A prison with a view

There's a former Alcatraz prisoner in the gift shop on the famous San Francisco prison island signing copies of his new book.

Apparently it's a great read for those who have burning questions about what life inside the prison was like.

But my one burning question is: What were you in for?

Am I in the gift shop with a murderer, rapist or other?

Alcatraz from San Francisco

Then other questions pop into my head.

Am I able to fling this stand of t-shirts over to defend myself?  Will this tower of souvenir mugs make suitable projectile weapons?  And just how strong are these Alcatraz key rings; could they be makeshift knuckle busters?

I'm clearly the only one thinking these things as the line get this prisoner's autograph is getting longer.

Approaching Alcatraz

There's a special irony to the fact that this prisoner, who no doubt longed for the day he would escape Alcatraz, is back here voluntarily making a buck off his experience.

As the saying goes: those who break the rules go to prison, those who break prison rules go to Alcatraz.

Today, Alcatraz has transcended from being a mere former prison to a symbol of captivity and inescapable hell.

View from the inside

The place stopped being a prison in the 1960s, and a couple of decades of degeneration add to the bleak and oppressive atmosphere.

But I'm surprised by what a lovely view it offers of San Francisco, it's bay and the Golden Gate Bridge.  A view that no doubt taunted the prisoners and reminded them of everything they were missing out on.

Inside a cell

The prison itself is also surprisingly small, thanks in part to the fact that the cells are so small, with just enough room for a toilet and bed.   I count about six three-storey rows of cells.  Central skylights above tease the prisoners about what might be happening outside.

Rows of prison cells

The prisoners' only taste of the outdoors was a relatively small, concreted "recreation space" - complete with water views.

The recreation space

Since the prison closed, the island has seen more activity than ever.

An American Indian occupation from 1969 to 1971 turned the spotlight on native rights, while today more than 5,000 people a day visit the Alcatraz as a tourist attraction (that's more than double the number of prisoners who ever spent time here during the decades of its operation as a prison).

You certainly get a sense of its popularity while waiting in the lengthy lines to board to the island ferry and to walk through the prison buildings.

Needless to say, there's a certain Alcatraz allure that keeps people coming... and lining up to talk to its former prisoners.

Peering over Pier 39

My friend who lives in San Francisco has vowed never to visit the city's "famous" Fisherman's Wharf again.

She sees it just a fabricated tourist trap lined with tacky stores, shows and attractions that is inundated by the masses.   And she's right.

But on my final morning in the city, I couldn't help but enjoy one show at Fisherman's Wharf that's continually underway: the sea lions at Pier 39.

For some reason, since 1989 sea lions have set up shop at Pier 39.  

You smell them before you see them, and they can make quite the racket as they lounge in the sun, play fight with each other, and dive in and out of the water.

They've become an attraction in their own right so a visit to see them will invariably involve navigating throngs of tourists.

But this morning, as I was up early on my way to catch a boat to Alcatraz, I stopped by Pier 39 and was one of only a dozen people watching them.

One sea lion was craning its neck to catch the day's first sun rays, while another was swimming around a jetty pylon and getting a free massage from the rough timber.

The sea lions are oblivious to the attention they create, but I love how they just decided to commandeer the pier, forcing the boats that used to anchor there to relocate.   

It's a small win for Mother Nature over us humans.

Licence plate to thrill

They don't mess around in the US state of New Hampshire.

While other states around America and the world adopt pithy little slogans to adorn their licence plates, New Hampshire keeps its real.  Really real.

Yes, that's right.  "Live Free or Die".

Now I'm no expert, but I'm confident the word "die" doesn't appear too often on licence plates around the world.

There also seems to be a range of decorative "Live Free or Die" options you can choose from if the moose option above doesn't pick your fancy.

You can also "Live Free or Die" with mountainside option 1

Or "Live Free or Die" with mountainside option 2

The words are actually the official motto of the state and comes from a speech written by a soldier during the American Revolutionary War.   Though apparently Vivre Libre ou Mourir ("Live free or die") was also a popular motto during the French Revolution, so the phrase may have its origin there.

Either way, it leaves the licence plate slogan of my home state Queensland, "The Sunshine State" (formerly "The Smart State" but we got dumb), in the shade.

Though just when I thought Queensland was being original, it seems this slogan is shared by another in the US.

And yes, now that you ask I have spent the past few days photographing licence plates.

I've been travelling from Boston to Montreal, travelling through Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Vermont and finally Quebec.

In between remembering to get into the left-hand side of the car and drive on the right-hand side of the road, I've been keeping check of licence plate slogans.

Awww - that's nice

Fun!

Worthy cause

Still working on it? 

How grand

I'm thinking Underwater World

"I believe the children are our future..."

Pretty

But New Hampshire means what it says.

Here, you don't need to wear a helmet when riding a motorbike (or a shirt it seems as I watched a chubby and elderly man cruise down the highway).

And if you're over 18 you don't have to wear a seatbelt, but if you've got a car like mine then it will beep incessantly until you buckle up.

There's also road signs pointing you in the direction of the nearest liquor and lottery stores.  How handy for those who like to drink and drive with the prospect of hitting the jackpot!

The never-ending Freedom Trail

There's a steady stream of people following a 4km red-brick path through the streets of Boston.

Welcome to The Freedom Trail - the city's pedestrian track that passes 16 locations deemed significant to the history of the United States.  

Boston's Old State House - that balcony was where the US Declaration of Independence was read for the first time

While I'm familiar with the broad overview of US history, I suspect some of the graveyards, churches, buildings, statues and even a ship mean more to Americans who have lived and breathed their country's history since birth.

Still, even a foreigner like myself can appreciate the events in Boston that led to the US Declaration of Independence and some of the first sparks of the anti-slavery movement.

However, one of the most surprising and interesting finds along the Freedom Trail is the New England Holocaust Memorial.

The New England Holocaust Memorial

It's striking as it is six tall glass columns - each one representing a major concentration camp -  made even more evocative with a continual flow of steam rising up through them.

One of the six columns

Each column attributed to a major concentration camp

Y

You can walk through the glass columns and note the six million numbers engraved onto the glass - each representing the six million Jews killed during the Holocaust.

The Boston connection?  Well, that's best explained by this eloquent inscription.

Between 1933 and 1945, the Nazis created a regime of hate and victimisation in Germany that eventually consumed most of Europe.  Driven by racists beliefs, they killed as many as 11 million men, women and children in their quest to dominate Europe and create a "pure and superior" race. 

The Nazis singled out the Jews for total extermination - their very existence to be erased from history and memory.  Before their defeat in 1945, the Nazi regime murdered 6 million Jews - more than half of Europe's Jewish population.

Those who have perished have been silenced forever.  Those who witnessed and survived the horrors carry with them the burden of memory.  Through their voices, we seek to comprehend the acts of inhumanity that can stem from seeds of prejudice.

To remember their suffering is to recognise the danger and evil that are possible whenever one group persecutes another.  As you walk this Freedom Trail, pause here to reflect on the consequences of a world in which there is no freedom - a world in which basic human rights are not protected.  And know that wherever prejudice, discrimination and victimisation are tolerated, evil like the Holocaust can happen again.

Any way but LA

My passport is primed and my bag is zipped.

Later this week I head to the US and I'm looking forward to exploring more of the country.

And if I'm really honest, I'm particularly looking forward to not travelling through Los Angeles.

I haven't disliked many places I've been to on my travels, but there's something about LA that has left me cold on the two occasions I've been there.

So much so that in planning this trip, I did extensive research on how I could avoid LA altogether - no mean feat given most flights from Australia go directly there.   That's why I've ended up travelling with Air New Zealand to San Francisco via Auckland.

Like most visitors, my first taste of LA began at the unfriendly and unpleasant LAX airport.   It's a place where both staff and travellers seem perpetually angry,  you seem to gravitate from one security screening queue to another, and where having a three-hour connection time might still be cutting it fine.

However, I appreciate that cities are more than their airports so I was willing to put that aside and keep an open mind to discover the delights of LA.

My first mistake was using the public transport - both rail and bus.   At the time this seemed like the logical option to explore the dense LA sprawl, but as I was to find out it involves encounters with snarky bus drivers and crazed commuters casually hurling abuse at each other.  

LA Union Station

It wasn't long after stepping on board my first train into town during broad daylight that I started to feel decidedly unsafe.  I've wandered the streets of Cairo at midnight, trained through Russia, and journeyed through Turkey, India and Morocco, but I realised it was probably here on this suburban LA train that I would meet my end.

Walt Disney Concert Hall in Downtown LA

Arriving in Downtown LA did little to calm my nerves.   It was a midday on a weekday and there were plenty of people around, but everyone seemed so hostile.

The mood shifted from angry to desperation when I arrived at Hollywood Boulevard.

The Walk of Fame and Chinese Theatre were there to greet me, along with a bunch of terrible impersonators pressuring passersby for a tip and people trying to sell bus tours of movie stars' homes (well, of movie stars' high fences and thick hedges anyway).  While the Hollywood sign might have been in the distance, I felt as though I had encountered more movie glitz and glamour in the frozen vegetable aisle of my local supermarket.

Having given up all hope of finding anything attractive about LA, I headed to Santa Monica.  In comparison to the rest of LA, this place is a small slice like heaven.   With a nice beach and pedestrian-friendly streets, this little enclave feels like somewhere you might want to actually spend some time.

Now I'm willing to admit that maybe I've completely missed all the amazing things LA has to offer.   But for now, I'm happy to do without and avoid the place completely.