The day started as any other - with coffee. Fran and Stephen were off to work at 8am, leaving me at home to relish in holiday mode of getting ready over 2 cups of coffee and flipping between Today and Good Morning America to consider upcoming Bay Area weather. (NBC declares Sunday a "beach day" - sounds promising!)
I caught the trusty CalTrain right into the centre of San Fran, and decided on a long walk from the station at 4th and King Streets, right along the Embarcadero to Fisherman's Wharf, stopping along the way to sample awesome foods at the farmer's markets and gourmet food stalls. Mmm... food.
At Fisherman's Wharf I had the inevitable tourist lunch of clam chowder and sourdough at Boudin's Bakery (Jeannet - they wouldn't part with their famed starter - looks like you're on your own with the weekend baking experiments). This sourdough makes me happy beyond explanation, and I can't promise that I won't go back for another sneaky sandwich before I leave...
I'm noticing that at 25, compared with when I travelled to US at 19, I'm a bit more of a "mature" tourist, and am happy to just stroll along people-watching, going for coffee ("cawfee"), checking out architecture, more coffee, chatting with locals/other tourists, coffee... and so forth. Shit - I've become my dad. Probably something my friends and family have already discovered. Oh well, I'll embrace it.
After lunch, I contemplated the hike up the immense hill to Coit Tower (above, left), but realized my calves weren't in the mood (I was, but they weren't), so instead I jumped on the F Trolley destined for the famous intersection of Market and Castro Streets. (The ridiculous hills can wait for the weekend)
Got off at Castro Street, determined to find (among other things) the location of Harvey Milk's 'Castro Camera' (I'll note at this point that apart from free wifi at Starbucks, I'm struggling without having mobile data - maps, googling, social networking - it all seems so hard to manage without quick and easy access when I need it*).
* First-world problem #1
Anyway, proceeding as a data-less tourist, I looked to my intuition to find the store along the 4-block stretch. On the way, I came across an awesome Human Rights Activism store that I had to explore. After finding some Harvey Milk mugs (yes, I bought one, and it will be my new desk staple at UNE), I looked around curiously, and said to the shop owner: "Is this the Castro Camera store?" He laughed, and immediately said "Yep... it is." After this, he proceeded to show me some photos of them filming Milk** there, and explained a bit about the history. I even nabbed some photos sitting on the famous stoop of the store - pretty darn exciting.
** O'Connor crew - this is the holiday movie-reference #1. Let's see if we make it to at least 20 during these six weeks.
Castro was abundant in a couple of things:
1) crazy and/or naked guys ranting up and down the street; and,
2) friendly locals.
Funnily enough, the latter proved to be the most rewarding, and the Starbucks there was a hub for people keen for a chat. Greg was a local guy who worked at University of California and knew heaps about San Fran history. We talked for a solid hour over coffee, on any number of my favorite topics: government policy, history, civil rights, politics... That's right friends, my inherent geekiness travels with me wherever I go.
Then came Andrew, an import from Tennessee who thoroughly enjoyed my ability to recite endless tv and advertising quotes, as well as rebelling against the establishment by walking in front of on coming joggers and playing by no one's rules but our own. We walked from Starbucks to Mission Dolores Park, where we sat on the grass overlooking the city and expressed concern at drug dealers conducting their business just meters away from happy young families playing on the swings. Bless you and your stark contrasts, San Fran.
The walk back towards the train station along Market Street, although interesting, proved too much for tired little Dave after the 15th block and an entire day of walking around the city. I bailed, and got a cab to the station, then the 7:30pm back to Mountain View. On arrival home Fran was excited to hear about my activities. After the catch up, all my coffees had worn off and I was ready to crash.
And to all.... a good night!
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