Today I went on tourist strike ...

... But only after we visited the ROCK.
On the ride over, a boat trip tinged with some fear, given I'd had bacon & eggs & breakfast potatoes and a sausage for breakfast, Mr Brown treated himself to a muffin. Apparently they were "too cheap to knock back".
There it is, looming out of the sea.

After a brief orientation, we started wandering up to the cell block. Snapping away as we meandered.

Because it was surprisingly beautiful in places.

But horrible in others. I don't mind small spaces but I would mind being locked in one of these 23 hours a day.

This is the cell of the notorious Birdman of Alcatraz. Locked away from the general population because he was so terribly beastly to his fellow humans. Biting them was not out of the question apparently.

Disturbingly, Alcatraz smelled like home.

Seeing this reminded me, I've yet to try tequila.

And then back to the hotel. The plan had been to hop a trolley car and go up a hill. But the trolley car we intended to ride was out of action, for 4 hours. When Mr Brown asked when the 4 hours was up he was told to look at the sign. "Yes, I can see the sign, but when did the 4 hours start?" "In 4 hours man".

At this point I rebelled, whined a bit and had my way, a little lie down and something cold to drink. After all, I've got to get ready for tonight. A dress may be worn.