What is the best card for secondary / un-bonused spend?

Historically, my goal has been to earn flexible airline miles with my primary spend and earn hotel points with my un-bonused spend. When I first got into the game, I got a Reserve card and converted my Freedom card to a Freedom Unlimited. As a compromise to adding a platinum, I downgraded the Reserve and since then have been looking for the same quality pairing. I’ve tried several combinations, but they’ve all had some weaknesses. For the last year and a half, I’ve been using a combination of FIVE different cards to maximize my spending. I might have been maximizing, but it’s gotten out of hand.

In this post, I want to explore the different options and share the criteria I have when considering a secondary card. I look for four things in my secondary card:

The first thing I wanted to have was a combination of card issuers. So, if my primary card was the American Express Gold card, then I wanted to complement it with a Visa or Mastercard.

This goes without saying, but I wasn’t willing to accept a cash-back card as my secondary card. There are several good cash back options, but I want the opportunity to maximize the points like I do my spending, and I don’t want to hedge my opportunities against a fixed rate.

The next requirement I wanted to have was a card that had no foreign exchange fees, so when we traveled, I wouldn’t have to change my spending patterns. Whenever we travel, I either end up putting all my spend on one card, accepting that those Japanese egg salad and chicken teriyaki sandwiches will be unbonused, or I choose a card that I wouldn’t normally spend on, then need to remember to go check the balance when we get home. The result is that I change my mind several times throughout the trip and nothing gets executed well. 

Finally, I wanted complementary spending categories. For instance, since American Express isn’t as widely accepted, I needed my secondary card to have similar bonuses in case I decide to eat somewhere that doesn’t accept American Express like Cook Out or Little Caesar’s. Ideally, the secondary card should have other bonus categories that the primary card doesn’t, like fitness, or other travel categories.

Ultimately, I use four criteria:

1. Earn airline miles and hotel points 
2. Combination of card issuers
3. No Foreign Exchange fee
4. Complementary bonus categories

There are several quality cards available to consider:

• Freedom Unlimited
• Citi Doublecash
• Hilton Honors Amex Surpass Credit Card
• Marriott Boundless from Chase
• Hyatt Card from Chase

Flexible No Annual Fee Options:

Ultimately, the real limitation here is that both the Freedom Unlimited and the Doublecash card accrue foreign exchange fees. They work fine in the States, but they’re part of the problem. That’s a deal-breaker for me. If either one of them were to have no foreign transaction fees, that would be a game-changer.

Hotel Credit Card Options:

Hilton

The Hilton Honors card (with a $95 annual fee) checks 3 of the 4 boxes: no foreign exchange fee, earns hotel points, and combination of card issuers. Unfortunately, the bonus categories are the same as the Gold Card: groceries, restaurants, and airfare (and of course a bonus on Hilton stays). Since I wouldn’t be able to capitalize on these categories, and because it’s from the same issuer, the bonus categories are a wash. 

Hilton points are worth about .04 cents each, so with a 6x bonus on the 3 categories above, that’s the equivalent of a 2.4% return, which is not special. Even at 12 points per dollar Hilton, that’s just a 4.8% return, for which the return of the Citi Premier card is better: 5.4%. You wouldn’t want to use the Hilton card to pay for your Hilton stays!

Marriott

Unfortunately, Marriott’s return is basically the same; on the Marriott Boundless card, you earn 2 points for every dollar spent and 6 points per dollar at Marriott. Marriott’s points are worth roughly twice as much as a Hilton point, so your general return is worse: 1.6%, while your return for nights at Marriott is still 4.8%. 

Otherwise, this is a card that seems to check the boxes; it’s a Visa, with no foreign exchange fees, and “bonuses” almost as well as the Doublecash card, except that card, even without converting to Thank You points, offers a better return.

On the other hand, if you don’t want to stomach another annual fee, the Marriott Bold card is intriguing. Its return is not great, but it has no foreign exchange fees, is a Visa, and bonuses 2x on travel expenses and 1x on everything else. The return is limited, but you won’t have to change your spending patterns when you go abroad.

Hyatt

Finally, there’s the Hyatt card. World of Hyatt points are the most valuable hotel points out there. They don’t quite have the upside of airline arbitrage opportunities or the flexibility of the SPG card, but they’re more consistent than most airlines. I value Hyatt points at 2.1 cents per point, so while it only has a return of 1 point per dollar on most purchases, it does significantly better than its competitors for your average daily spend.

Additionally, it has very complementary bonus categories. First, it has the usual suspects: airfare and restaurants are each bonused at 2x, giving a return of 4.2%! It also has additional bonus categories: fitness & ride-share, public transportation, both earn 2x points. Finally, it bonuses 4x at Hyatt hotels, or 8.4%. None of the other cards even get close to that! Granted, Hyatt is by far the smallest, so they must work harder for your loyalty.

Conclusion:

Ultimately, my card strategy over the last year and a half has been a series of complications of trying to maximize spending and has spiraled out of control. I wanted a card that provided me 4 things: no foreign transaction fees, access to hotel points, a combination of card issuers, and complementary bonus categories to my primary card.

The Hyatt Card for World of Hyatt seems to have the best return and unique categories. While this analysis doesn’t consider the benefits you receive from any of these cards, in terms of strict ROI for spend, the Hyatt card should make sense for most people. Even if you don’t stay at Hyatt that often, if you’re saving up for an aspirational destination like the Maldives or Sydney, Hyatt has you covered.

If you don’t want to pay for an additional annual fee, you might consider the Marriott Bold card. It bonuses on travel and thus complements the Citi Premier card, while having no additional foreign exchange fee. It could be the right card for you if you have yet to see the value of paying an annual fee.

Vienna waits for you

The original plan was simple: fly to San Francisco, then to Frankfurt, and then get a discounted ticket (a ZED fare) on Lufthansa to Vienna, since United doesn't actually fly there. The way back? Also simple: Vienna to Geneva, then Dulles and on to Salt Lake. 3 legs each, short layovers, maximum time working and vacationing. In this case, my plan fell apart about a week before I was going to leave. As I was trying to make my reservation on Lufthansa, I found out that I wasn't able to fly on most European airlines without my dad - since he's basically my "sponsor" and I'm not a "dependent" I'm a "travel companion" - a small, but vital difference. I cannot overstate how devastating it was to find out that I couldn't just fly directly into Vienna. The cost of the trip was going to go up significantly. 

Additionally, coming closer and closer to the travel date, that flight, and all flights to Europe began to be incredibly oversold. Some flights were oversold by more than 20 people. Needless to say, those were not flights I even considered trying to get on, but the flight from San Francisco to Frankfurt didn't look good either. I decided it would be best if I flew to London and then hopped on Ryan Air, which is a *very* low-cost carrier to get as close to Vienna as possible. Paji suggested I take Ryan Air from Stansted to Bratislava, Slovakia, which is about 50 minutes east from Vienna. Further complicating this was the fact that I was going to be flying into Heathrow. With the plan to get there in place, the plan to get back was another hassle. Since I couldn't just go to the airport, I had to get to an airport United flies from. The closest option seemed to be Munich. You may be wondering, and rightfully so, why I didn't just fly into Munich in the first place. That is a great question. The flights to Munich were all full the day I left, as well. London was literally my only option to get across the Atlantic. 

With all the travel planning, I neglected basic planning. Like packing. I figured I could pack at 10pm the night before and then be in bed by 11. It seemed feasible at the time. However, when I got home from dinner around 930 to start packing, I realized I needed to do laundry. I didn't have enough clothes to get me through the trip. So, I went to the laundromat. I finished at 11; then I realized the cologne and body mist Paji asked me to buy were too big to carry-on. I thought I was being clever by going to wal-mart and buying some 300 ml bottles. The original idea was to twist off the cap and put it into the bottles, but Victoria's Secret had other ideas. They had a metal clasp over the top, so you couldn't just twist it off. I got out my pocket knife and carved a hole into the top (and another one to let it breathe). Then funneled the mist into the bottles, which left our apartment smelling like flowers. I was only 2 hours late to bed. When I got to Vienna and show Paji my handi-work, I found out they were gifts from his girlfriend to her family members, so even my ingenuity was wasted.

I only encountered one problem the next morning. Compared to the planning issues I encountered previously, it wasn't a big deal at all. My alarm didn't go off. I normally wake up around 630 and then again around 745, with or without my alarm. Thankfully, my regularity was in full force, and my body woke itself up right at 745 (impressive, I know). I went to get my friend (who would be driving my truck back so I wouldn't have to park it) and drove to the airport. Once at the gate, I checked the loads and realized that the flight to Dulles had a seat open in first class, so standing right in front of the gate, I "re-listed" myself and paid the $20 for first class. The gate agent then checked me in for the flight and handed me the boarding pass. I was very excited; I hadn't flown first class for quite some time (since I went to Hawaii). 

While i was on the plane to Dulles, I got to watch tv (all about the Supreme Court ruling) and then the soccer game started! The whole point of the trip was to visit Paji and watch Germany win the Euro Cup together. As the plane was landing, Italy scored its 2 goals (right before half-time). I was devastated. I had two hours before the first flight to London left (out of 3). The flight was oversold in coach by 8, but showed 12 available in first class/business, so net 3 open seats and I'm number 8 on the list - all I needed was for 5 people not to show up. No big deal, really. Now, I'm not exactly sure what happened in the next two hours. The gate agent was freaking out; like a full-blown panic attack. She was calling people up to the podium, asking people to take a waiver, then saying she didn't need them and it was just a Charlie Foxtrot. Like seriously. The plane didn't even finish boarding until 10 minutes after the flight was supposed to leave. Up to this point, the only stand-by who had made the flight was the guy in the jump seat. The gate crew were in the process of transferring our reservations to the 6:49 flight when one of the flight attendants pops his head out of the jetway door and said that they actually had 6 open seats that were reserved for crew rest, but that the plane was equipped with bunks, so they didn't need the seats. This caused a crazy amount of activity while the gate agents tried to pull our reservations back from the next flight and they wanted us to each give them a boarding pass. Fortunately or unfortunately *mostly fortunately*, I hadn't printed out my boarding pass because I had it on my phone, so I handed them an old boarding pass from a couple trips ago. 

We were just getting settled onto the plane, with me in the middle seat of the back, when one of the gate agent comes and tells me I gave him the wrong boarding pass. I told him I knew that, but I thought they just needed any pass in order to prove I was who I said I was. He told me I'd have to get off the plane because they couldn't find my reservation. So I grab my bag and have very mixed emotions about getting off the plane. On the one hand, maybe I'd get a better seat on the next flight with everyone in front of me on this plane. On the other hand, I'd almost always rather have a seat on one plane than wait to try again on the next.

Back at the gate, they told me that since they had already transferred the reservations over, they couldn't find me without the proper confirmation number (so it was really like all their fault anyway). As I mentioned before, everyone on the list in front of me was now sitting in coach on that plane while I went over to the new flight to see if I could get on. I did. It was a great flight. There was one hang up: there. WERE. NO. PRETZEL. ROLLS!!! Utter disappointment. Devastation. What's the point of flying Business Class if I can't get pretzel rolls?! Devastated. Pretzel rolls are probably the thing I look forward to the most when traveling and THEY. DIDN'T. HAVE. ANY. However, I did make friends with the flight attendant. There was one really fun part. Standbys in business have a dress code - button up shirt, leather shoes, can't wear jeans. So, I ask if it's alright if i change shirts so I don't wrinkle mine. She leans in and is like, 'I don't care, but don't ask anyone else'. So I go to change, and she's like, do you want to hang up your shirt?' 

'Yeah, that'd be great," I say. So I go and change and as I come out of the lav, I say, 'yeah, I'd like this steamed and pressed in the morning. K thx'.

I had a 7 hour layover in London. At first I was thinking I could go see downtown walk around and take in the pre-olympic, middle of Wimbledon vibe. Then I realized that I didn't have any place to put my bag and decided just to head to the other airport. Stansted isn't a bad airport. It's out in the middle of nowhere and probably operating at less than half capacity, but it has decent shopping and dining options and wifi, so I was mostly content. Until I got on the plane. I don't know if anyone has flown on Ryan Air before, but talk about cheap. Wow. I was impressed with the capability and professionalism of the pilots. However, the cabin was super cramped. I could barely fit my legs in my seat. Apparently, they know that's a problem though, because the seatbacks were hard plastic, so you couldn't jam your knees into the back of the seat. For a two hour flight, it's not awful. I wouldn't want to fly on them for anything longer than that, though. I know, I know; I'm such a snob. Also! Ryan Air provides an assortment of beverages and snacks for sale throughout the flight - nothing is free; a 12 oz can of Pepsi (barf) is 2,50. 

I landed in Bratislava around 9:30pm. The bus to Vienna wasn't for another hour. A couple of British guys approached me and asked if I'd be interested in splitting a cab, even if it'd be a few euros more. After weighing the pros and cons of it, I decided to take the cab with three strangers. Scenes from Taken were flashing through my mind, then I remembered a)I'm a guy and b)they wouldn't know where I stayed. We chit-chatted about stuff and eventually we arrived in Vienna and met up with Paji. On Friday night. 30 hours after I left Salt Lake. 

Sometimes writing these things is really difficult; the thing that rings true is more the actual travel story than what I saw/did. I guess more ironically, I took more pictures of the things I saw, but I can't show you pictures of the crazy gate agent or even the really nice flight attendant. It was the first time I've ever gone to visit a friend internationally, and I'm sure you all know this, but having a friend is way more fun than going by myself - especially because Paji speaks great English, so he could communicate for me (despite the fact most Germans speak English, they didn't understand my ideas or share my need for ice). I'm definitely a fan. I had a great time on my trip, I got to go into the Viennese countryside and see a monastery and have dinner at a vineyard, where I had the best grape juice ever. I saw the old town, Sissy's palace (the hunting lodge from the pictures), we went swimming in the Danube. Vienna has a ton of amazing museums and tons and tons of culture. It was voted 5 years in a row city with best Quality of Life and I can see why. I was there during the hottest days on record, without air conditioning, but it was good. I'm from Florida. I can take hot and humid. I sweated like crazy and there was no ice or air conditioning, but otherwise, it was great. It was an amazing vacation. 

Unfortunately, i encountered a ton of bad luck on the way home. Even before I started for home, it started. The original plan was to take a ride share to munich, and then couch surf in munich: total cost - $26. However, it all fell through at the last minute. Then I looked into a bus, but the busses were all sold out, so I had to take a train and get a hostel. Basically, the extra cost added the trip to get to munich stuck me in coach for the 9 hour flight home. Gotta make trade-offs and live within the budget (which had already been stretched because I couldn't get the ZED fare). 

The best thing about adapting to plans this trip compared to Hawaii was the fact that there was money to adjust to the plans (of course, being in Europe is actually A LOT cheaper than being in Hawaii, because transportation is better and food/lodging is cheaper. Also, the flight home allowed me time to write this record down while it was still fresh. It was like Murphy's Law - Everything that could go wrong did go wrong, but I adjusted/adapted to the new situation and made the best of things and had a good time with my friend. 

If you're going to San Francisco

I have recently decided that this blog would be much more entertaining if it was a chronicle of my travels and misadventures over the past 5 years. I hope you enjoy. 

The Christmas of 2008, I got a new tent for Christmas. It was a completely random and unexpected present, and I hadn't been camping in years. Apparently, Santa prepared the tent for me while I was still an avid outdoorsman and not so much a traveler. He decided that this was the time for me to get back to my roots, and so on Christmas morning 2008, there was a tent waiting for me under the tree.

My immediate thought was, What the hell? There must be some mistake. Santa always goes out of his way to surprise me and while those surprises are usually very welcome, sometimes, I'm not sure if the present is actually intended for this Sean. According to Facebook, there are 3 other Seans with my same name. Maybe it was meant for one of the other two. Who knows? Not wanting to be ungrateful or show displeasure (because a tent is always a useful thing to have), I told my parents to thank Santa for me, and went about setting it up in the living room of my sister's house and crawled in, to open the rest of my presents from my new home. 

Three months later, my tent was sitting there, in the corner of my room. Still in its bag, it was untouched since its Christmas Day house warming. I hadn't set it up, hadn't been inside, and hadn’t done anything with it. It was just sitting there. Much like it had been sitting in Santa's closet for approximately 7 years. So, I decided to do something about it. This was probably a Tuesday, and I didn't currently have a job. I was bored in the afternoon after class and decided to set my tent up. I crawled inside and sat down, reminiscing of the days in Boy Scouts when we would go camping one weekend every month. I thought about the weeks upon weeks I spent backpacking in the summers in high school. I decided I should do something about it. 

My first step was to figure out where to go. Normally, trips like this would take me to a hostel in Europe, but I know nothing about camping in Europe, and I didn't exactly want to spend a lot of money. I figured I maybe had $100 that I could spend on this, so I set about looking for a place. I talked to my dad about some of his favorite places, and I decided on Marin National Park, just north of San Francisco. I decided I would leave on Friday after class on a 4 o’clock flight out of Salt Lake, connect in Houston, and arrive at SFO around midnight on Friday night, after 7 hours of flying. I would then stay in a hostel the first night, then get everything together and spend the second night in my tent, and then fly home on Sunday. Because of the diverse itinerary of the trip, I had to have all my camping stuff, plus extra clothes to clean up and be appropriate for the plane. So I had my small-ish backpack and a biggish duffle bag. 

This was my plan, but as is very frequently the case with my trips (and really, my life), planning and reality are two completely different things…

Arrival

I arrived in San Francisco at 11:55pm. I was going to catch the BART then make my way to my hostel. Seemed simple. Except that I missed the last BART train. It was shut down for the night. Fail numero uno. Apparently, I missed the last train by about 30 seconds. As part of the theme for this trip, I only had my cell with me, because I wanted to do things low-tech and this was in my uncool days before I had a smart phone So I went to the rental car agency - they wanted $110 for two days. I said, “Ef that.”

So I set my tent up in the airport, and went to sleep. 

This was to be another one of those long days we all have when nothing goes right. I have had many long days in my life, many of which you will read about, I suppose, but this is still one of the longest. I woke up about 5:30am and got on the train. I finally made it to downtown San Fran and found the hostel I was supposed to stay at around 7am and went to check-in. I was sweaty. The temperature was probably around 50 degrees, but the humidity was really high. Carrying my bags and navigating the morning crowd on their way to work was a bit more strenuous than I had planned on. I arrived at the hostel, buzzed in, and carried my stuff up two flights of stairs. The clerk was friendly, but didn’t even have a record of my reservation, despite the fact that I had a confirmation number. It was like I didn't exist. The clerk told me I could take a shower and use the computers and hang out as long as I needed to, which I was extremely grateful for.

While I was at the hostel, my sister called and asked if I was actually in San Francisco and what was I doing there and would I like to take a look at the house her husband was building (he was previously in construction of high-end homes before the bubble crashed). She said she would come pick me up at the airport, and I told her I would be about an hour because I was already in downtown San Fran. I gathered my stuff and hustled toward the nearest metro station.

Thirty minutes later, she calls to let me know she's at the airport. I tell her that I am halfway there, and that I'd be along shortly. Ten minutes later, another call - she was circling, waiting for me. Another ten minutes go by, and I'm finally at the station where I transfer to the airport rail. I called to let her know that I'd be along in about 5, so we arrange where to meet. I finally get to the car and she's like, "What took you so long?"

I say, "Sorry, I was in downtown San Fran, I told you I would be an hour."

She's like, "Oh, I thought you were just at the rental car stop."

"Well, I was, but I went up to the city this morning to see about my hostel.

"Ok, well Weston's house is like a half hour from here, so I'll just take you there and then take you wherever you need to go." So we get in her rental car and drive south.

Before I left the hostel, I found an Enterprise with an acceptable rate for a compact car, made a reservation, and wrote down the address. I was prepared. I was ready to make this trip happen. I needed everything to go well. Not only had the morning been much more disappointing than I had expected, I was trying to get out of the dreariness of Utah, so I needed a good, relaxing trip.

So she drove me down to this house, and it was amazing! It was big and nice and just screamed elegance. It had a home theater. It had a wine cellar. It had a winding staircase. It had a hot tub and a pool that took up most of the back yard. In short, it was awesome! It was really the nicest house I’ve ever been in.

After we were done with the tour, I get back in my sister’s rental and she takes me to the outskirts of San Fran and drops me off at the rental car place. It was this dinky little trailer with an Enterprise sign that took up about two-thirds of its long side. Not exactly what one might consider a “high-quality establishment” and just the place to find a cheap rental car with no hassles.

I walked inside with my backpack slung over a shoulder and my duffle bag in my hand. There’s no doubt about it, it was a cumbersome load, and I really didn’t like lugging this stuff all over the Bay-Area. It just isn’t my idea of a good time.

I walked up to the counter and said, “Hi, I’d like to rent a car; I have a reservation.”

The guy smiles weakly at me. “Name?”

“Sean Mihalik. S-E-A-N M-….” And so on.

“Ah yes. I have you here. I see you have a compact reserved for one night. It’ll be $45.” That was it! Including tax! I handed him $50 in cash. The guy kind of recoiled. “Oh. I’m sorry sir; we don’t take cash.”

“Oh, ok, well I think I have that much on my bank card…” I pull my debit card out of my wallet and push it towards him. “Here”.

He looked at my card and kind of smirked. “I’m sorry sir; we don’t accept bank cards either. It must be a credit card with at least $300 credit available.”

I looked stupidly at him. “But I’m 25. You don’t need to treat me as an underage person. I didn’t bring my credit card because I didn’t want to use it.”

His smile left his face. “I’m sorry sir, I can’t help you.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“Well maybe you should put something about that up on your website so that people will know that they need $300 available credit on a CREDIT CARD before arriving.”

“I’m sorry sir; I think we just assume everyone has a credit card when they travel.”

I just glared at him and left the crappy little trailer.

I called my mom and told her what was happening. She said she could put $300 in my account just so it could get approval, but it would take a little while. I said ok, and called my friend Jenny who does Opera in San Francisco. She said she was a free and would come pick me up ASAP. Apparently, I was in a bad neighborhood, and that made her nervous.

So Jenny picked me up and I ran some errands with her. We went to a dance store to get her more stage shoes, and while we were there, I noticed a kid wearing a pair of Havaianas, which are the best flip flops ever made. They’re made of real rubber and really absorb impact like no other. They’re also very colorful! They come in many, many colors, and they’re just the best flip-flops. Go get a pair; you’ll thank me later. So I asked the kid where they got them; mine ripped towards the end of my internship in Scotland and I was looking for a new pair, but couldn’t find them in the US. The kid told us approximately where the place was, and I convinced Jenny to take me over there.

The block the flip-flops were on is like a little Brazil. There was a padaria (Brazilian Bakery), a clothing store, and a music store all next to each other. I kind of freaked out. We went into the clothing store and I inquired about the Havaianas. The lady directed me to where they were, and I tried them on. They were a half-size too small, but I was just so excited for them, I bough a pair of light blue ones anyway.

Then we went into the padaria and I saw they had cupuacu (koo-poo-ah-soo) on their beverage menu. This is my favorite fruit/juice from Brazil. I paid the hefty $5 for a glass and savored the flavor. A flood of memories came back to me of white shirts, nametags, heat, bugs, and trees. A foreign land, indeed. It’s amazing how something becomes so engrained into our memories that a taste or a smell can transport us into another place and time. Jenny started talking to me. Finally, she pulled me back into reality. She let me know she had to be in San Jose or somewhere soon, so it was time get rolling again. I hastily finished my glass and hustled out the door with her.

            We next went to REI where I needed to rent and buy the stuff I couldn’t bring with me. This trip was kind beginning to be a whole lot of hassle just for a Christmas gift. Remember how you got the remote controlled car for Christmas, but didn’t get the exact battery you needed, or any batteries at all? Exactly. Just like that. Only it’s a lot more expensive. I rented a stove and pad, bought gas, dehydrated food, and some other stuff. I love REI. The problem is I spend way too much money in there. I cannot go into REI without spending at least $100 on stuff I absolutely need in order to make any camping trip successful. That reminds me of the time I went hiking by myself in Southern Idaho, but that’s a different story.

            So we finally leave REI, and now I’ve got two additional bags. My mom let me know a little earlier that the money was in my account, so Jenny dropped me off at a rental car place in downtown San Francisco. This was going to work. This whole thing was going to come together. I was going to spend the night in my new tent, in my sleeping bag, listening to the wind rustling through the trees. It was all going to come together.

            Jenny let me out at the rental car place. I walked up to the counter. “Hello, I’d like to rent a car, please.”

            “Ok, sir, no problem. I’ll just need your driver’s license and a credit card with $300 in credit on it.” I hand him my driver’s license and my bank card, hoping nervously that this works. “I’m sorry sir, bank cards are no the same thing as credit cards.”

            “But there’s $300 on it. What’s the difference?”

            “I’m sorry sir, we do not accept debit cards.”

            “Well, can’t you just try it? It has the visa logo. Look! It’s just right there. It’s all the same.”

            “I’m sorry, sir. They’re not the same. We can’t take it.”

            It didn't work. I'd failed. I'd run out of options. I was poorly prepared and nothing could save it now. I just didn't have what I needed. Dejectedly, I left the office and walked back onto the street, where the humidity immediately swallowed me into its abyss. I swam through the air back to REI and returned all my stuff. I found the nearest BART train and headed for the airport. When I got to the airport, I called my friend Patrick and walked him through how to make me a reservation back to Pensacola over the phone. I was leaving this hellhole less than 24 hours after I’d arrived. I’d given it my best. I’d done everything I could do to salvage the trip and have a good time. It didn’t want me to have a good time. The city was against me from the very beginning and I was leaving before it could do more damage and cause more disappointment.

            I took the red-eye from San Francisco to Houston and instead of going back to Salt Lake, I flew home to Pensacola; my mom picked me up from the airport at little after 8 in the morning. She drove me home and I went right to bed.

            I woke up several hours later to my phone ringing. “Hello?” I said in my best I was sleeping why the hell are you calling me voice.

            Patrick. “Hey man. I was wondering if you wanted to hang or what today.”

            “Unnnhhhh. What time is it?”

            “Oh yeah, it’s already like 1:30pm.”

            “Oh crap. My flight leaves at 2:45!”

            “So you came home to sleep and now you’re leaving again?”

            Suddenly wide-awake, I go: “Yep. That’s about it; I didn’t feel like going back to Utah just yet.”

Patrick laughs at me over the phone. “Alright man, have a good flight. Sorry I didn’t get to see ya.”

I went and got my mom up from her Sunday nap. “Mom, I gotta go back to the airport.”

“Whaa? You’re leaving me so soon?”

“Yeah, mom. My flight leaves in an hour.” She said something about how my sister would be sad she missed me. Apparently she was at the beach. I remember thinking I was never allowed to go to the beach on Sunday, but refrained from saying it. It’s a good thing we live only 15 minutes away from the airport. I arrived at the airport and got on the plane to Houston, then flew to Salt Lake. Where a friend of mine picks me up and I’m back in Provo around 1am.  

I've sometimes made mistakes on trips that have cost me time or money or both. Sometimes that's part of the adventure. But this was the only trip where I didn't really make a mistake and I couldn't salvage anything from it. My dad always says a positive attitude is the only thing that can keep you alive when all else fails, but San Francisco knocked me down. And I fled. The weather. The people.  There were some good things that happened, no doubt, but the whole thing was just so frustrating. If you're going to San Francisco - DON'T.