The Beauty of San Francisco

I am lucky enough to live close to San Francisco, a city that continues to amaze me with its beauty, history and wealth of entertainment choices. On Sunday, my sons took me to the city for a special Mother’s Day treat.

We had lunch at the Ferry Building on the wharf, which houses stalls of specialty food companies and several restaurants. On the backside, you can eat outside and enjoy the view of the Bay Bridge, Angel’s Island, and Alcatraz. Sleek sailboats cut through the water with billowing sails, tilting like a crazy carnival ride as they zigzag across the headwinds (that’s called tacking matey). I’ve been on a sailboat that tacked. I almost tacked. I went from a sitting position to a near-standing position in my seat as the boat turned. I think I screamed.

You can’t imagine the beauty of San Francisco at night when you’re sitting in a sailboat on calm waters. It’s a postcard of lights, tall buildings, and a landscape that looks like a Dow Jones chart with its up and down curve of hills.

We hiked up to the cable car and rode the line past China Town to Grace Cathedral. The ground for the Cathedral was donated by the Crocker family. The Railroad Barons were big folk in San Francisco. I’d like to be thought of as a Railroad Baroness. It sounds regal and working class at the same time. Snooty and humble. People wouldn’t know what to make of me.

Jumping back on the cable car, we went to the Haas-Lilienthal House on Franklin Street. This is a beautiful Queen Anne style home built in 1886 that has a delightful and educational tour that is well worth the time and minimal cost (discounts with AAA). Our docent, Albert Moore, was the best! I couldn’t stump him with any of my questions, which ranged from the beautiful architecture to why Victorians had so many windows in a house if they were just going to cover all of them with heavy velvet drapes. I can’t imagine living in a darkened cave of a house without seeking some sunshine! Apparently Victorian rules of modesty overrode the need for light. I’ll bet the women had beautiful skin. No sun spots for them!

We hopped back on the trolley and went to Fisherman’s wharf, but decided that we should go see Koit Tower instead since dinner reservations were at 6. I said the fateful words…"Let’s walk”. It looked about 6 easy blocks on the map. What the map didn’t show was the angle of the blocks…straight up. Holy Hills Batman! I think I started walking at some weird slant to the ground. I told my son that this was his diabolical version of a Mom’s March.

And then the wind started to blow. My youngest son chanted The Little Engine That Could mantra…I think I can, I think I can. I wanted to laugh but didn’t have enough breath to spare.

A large flock of squawking parrots flew overhead as we stood taking in the view of the city below Koit Tower. Most people don’t know about the feral parrot population in San Francisco. You wouldn’t normally think these birds would find the city to their liking, but I guess the abundance of good restaurant food and high rent high rise buildings and trees make perfect grounds for the flocks. They must be Railroad Baron sort of birds.

We took the elevator up inside the tower and then walked up more steps to get to the top. Nice 360 degree view if you can breathe long enough to enjoy it.

What goes up must come down. We walked down the steepest hills I’ve ever seen to get to the restaurant. People who live there must be the most fit in the world. I’ll bet the 24-Hour Fitness centers in San Francisco don’t bother with cardio equipment. They probably point to a hill and say “hike that”. I can’t imagine how people who live there can carry bags of groceries up those hills, then walk up several flights of stairs just to get into their house/apartment. I’d have the grocery store deliver. I’m a flatland wimp. I was hoping I wouldn’t trip and go rolling down the street like some human beach ball. Also hoped my knees would hold up as brakes. Tricky to negotiate those hills…very tricky.

We had dinner at Manga Rosa, a Brazilian restaurant in North Beach with a casual décor and music that leaned heavily into techno thumping rather than The Girl from Ipanima. Boom ta boom ta boom. The cheese bread (little biscuits with cheese running through it) and the warm spinach salad with grilled pears were delicious. I had a good feeling about the rest of the dinner. I ordered Red Snapper with herb rice, black beans, and a fried banana. Weird combination huh? Oh those Brazilians! The fish had some sort of sauce on it that made my head sweat and my lips sting. And it didn’t taste good either. I scraped as much off of the fish as I could. That didn’t help. The fish tasted like…stinky fish feet. The rice was awful, the fried banana was like a squishy liquid banana with fried batter around it, and the black beans weren’t that great. Apparently the waiter overheard my comments as he came over and asked if I liked the dinner. Does my sweaty head and tingling, numbing lips look like I’m enjoying the meal? He was very nice and comped us for my dinner. He asked if I’d like to order something else. Not on your life…I would have said that, but thought better of it since he was a very attentive waiter. I ordered coffee instead. I like strong coffee. Sure hoped they had some good Brazilian coffee. Juan Valdez and all that. The coffee I was served could have pealed paint off your car. Watch me run up those hills now!

San Francisco is romantic beyond belief with her modern skyscrapers as a backdrop to the rows of old Victorian homes, clanging cable cars, street people playing violins, guitars, and drums. It is fresh and young, old and historic. It smells of fish and warm bread by the wharf, and a mixture of heavenly gourmet delights in North Beach. Bring your camera, comfortable shoes, a jacket, and someone you love. You won’t be disappointed!