Moral Turpitude

Well readers, you will be pleased (hopefully) to learn that MT are alive and kicking. The near-death experience on the road to California left the boys shaken, but with a new-found respect for life and an urge to enjoy however much they have left of it to the full.

That feeling didn’t last long as Nick and Pete entered the over-liberal, hippie-loving, pot-smoking waste of space they call San Francisco. Now, you may think that this introduction is a little harsh. It isn’t. Nick and Pete are hardly what you would call Liberal Democrat voters, but in the right-leaning world of American politics they would naturally lean towards the Democratic party. Not any more. SF has turned the boys into hippie-hating (they already were that), gun-slinging (if they were allowed to have one), red-necked (more from sun burn than anything else) Republicans.

This is a city which needs a modern day Barry Goldwater (whose policies, it has been said, were somewhere to the right of Adolf Hitler’s) to pick it up, give it a good shake and get rid of the rottenness.

The boys spent their first two nights in a crappy, run-down hostel in an area littered with crack-dens and tramps. They then moved to a better hostel near the financial district where they were shown a map of the city by the friendly receptionist, who drew on the map all the good places to go and visit. The first thing she did was draw a big box around the area where the boys had been staying previously and then proceed to colour it in saying ‘Whatever you do, don’t go there.’

The map was finally completed one intensely tedious hour later and Nick and Pete sat down and mulled it over. Where to go for a drink and some dinner? Either to one of the many places where the hippie’s live and idle around singing and smoking pot? Or to the area where the tramps and prostitutes hang out? Or perhaps the gay district would be fun? Nowhere on the map had any appeal whatsoever.

In fact, MT spent the next two days trying to find a bar where there were some hetrosexual women. In vain. The city is the gay capital of the world and there just didn’t seem to be any popular bars in it. Despite taking advice from countless natives, no appropriate bar was found after 2 days and nights of looking. Unbelievable.

The highlight was the 25 mile bike ride undertaken across the city. Mostly, there were just hippies. But the boys did cross the Golden Gate bridge (although an appallingly-timed fog meant that they could only see 20 yards in front of them) and go down the only winding street in America. They also met Molly. The one shining light of virtue and respectability in an entire city. She was a beautiful Irish girl from Cork and she lit up Nick and Pete’s lives up for the 20 minutes it took them to rent their bicycles from her. And so SF will always be remembered in the boys hearts as the city where Molly lived. And for that, and that alone, it is a great city which they love.