SF - The Other Side

With soreness in the arches of my feet from all the walking yesterday, I was determined to tackle another full day in the City. I caught the 9am shuttle to the airport, and BART to the Embarcadaro stop. One of my destinations for today is "Lori's Diner", said to be the best diner in the city. So, rather than going to the Powell Street location, which is right off Union Square, I headed for the Ghirardelli Square location. It would be a pretty long walk from the Embarcadaro stop, so instead, for $1.25, good for 90 minutes of municipal transportation, I boarded a streetcar which whisked me away to Fisherman's Wharf. The driver/captain/pilot of this "Chicago" streetcar, or whatever the appropriate title for this person is, was laughing it up with another passenger, no other than the world famous "Bush Man" of San Francisco. These guys were practically in tears, they were laughing so hard from one-upping each other with some raucous comment or impromptu comedic narrative. I was able to learn through some of their discussion that the "Bush Man", yep, the same one from our walk along the wharf on Sunday, was married, with two kids, his oldest in Stanford. Whether this was another tale, or the truth, I will never know, but the guy was a trip, and all smiles and giggles.

Anyway, I got off the streetcar with a silly crooked grin from all the antics I just witnessed, and headed off towards Lori's. Within a few minutes, I was up the steep hill of the square, and inside. The very friendly waitress seated me in what she described to be her favorite seat in the diner, and this was no joke. The view from my red vinyl seat was beautiful, as I was overlooking the Municipal Pier, Maritime Park, Aquatic Park, wharf, etc. On my way to Loris, I noticed a large white building that was a "Swimming Club", and sure enough, with my view to this part of the Bay, I was able to watch 3 intrepid souls swim from their club, out to a buoy, and presumably back again. Quite a display. Looking over the menu, I was disappointed to see such a brief listing of breakfast items; I guess I have grown spoiled from my occasional scattered, covered, smothered, and topped Waffle House breakfasts back home. But, after further inspection, I found that although the selection appeared minimal, the creations sounded quite good. I went with something called the "Del Mar Omelet" with sourdough toast and a coffee. When the waitress returned moments later to deliver this beast of a breakfast, I realized I would have my work cut out for me. This omelet was huge, bursting with fresh prawns, green peppers, avocado and jack cheese. The hash browns were a perfectly symmetrical rectangular slab of crispy brown deliciousness. It was ALL good! She kept the coffee flowing too, so that was a huge plus, as I would need it to keep me going the rest of the day about town. I took a snap from inside the diner looking out to the bay, and another from my seat, looking back inside. It was a cool 50's motif with all the typically authentic diner stuff, minus the cigarette smoke, greasy grimy windows and chattering locals.

Stuffed, I walked a few blocks to board the #47 Muni bus at the foot of Van Ness Street. Luckily, the large group of youngsters that arrived at the stop at the same time I did, obviously out on a class trip for the day, got onto a different bus. Whew. With a short wait, I was off for the other side of the city. I wanted to find my way to the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood, as it is a place famed for it's hippie-folk and Summer of Love vibe. I got off at South Van Ness, and got tangled up in this confusing mess of streets, but with the help of a friendly San Franciscan, I got pointed in the right direction. It was a hike, as some of the streets were really steep, especially up 14th to Castro. For a time, I wasn't really sure if I was getting anywhere closer to Haight, but upon making it to the famed Castro District, I knew that I was almost there. I felt a bit uncomfortable here, but the homes were absolutely amazing. Gigantic, beautifully restored and tastefully manicured. Not all of the homes, but I'd say most of them were this way. I continued on Castro until I arrived at Buena Vista Park, and ventured up the sloped path next to Buena Vista West and into the wild-looking, forested park. It was a little un-nerving as it was difficult to see around all the large trees and bushes, but I made it to what I guess was the summit, and was rewarded with a beautiful view of the whole city below. After snapping a pic or two, I continued down the other side of the park where I encountered a huge pack of 20 or more unleashed dogs, including a large Rhodesian Ridgeback that I wanted to go say hi to. Although unleashed, there were at least two people with them who were obviously leading the pack, and it was fun to watch this huge group of dogs, seemingly so familiar with each other and their dog-walkers, playfully sniff around, and eventually pile into the back of a small pick-up truck for what I assume would be their ride back home. Out from under the canopy of trees, and back into daylight, I found more beautiful homes and another wonderful view worthy of photographing. I snapped a shot, and then heard a kind of shuffling, giggling noise to my left, and upon looking, saw a "couple" all intertwined in the back seat of a small car parked alongside the sidewalk where I stood. Uhhh, time to leave. I high-tailed it down Buena Vista East and back up Castro, and up Haight Street. On my way up the steep Haight incline, I had to pull off for a few moments, because the fellow I was trailing was emanating such a disgustingly foul stench of body odor that I couldn't stand it. By the looks and smells of it, this chap hadn't bathed in quite some time, or recently washed his clothes. I did notice however, that he had the seat of his pants intentionally cut out, with only a flimsy fabric to replace it apparently sown in; so maybe it was this little accoutrement that was accentuating this repugnant aroma. Whatever, I had to breathe, so after enough of a gap widened between us, I continued my march up Haight Street.

It was obvious when I got into the Haight-Ashbury District. The stores were just what I expected, selling tie-dyed shirts, smoking paraphernalia, skateboarding gear, vinyl records, adult toys and trickets, underground publications, tattoos and piercing jewelry, vintage clothing, shoes, etc. There were a bunch of very fun and interesting looking bars, cafes and restaurants too, some specializing in vegetarian, and/or organic foods. I wandered in and out of a few places, and then topped it off with a visit inside the famed Amoeba Music store at the foot of the Golden Gate Park. Amoeba Music was my favorite of the record stores I have been in so far, being a large wide-open building with row upon row of every imaginable type of music, both new and used, and a huge selection within each genre, with thumping music playing in the background. But still, the prices were too high for me, as I have grown accustomed to paying about $5/CD on Half.com, and simply refuse to pay the $13 and up prices they all charge out here in the retail stores. I picked up my backpack from the security check-in, and headed out to the park with hopeful expectations.

What a letdown. In my opinion, this park was sad. Besides the shady-looking folks that populated much of it, it just looked neglected and worn down. I did not explore much of it, but did see a team of youngsters having soccer practice, a lawn-bowling club, and a huge collection of tennis courts which seemed to be in decent shape. There was a public rest room, which I used, reluctantly, and then I took a break to check email and plan the rest of my day's venture. With my wind-breaker on, I had sweated through my t-shirt, so I took that off and put on my long sleeve shirt and fleece vest to get warm again, then left the park and headed back up the other side of Haight Street, eventually to Market Street, and up to Powell St where I planning to meet Vee after class. It was a long, rather uneventful walk, and I got to Union Square with plenty of time to spare, a few hours-worth actually. I went into the huge Macy's store across from the square to kill some time, picked out a few things for Vee, and then went back outside for a quick slice of pizza, back to Union Square, and then plunked down to read more of my book, and wait for Vee to arrive. We hooked up right on time for the fee open-air jazz concert in Union Square. The band was the Marcus Shelby Septet, and they were quite good. It got a bit cold, so after 45 minutes or so, we huddled on a park bench, flipped through one of my many free San Francisco guides, and picked out a restaurant for dinner. We knew that we wanted something close by, and ended up in a place called the Daily Grille, on Geary Street, just a block or two off the square. We were again seated immediately, ordered our drinks, appetizer and entrees, and within minutes, everything was on the table. Too soon, actually, because we hadn't even gotten through half of the delicious complimentary sourdough bread, and our cheesy spinach artichoke dip before the entrees arrived. I ordered something I've never had before, a "Columbian Wild White Sturgeon" in a blend of gravies over top a patty of rice with grilled asparagus...all delicious! I also had another new beer, a refreshing pilsner called "Lagunitas" that was brewed in Petaluma, CA. Vee had very tasty grilled, marinated chicken breasts in a sweet salsa, with spinach mashed potatoes, and a grilled onion. We finished the meal with a very enjoyable NY Cheesecake in a fresh strawberry sauce.

After dinner, we caught BART back to the airport, and the shuttle back to the hotel where I collapsed with exhaustion while Vee checked email before finally going lights out.