San Francisco, our last day

Hello fellow weary travelers.  Are you ready to go home yet?

Today was our last day so we went to the Golden Gate Park, which is not near the Golden Gate Bridge.  Today was the first and only day we got to see the legendary fog of San Francisco.

Unlike most residents of San Francisco, the wheelchair bound can't take full advantage of the hills so the Department of Public Transportation has built a special wheelchair ramp with that in mind.

Golden Gate park is a long and narrow park, stretching over 1,000 acres.  We entered near Haight and Ashbury because one of the children's teachers, who shall remain nameless, asked me to pick her up a souvenir from there.  Don't worry Ms. J, I got it and it's well hidden. (Wink, Wink, Nod, Nod)

 The Haight Ashbury district is famous/legendary/notorious for its former residents including Jerry Garcia (who once lived in the purple house shown), Janis Joplin,  and Jefferson Airplane.  It's has a big hippie/druggie scene, but it also has lots of little vintage clothing stores up and down the main drag.

 I even saw some clothing from the Edwardian period.  Beautiful, authentic stuff.  I had to go in, but sadly, bought nothing.  We found our way to the entrance to the park and we in there less than 30 seconds when a young woman asked if we wanted to buy any marijuana, reefer, dope, weed, or just plain pot.  We said no thanks.  She and her small group of friends appeared to be homeless along with dozens and dozens of other young people.  Geo told us that unlike Sarasota, San Francisco is tolerant of their homeless.  They even have...park benches!  Gasp!  The park is beautiful.

They have a special children's area.  It has its own rules.

Rule #2, Adults Must Be Accompanied by a Child.  We didn't have a child, but there was a coffee stand right smack in the middle of the children's section.  What were we to do?  What would you do?  What would any self-respecting cold tourist do?  You betcha.  We agreed on a kid in the crowd and planned to tell any questioning officer that the little Asian girl in pink was our daughter.  No one asked.  We didn't take any pictures of her because that would just be creepy.

There is a Japanese Tea Garden we visited.  Unlike entering the general park, the Tea Garden charges a small admission.  Look at this gorgeous wisteria.

Bob took a couple of pictures of me in my bikini, but because it was so darn cold I kept my wool coat, long pants, and socks on.  I promise, my bathing suit was on under all that.  I promise.

All right, there is something I need to brace you all for.  Something you might not otherwise imagine, something you cannot be fully prepared for without pictures...

  After just one week in San Francisco, I got... look very very closely at my neck... a rainbow tattoo!

Okay, I came here with a few goals in mind, remember?  

#1 Save a jumper- check

#2 hang off a trolley singing Rice-a-Roni, the San Francisco Treat- check

#3 Escape from Alcatraz.  Okay, stay with me here.  I didn't actually go to Alcatraz, therefore I couldn't actually escape.  I did, however, eat at Escape From New York Pizza, so I'll count that-check

#4 Learn Mandarin.  Because I watch a children's cartoon titled "Ni Hao, Kai-lan", a show that teaches some basic Mandarin, I came to the city with a cursory knowledge of it.  I can already say hello- ni hao, thank you- cher cher, and grandpa- ya ya, I think it's safe to say that I already speak Mandarin-check.

Why I love San Francisco:

• Geo, our host.
• The Castro district is every straight woman's revenge on a male dominated world.  I've never seen so many pictures of naked and near naked men in my whole life.
• The public transportation rocks
• The views are fabulous
• The food is fabulous
• Everyone except for the one person in Cafe Flore and the one trolley driver (whom I suspect might be the same person) was especially friendly
• There is more to do than there is time for
• The buskers and street performers
• A walk or bus ride just a few blocks can take you to a different world

I don't know if I'll make it back, but I sure hope I do.

A special thanks goes to my photographer, idea editor, fellow sign spotter, and joke victim- my husband, Bob.  Thanks.

San Francisco April 22, 2012

Yesterday we went to Japantown for the Cherry Blossom Festival.  

We are staying a few blocks from a main thoroughfare, Market Street.  We walk to the intersection of Castro St (where we're staying) and Market to pick up the F Trolley which will take us right up to the bay.  Part of the intersection has been blocked off from cars and this is where we saw the naked guy the first day we arrived here.  What we have since learned is that there is no law in  San Francisco banning public nudity.  Yesterday morning we got an eye-full (more than an eye-full truthfully) of men exercising their legal right to be naked.  I did not take a picture.  I know you're thinking "thank you"; you're welcome. Note to nudists:  Most people (including you) look much much better wearing clothes.

Here is what the skyline frequently looks like on any given street.

Each trolley, and some buses are attached to these by things sticking up from the roof.  

Upon reaching Japantown we were inundated with loud music and crowds of people.  Cherry blossoms really were in full bloom.

There were tons of vendors selling touristy things, jewelry, clothing, other little trinkets, and food.  After wandering and meandering through the crowds we decided to find something to eat.  We walked all the way around until finding what looked good.  Bob went for something called riblets, and I had Yakisoba, pronounced ya-kee-so-bah.  It was a combination of cabbage, egg noodles, and a tiny bit of red ginger and Japanese seaweed.  There was a kid standing in front of the booth yelling all sorts of ridiculous things, "Yakisoba- for every order you get two free smiles!""Yakisoba- for every order you get three free hugs (from her, not me"(pointing to the girl taking the money), "Yakisoba- goes well with beer and water!"  This went on and on and he kept everyone laughing and smiling.  My kind of guy.

We sat down at one of the dozens of eight foot tables set up and my napkin went blowing away instantly.  It landed in front of a lady who grabbed it and placed it in her own napkin pile.  I don't even want to know what she intended on doing with it.  

After we ate we saw this:

 It's the Chuck Norris sushi roll.   It has shrimp tempura, sake, spicy crab, green onion, fish egg, and spicy sauce.  Yep, that's right, spicy sauce.  That must be what makes it Chuck Norris sushi.

I got accosted by a giant wool monster.  Upon close inspection he looked to be made from dryer lint.  Now we know what happens to all those missing socks,  They get turned into dryer lint monsters.

After attempting to save me from becoming the monster's slave, Bob got arrested for assaulting a dryer lint monster.

  I am currently taking applications for a photographer for my ridiculous travel emails.  No experience necessary, must have a good sense of humor, and be willing to be the butt of many of my jokes.  

At some point during the festival we got to see people playing these awesome drums.  The sound was fabulous and they danced while playing the drums, switching places and instruments during the show, as part of the dance routine.  All ages, both genders, and many ethnicities were represented.  If you look closely you may even see the ONE token Asian person on stage.  Nice that one was included for the JAPANTOWN Cherry Blossom Festival.

Here was a fun thing I saw.  They had a booth allowing people to try their hand at Japanese calligraphy.  One was supposed to write, in Japanese calligraphy, a prayer and hang it on the tree.  What you can't see, because it's too small, is that one child wrote, "Being mean to my classmates." which sent me into a little tizzy of laughter.  I'm sure he meant he hopes to stop being mean, but it crossed my mind, What if his incorrect prayer is answered and all his classmates suddenly become the victims of meanness?  Not nearly as funny on paper.  I guess you had to be there.

We finally went home, after filling our bellies with Japanese food.  Back in our neighborhood I happened to chance upon this sign.  It is either the most diverse store in all of San Francisco, or the most specialized.

 I went inside.  Guess what they sell.  They sell crystals, jewelry, statues, beads, and doll house miniatures, and they also repair watches and do feng shui readings.  

After a brief rest we went downtown for dinner at an Indian/Pakistani restaurant.  I did not notice the television when we first went in, but after sitting down I couldn't stop watching it, despite my real college-try.  It was all Indian music videos.  I've had the good fortune to see a few of these before, but few things will make you laugh more than a good Indian music video.  If you're interested, Youtube one.  I'm sure they won't be hard to find. Here's one if you want to see one, but don't want to look it up: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxDHDuJttzE

San Francisco April 21, 2012

Today was meant to be a slow day.  After climbing that bridge, our calf muscles and thighs were begging for a break.  

We started our journey at a great yarn store.  There was so much beautiful yarn, but we didn't take any pictures for the same reason we didn't take any of lunch at the mall food court.  You've all seen that before.  

Then we went to Cafe Flore (pronounced floor).  You order and pay for food at one spot and drinks at another.  The person taking our order for food not so friendly, but the bartender more than made up for it.  When Bob asked for a coke he asked if Bob wanted a shot of Jack for it.  Then winked at me, laughingly.  

After brunch we went to the trolley car museum and Bob even got to play.

  

After the museum we walked around a little vendor's area and saw some cute and interesting things for sale.  We explored a small area of the city before going back to the house.  There was a small section of street vendors peddling their wares- clothes, art, and jewelry.

The house we are staying in, as mentioned in a previous email, was built in 1883.  It survived the great earthquake of 1906 and the fire that followed.  It is a Victorian flat.  The flat we are sharing with our host is a 2 bedroom, one bath.  I love the architectural details such as the wainscoting, ceiling medallions, and trim.  Geo has great taste in art, no boring or what I call "safe" art here.  The backyard is full of beautiful plants and trees and each morning Bob and I spend some time out there luxuriating in the smell of jasmine.  There are roses, angel's trumpet, hens and chickens, aloe (the biggest aloe I've ever seen) orchids, lilies, and many more I don't know the names of, but enjoy no less because of it.  Each morning Geo has freshly baked muffins or strawberry coffee cake waiting for us and the coffee pot is ready to go.  He is an excellent host and I frequently forget that is he a host as opposed to an old friend.  

For dinner we swung by a small Thai restaurant around the corner and got take-out.  It was a nice, relaxing day.

San Francisco April 20, 2012

Yesterday was my day to cross another thing off my list of goals.  We were going to the Golden Gate Bridge.  We needed to catch the underground where we would eventually get off somewhere.  Here in SF you can call 311 and tell them where you are and where you want to go, and the human being on the other end will tell you how to get there.  That's what Bob did, but the human on the other end only told him to get off on 19th Avenue, not WHERE on 19th avenue. 

Along the way we saw some guerrilla art.  For those of you who don't know what that it- it is NOT like Guatemalan Guerrilla art (do those guys actually make any art?) it is art, or something else, that is placed (usually) on public property, anonymously, for the sole purpose of making people smile or think.  This particular art was nothing special, but it made me smile anyway; someone had knitted a cover for the bicycle rack.

We took the underground, which emerged above ground outside the city limits.  We desperately needed a back pack and where we emerged was (Ta da!) a mall. We went in, bought a backpack, listened to a tale by the sales clerk about getting ready to participate in some event with former Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi, then grabbed some lunch.  Because you have all seen what it looks like to eat lunch at the mall food court, we did not take any pictures.

Once we finished lunch we went to the bus stop to complete our journey to the bridge.  By this time, school had let out and the bus kept filling with teenagers.  Here is some encouragement for those of you who think each generation becomes a little less respectful.  Many kids were sitting on the bus and as soon as an elderly person got on the kids gave up their seats without thinking about it.  You could tell by their facial expressions and body language that it was just a part of the way they live.  

The time we were waiting for finally arrived; The Golden Gate Bridge!  The map shows a bicycle rental place right there at the southern side of the bridge, but the map printers failed to include the current remodeling of the building that housed the bicycle rental place.  So...we walked.

Have you ever found yourself responding in the affirmative, with far too little information, when someone said, "Hey lady, can you do me a favor?" or "Yo! Can you hook me up bro?"  If yes, then you'll understand why I just took over when the man said, "Ma'am, would you mind holding this while I tie my shoe?"

The bad news is that I didn't get to save a jumper with my own two hands, the good news is that my holding up the bridge encouraged any would be jumpers to keep on living.  I'll count that as one more goal successfully completed.

Bicyclists on the left, old men and little girls on the right.

 What about the rest of us?  ...and the rest of you can go jump off a bridge for all we care?

Anyone care to interpret?  Anyone?  ANYONE?

I did not make this up.  It was found at a payphone.

We climbed/walked the bridge and reached the end.  There was nothing there, so we had to turn back.  Now I can truthfully tell my children, "I walked across the Gold Gate Bridge, uphill, both ways!"

Here's a view from the other side of the bridge. It was so windy, so windy, that what resembled hair when I left home that morning, looked more like a bird's nest when I returned in the evening.  Bob is obviously becoming acclimated (that's acclimatized for my tall attorney friend).  While I was shivering in my buttoned up wool coat, he walked it in his t-shirt.

After the bridge, we went to Fisherman's Wharf.  There were lots of little, overpriced shops, a Ghiardelli ice cream shop (no we didn't have any), and about 274 restaurants.  We picked the one with the out of order restroom.  The food was okay; not great, not bad.

We saw one busker Bob found especially hilarious.  He was holding a violin and a bow, rubbing the bow against the violin.  Notice I didn't say he was playing the violin?  He wasn't even pretending to play.  "EEE-EEE-EEE"  There is an icon here in San Francisco, The Bushman.  He is a man who hides behind greenery, palm fronds and other tall foliage, waiting for unsuspecting tourists, then he jumps out at just the right moment and yells "AAAAHHH".  We got to see him scare the daylights out of one such tourist.  Then he had the chutzpah to ask for some money.

There is one grumpy trolley car driver in San Francisco.  We had the temporary delight to ride in his car.  He posted this sign.

Not a telepath or omniscient?  Darn!  I bet he knows what I think about that!

By the time we left the Wharf I was so exhausted I missed all the funny signs that I'm sure we passed.  We arrived home, met our host Geo, and chatted about all sorts of ridiculous things, before finally collapsing into bed.

San Francisco April 19, 2012

Hello fellow travelers,

I was thinking, I am really doing all the hard work for you guys to enjoy this fabulous trip without having to walk up and down the hills, you don't have to deal with the jet lag, or the unseasonably cold weather.  I know you all appreciate it from the bottom of your hearts.  It does bring me to the first adventure we had yesterday. I needed a warm coat.  It is like a Florida winter here (really, I can see my breath each morning).  My sweaters were not enough to keep me warm.  We found a thrift store, Out of the Closet, and I bought a great coat that I hope I will be able to use in the winter.

We had two things on our agenda yesterday.  The first was Chinatown.  Along the way we found a trolley car.  I got to cross my first goal off my list; can you guess what it is?

"Rice-a-Roni, the San Francisco treat..."  Notice my new coat?

Along our path to Chinatown we stumbled across (not literally) some unusual signs.  Help me decipher them please.

I think the first one might mean "no hand holding heterosexual couples allowed" or maybe "men may not carry a man purse if the lady is carrying a purse too".  The second one was clearly written by a contrarian.

The time we were waiting for had arrived... the gate to Chinatown. 

If everywhere else in America everything is made in China, would everything sold in Chinatown be made there too?  Yep.  It was, we checked for the purpose of maintaining authenticity. We went into about half a dozen stores and bought a few little silly things.  Then we got something to eat.  We found a cute little french restaurant in the heart of Chinatown...just kidding.  We ate Chinese.  We're not ones to normally eat with chopsticks, but as mentioned yesterday, when in Rome...

After eating we decided to get off the beaten Chinatown path and head down some side streets.  This is where the fun began.  I saw a store named/called something creative like "HERBS AND SPICES" and we went inside.  It was not an herb and spice store, it was a Chinese apothecary.  It was fascinating to look around and on the counter, in front of the hundreds of apothecary drawers, was a large sheet of paper with all sorts of interesting dried things, including what looked like dried snake skin carefully piled on.  A man behind the counter was weighing various spices and herbs for a waiting customer.  I didn't take any pictures because it seemed like such disrespect "oh... look at the cute Chinese people...let me take a picture..."

I have an apology to make.  For all of you who ordered chickens yesterday; I didn't find any, so I bought you some fish instead.

After Chinatown we headed back home with enough time to relax for a short time before heading out to a Toastmaster meeting.  The Golden Gate Toastmasters.  The did not have a banner so I did not take a picture of myself there because it would simply look like me standing with a bunch of strangers, which of course is exactly what it would have been.  I did not get an opportunity to speak, therefore I did not get an opportunity to win the ribbon.  After the meeting we went out to eat at a place called The Irish Bank.  It was not a bank, nor was there anything especially Irish about it.  The food was okay and two of the Toastmasters gave me some suggestions to get over my devastating contest loss last year.  

We stumbled back home around 11:00 our time, 2:00 your time and collapsed into bed.  Today we are planning on renting bicycles and riding over the Golden Gate Bridge into Sausalito.  Let's hope I can save a jumper...

San Francisco April 17, 2012

Bob and I arrived at the airport dark and early.  The sun had not yet risen.  We made it through security unscathed but I did get my very first- wait for it- PAT DOWN!  Maybe it was my suspicious gait and demeanor, or maybe it was the strip tease I did while disrobing.  Shoes, jacket, belt...It's all about perspective.  I could've taken them all off the way I do at home, but how often do I get an audience of a hundred or so people?  The pat down was not as intimate as I had hoped for, but after all, it was my first time.

While I on the plane I watched the flight attendant model and display the oxygen mask.  How does one acquire a flight oxygen mask without actually participating in a flight disaster?  Any ideas?

In the Dallas Airport I saw these very strange signs:

I can't imagine what kind of severe weather would be happening in there, unless they are referring to the automatic flushing toilets.  In case you think it might be a female thing; there was one at the men's room too.

From the airport we took a shared shuttle.  The young girl sitting in the front seat insisted on keeping her headphones in her ears and saying, "What? What? What?" the woman behind us kept complaining about how long she'd been sitting in the shuttle, and the driver, who's accent was was thick and voice far too low to reach the back seat, kept having to repeat himself, "Miss Diana...where you go?" while driving AND trying to program his GPS.  The young girl asked if he would like her to take the wheel.  That's when he decided to pull over.

While at the airport we found the pariah section jokingly called the smoking section.  It's inside the green lines.  Yes, San Francisco, the most unfriendly city to smokers in the world.

We arrived safe and sound at our host's home where he was waiting for us with a smile.  He showed us around his home, which was built in 1883, and ran off to work.  We headed out to get some transportation passes and then down to Fisherman's Wharf.  We didn't actually make it that far.  The temperature was dropping and I needed some socks.  Yes, I know that socks with Birkenstocks will make me stand out as the tourist that I am, but I'm okay with that.

We found a little restaurant in the Ferry Building where I ordered far more than my stomach can possibly hold.  Then we took a trolley back home.

Along our travels we saw one man who didn't seem to be bothered by the cold at all.

While I'm usually the first to say, "When in Rome..." I'm not taking my clothes off.

Off to Chinatown today. Anyone need me to pick them up a chicken or two?