mile away. Eat lunch at bad Middle Eastern restaurant in down town Palo Alto. Walk past Borders book store (which brings back a flood of memories of past walks down these same roads).
Ride the Caltrain into the city – it’s the eve of the big walk. I am excited and wonder whether I’ll be able to complete the whole thing.
Day 4 (7/12/2008)
Up at 4:00 am. In line at 5:00 for the bus to Golden Gate park. There are hundreds of walkers and they all have friends. I feel alone and a little scared. E takes pictures and sends me off.
The park is alive and buzzing with thousands of walkers. We set off at 7:00. Our escorts, the San Jose police, have very sweetly dyed their shirts (and socks) pink in support. Teams of cheerers cheer as we walk through the city. Through Presidio and over the bridge - I’ve never walked the bridge before, and am amazed at the wonder that is the suspension bridge. The official color of the bridge, I am told, is international orange – another little piece of trivia to tuck away into the crevices of my brain. I stare down at the freezing waters of the Pacific and over at Alcatraz. A cargo ship floats by below while in contrast, tiny sail boats dot the crisp blue water.
Over to the other side and into Sausalito. I can see how Otis Redding was inspired to write “dock on the bay … wasting time”. I can so picture myself watching the tide roll in. It is a picturesque little town. On the other side, San Francisco gleams white in the morning sun.
I walk past a store selling antique books – no, excuse me, not just any old antique books, but “fine” antique books. I hadn’t realized that there were other “unfine” kinds. There’s a cobbler and a home made ice cream parlor. The locals stand out on their balconies and cheer us along.
So far so good – still enjoyable, still walking jauntily with a spring in my step. Teams have creative names like “Dudes for boobs”, “Save second base”, “Walkers for knockers”, etc. You get the drift. Some women wear fake boobs outside their clothes – superman style – just for our entertainment … hmmm …
Out of Sausalito – ten miles down, 16 to go.
Lunch time calls for lots of stretching and foot pressing, which gives me a burst of energy and I continue on with renewed gusto. Walk over to Mill Valley, where interestingly, a Boston expatriate has strawberries out for us. One of my fellow walkers spat hers out when she noticed the Red Sox banner over the garage. Ingrate!!
Mile 18 – Trudging along, but starting to wear out, so I make conversation with random people to keep me going.
Mile 23 - OK, who picked the 220 foot climb up to the bridge for this stage of the walk?
Onward we go – I see the camp on the other side of the bridge, blue tents beckoning on the shore. Bedraggled and tired, I walk past hundreds of perky tourists and want some of their cheery energy. One foot in front of the other.
Mile 25: So close and yet so far. Feet really, really hurt.
Mile 26: Finally – back at camp. People along the wayside cheer. I smile wearily, as I lumber in. Stretch out, ice feet, take hot shower (thank you Avon for providing hot showers), eat enough for three people. Set up tent with my tent mate Debra, who is a survivor.
8:15 pm – Fast asleep.
Day 5 (7/13/2008)
Up at 6:00. Pack up tent and other stuff. 7:30 am – three thousand women walk again. This time it is through the city. Some people can only go the first couple of miles and then have to be taken back. I hope I can go the distance.
We walk through Marina with its picture windows looking out at the ocean. And the hills – well, the interesting thing is that I start looking forward to the hills only because my calves and hamstrings are so tired from walking that working the quads as I climb the hills is a welcome relief. Even at mile 34, the Portero hills are beautiful with their views of the city skyline.
Mile 36 – In auto pilot mode now. I start singing to myself for inspiration. Like Dory in Finding Nemo – just keep walking, just keep walking
Mile 38 – E, Buddu and Aditya are here to welcome me in. Gosh!! Am I happy to see them. They walk the last mile in with me.
Finally, it’s the closing ceremony. 300 survivors walked with us that day, and I realize that although I started out walking for my mother, we were all walking for each other.
Tears stream down my face as people share their stories and checks are handed out to the various beneficiaries.
3500 women, 40 miles, and two days of porta potties raised 7.2 million dollars.
Back to Palo Alto and sleep.
Day 6 (7/14/2008)
E and I rent a convertible to drive out to Sonoma. OK California, here come the Almeida sisters! In Sonoma, and driving with the top down. I’ve never seen myself as a convertible kind of girl – I suppose I learn new things about myself every day. The Renaissance Lodge is sweet and luxurious.
We go to a mini tasting hosted by some of the smaller vineyards. The owner of Richardson wineries says “this young lady knows her wines”. It was a fine compliment coming from him. But yes!! – I pretend well, I suppose – both at being a young lady, and at knowing about wine. Note to traveler: if you see a wine you like, check if it is sold retail, because you may not be able to buy it back home. Or if it is, you may sometimes get it at a cheaper price. I like the Chandelle’s Estraie Sauvignon Blanc, and regret that I did not buy a bottle. Also like the Muscat Cannelli – again,
We drive out to Gloria Ferrer, sit out on the porch, atop a hillock with a panoramic view of Sonoma, sipping sparkling wine and enjoying the good life. I get a brut, E gets a rose. This is the life! Back to hotel, enjoy steamy hot tub followed by fabulous dinner at Carneros.
E and I have a little spat – I guess some things never change.
Back to hotel – E is thrilled to just have ownership of the remote and able to watch TV uninterrupted by the word “mom”
Day 7 (7/15/2008)
Drive aimlessly around Sonoma – convertible top down – yippee dee. Stop at Chateau St. Jean and Ledson. Would have loved to also visit some of the more obscure wineries that are not on the map – next time, perhaps. Picked up delicious strawberries from small farm on the wayside. Time to head back to the city and reality.
Stop at Muir woods on the way back - Redwoods soar above us and sunlight sneaks in between the towering branches, casting patterns of light and shadow on the ground.
Back to SF – stuck in two hours of traffic on the 101 – yes, a jarring jolt back to real life.
Red eye back to Boston – end of another fabulous trip.
