Wednesday, June 5, 2024

TBJ_17 Get off the freeway man! Yes, officer!

White sheets in Palo Alto, in the valley of fast thinkers, Silicon Valley. That's where he wanted to go! 

Both were in the drawer of the bedside table, the screen is better on the Bible

The chronicler is lucky. His accommodation for the last two days is a charming, well-kept motel that is at least fifty years old with a suitably spacious room, mature trees in the courtyard and a pool in which you don't immediately hit your head when you turn round because it is so shallow. He's surrounded by hostels that would have sucked four or eight hundred dollars a night out of his card. His Pakistani hostel warden has gone against his habit of being bargained with, so in the end this doesn't even really hurt. The companies around him and their clientele are on a different level.

The chronicler says here from his point of view: This last tour today has crowned the whole thing worthily. He set off early because of the wind forecast.

And because it was on the doorstep, of course on the freeway. It wasn't long before he passed a police car with customers at the side of the road. As he drove past, he heard something like: Get off the freeway man.

He wasn't on the blue line anyway and thought not to overdo it and drove a few metres further off the motorway. 

Before a set of traffic lights, he heard that short howl that you've heard a thousand times in American films and when he turned round, he had the corresponding image. Flashing red and blue lights, a dogde in white, an officer in khaki. He could already see himself in a cell. "You can't drive on the freeway. ID please." "Can you hold the bike please?". He has the ID in his rucksack. "ID please". Before this became an endless loop, he clamped the bike between his legs and dug out the ID. Where I would live. Somehow you always have to worry about getting homeless people here. In the end, he understands the chronicler's journey, goes to the car and has the details checked. 

Yes, officer. Thank you officer

It's a good thing the chronicler in Washington doesn't have an entry yet. He received a warning that he wouldn't have to go to court, and in the end they worked out the cycling alternative together in Google. Yes, you've experienced that too.

He is really grateful to the officer. This forced diversions led through farmland. The chronicler saw almond trees bearing almonds for the first time in his life and guessed from the size of the field why this is a cheap mass product and not, as he knows it, a rather expensive ingredient in baking.

Endless almond tree plantations

They are watered through an artificial water channel. 

Water, far from the south

It didn't have to stay on track in the roar of the freeway, it cranked nicely over land. It was really lively on bends and even under trees. 

He was still a long way from his destination, but he was already feeling a little sentimental, happy about this little stroke of luck and from here onwards he was actually just driving wet. He had to cry a little at every opportunity that seemed like a nice coincidence. 

Paradise after a thousand kilometres of desert

Fennel break, wild and delicious

Just before he thought he was drying out, luck brought him a small Mexican snack bar at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere. It didn't seem to be nowhere at all. A large number of fellow road cyclists turned up to get some exercise before the midday heat. Fremont is just round the corner.

He could have had fresh, grilled meat in whole ribs, he preferred corn porridge in a banana leaf

Somehow it seems to do the chronicler good to watch what he eats. He had slept pretty well that night and put this down to the two meat-free, spicy ready meals in paper cups that he had bought in Tracy in an Indian supermarket around the corner.

It was threatening to get hot again today and the chronicler had to move on. Heat warnings are currently being issued in California. The magic mark is 100° Fahrenheit, which equates to 38° Celsius. He recalled a television moment in a snack bar outside Las Vegas. The last few years there, between 60 and 80 days a year had exceeded this limit. For the chronicler, the reference to the all-time record for this limit crossing was particularly interesting. It took place in 1947 with 100 days. And the chronicler knows that this was also extraordinary in Germany. An elderly lady from his village, who has since died, told how they had to drive the cows into ditches out of sheer necessity to find any grass at all. 

In this more civilised area, cyclists also have more rights. What a nice feeling to not just be tolerated.

You could say that there is still a lot of room for improvement in this respect in this country

Yes, and then he was suddenly there. And almost a little disappointed. The Google main building, a rather unspectacular brick building from the outside. The reception is smaller and more modest than most hotel lobbies he has experienced here, but miraculously just as accessible, even with a bike in hand. It was precisely this unspectacular entrance to the company that made him like it even more.


He had a pretty big lump in his throat when he explained to the woman behind the desk that he had done this and that. And maybe one of the CEOs would happen to be in the building, with whom he could talk for a few minutes, from the other end of the food chain of this, in his eyes, extraordinary company. You can think like that, but it doesn't have to work. It didn't and he admits that it was a pretty daft idea.

Christian couldn't let him into the building either, but he was happy for the chronicler and really wanted a selfie. The chronicler would say that Christian didn't answer the standard question out of polite reticence

In order to provide his followers with at least a presentable sight at the end, he drove around the corner to the visitor centre. Google did not build the inconspicuous headquarters itself, but took it over from a bankrupt shop and only remodelled the inside. The building here, of which the visitor centre is only a small part, is one of the first office buildings to be built quite spectacularly according to Google's own ideas.

Yes, and this is where his line along the thirty-eighth ends.

Thank you!!!

Thank you already, Lea!!! Without you this wouldn't be here.

He's flying back the day after tomorrow. He's really looking forward to home and the people there. On the plane he'll have time to think up an epilogue and when he gets home he'll analyse his survey somehow. Tomorrow he'll crank through the neighbourhood of Microsoft, NASA, Apple and co. and won't bother you with it. He still has to get three rolls of household foil and hopes that the people at DELTA Airlines are happy with it. Until then.

Stay tuned a little longer.

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