Slipping into San Francisco first time

[backposted]

Mark Twain once said that the coldest winter he ever spent was a summer in San Francisco. I’m not quite sure whether he was referring to the weather of the people, but I have to admit it was one of the things that was on my mind as I planned my assault on Vancouver’s poor American cousin. Opinions are very polar about the city. Numerous people I spoke to hated it, while others thought it was the greatest place on Earth. I was shocked at how many people differed in this regard but additionally found it brutally expensive, even by American city standards.

I was very glad to have my poor, beleaguered, 70% sick friend SH showing me around though as I was so busy prior to the trip, I flew in with the inexcusable and very uncharacteristic (for me) situation of not even having looked at a map or read a guide on the city.

Still, it was kind of interesting. San Fran is quite beautiful though I don’t know how people handle the car culture. The gridlock getting into the city across the toll booths seems to ruin an otherwise beautiful drive and the strip mall-esque ness of both Cupertino and Hayworth were a little weird to me. Americans and their car culture. Still, I was expecting San Fran to blow me away compared to Vancouver but really found my new found home to be much prettier. I should point out that driving back SH‘s trusty stationwagon on the freeway and tailing her into Hayworth I managed to get separated from her backside as traffic merged and dodged left when I should have gone right and had to be talked in from the police station to her place, though even the local Cuban population in her neighbourhood had no idea where she lived.

The drive once we got to San Fran was fun though. We drove to Treasure Island for a phenomenal view of the city and the Bay bridge and then drove around the Market, Castro and out to Cliff House on the Pacific side for a coffee and s short walk round. Beautiful view of the Pacific with huge rollers driven by an entire ocean of wind crashing into the rocks on the Beach. Absolutely stunning and an amazing backdrop for a pretty damn fine cappuccino with SH. Interestingly, the area was home to the early 1900′s Sutro Baths, a millionaire’s ambitious plan to have a Roman/Victorian swimming bath house fed by the oceans there. The pictures of it looked great though all that remains now are portion of superstructure left by the fire that destroyed it.

Post Cliff House we went and checked out the view from Fort Point of the Golden Gate bridge. Stupidly, I had really wanted to see the bridge and in my mind had always pictured it from the exact angle that we saw it at. I took way more pictures than strictly necessary and even forced poor SH in her weakened, ill state to succumb to a toursity picture of me in front of the Golden Gate.

After that a quick walk round and then down to the Fisherman’s Wharf where we ended up at Pier 39 which was an unbelievable morass of tourists which I found way over the top even though we stopped for a bowl of clam chowder and a quick refuel before serendipitously finding the sea lions who call the docks their home. That, a walk back to the Ghiridelli chocloatier and a big ice cream Sunday there and we were practically passing out by the time we got back to Hayworth.

A quick dunk in the hot tub looking out over the 3 bridge view and it was all i could do to keep my eyes open before hitting the hay.

(Oh, I should also point out here while I can that SH was an unbelievable hostess, putting me up in her house, force feeding me home made jalapeño liqueur (which is as yummy and as dangerous as it sounds and which, if I hadn’t been patted down on the way down would have smuggled back here to the Great White North) and yummy yoghurt and putting up with every absurd request I made playing tourist while coming down with a pretty hefty cold bug. Viva SH ! Thanks hon !!!! xoxoxox )