We arrived Sunday afternoon, July 16, 2006, checked in to our hotel, the White Swann Inn, and took in the main avenue of Chinatown. In the evening we enjoyed a quiet dinner at Café Claude, nestled in the alley named Claude.
On Monday we met Rik, the Golden Gate Greeter provided by our hotel. He took us out to Haight-Ashbury and to Golden Gate Park. It was a long, though thoroughly enjoyable, 3-hour walk. In the evening Mrs. Farrago and I dined on sushi at Sushi-man, right next door and perilously close to the Nob Hill theatre, with its all male, nude review, featuring Big Giovanni.
Tuesday we walked UP Mason Street to California Street, where we took the cable car down to Market Street. From there we walked the Embarcadero to Pier 41 and our scheduled departure to Alcatraz Island. The historical building there that was the famous prison is an experience that must be had. Don’t let anyone discourage you by saying it’s just a tourist attraction. It’s an interesting, vital piece of the city’s history. And save yourself a few extra bucks by booking directly with Blue and Gold Fleet, as they’re the only ones with docking rights at Alcatraz.
Tuesday evening, due to the fact that the Hyde Street cable car line was not working, and there was a dearth of buses heading in the direction we wanted to go, Mrs. Farrago and I climbed four blocks up Hyde Street to view Lombard Street, the “crookedest street” in the country, perhaps the world. Then we climbed another four blocks, turned right and walked down four more blocks until we arrived at The Matterhorn, a Swiss fondue restaurant. It was during these afternoon walks that I discovered I would rather climb up the hills than walk down, as walking down caused me considerable shin pain. Why? Who knows?
Wednesday, after an inexorably long wait for a rental car (a Mustang convertible!), we drove over the Golden Gate Bridge and up to Napa Valley, stopping in the town of Napa for a brief wine tasting before heading up to St. Helena and our Bed & Breakfast, the Ink House. Dinner was at Cindy’s Back Street Kitchen, and was quite delicious.
Thursday morning we visited the Rombauer (think “The Joy of Cooking”) winery for a tour of their half-mile of man-dug caves and a tasting. For lunch we wound up back at Cindy’s, and it was just as delicious. That afternoon was a tour and tasting at the Hall winery in St. Helena by a friend who works there. Thursday night found us at Michael Chiarello’s Tra Vigne Ristorante, stuffing down the delicious veal and papardelle dishes despite having not yet fully digesting lunch!
Friday morning was a quick tour of Hall Rutherford winery with our same friend, and then we were on our way back to San Francisco by way of the Sonoma Valley which, in our opinion, was far inferior to the Napa Valley. Dinner with friends at Scoma’s restaurant at Fisherman’s Wharf, and to our hotel near the airport to continue digesting Wednesday’s dinner!!
Saturday, July 22, 2006, was a late wake-up, turn in the car and hop on the plane back home.
San Francisco has a quirky vitality. Her attitude shaped by – and in spite of – calamity, she is a stubborn city, audaciously perching on hillsides and precipitous streets despite hardship and extra effort required to traverse them. Residents seem oblivious to the hardship, effort and hazards, not to mention her contrary and somewhat bizarre weather patterns. An outsider, winded from a one-block, 30 percent grade, 50-foot climb in altitude, may at first find it difficult to understand one’s love for this city. But it is there, as fierce a passion as anyone can have for a patch of earth.
It is her vitality that seduces a visitor. How can cold summer weather, near-vertical traffic arteries and the ever-present threat of “the big one” win over the hearts and minds of so many people? I don’t know, but there she is, that glowing, golden City By the Bay, bustling and humming, clinging to those impossibly steep hills like bees to a hive.
1 comment:
Looks like you had a great time. Excellent pics too!
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