When I returned from the Ferry Terminal on Wednesday I walked through the Crocker Galleria
and discovered Andersen Bakery, which I was familiar with from Japan.  Returning there Thursday morning I bought, for my lunch, one of the stuffed breads I enjoyed in Japan: jalapeno and cheese. Thursday is farmer’s market day in the Galleria; I loved the bright red of the strawberries and tomatoes.

Back on the street I noticed a large sign: LIBRARY. I discovered the Mechanics Institute Library, organized in 1854 as a center for adult technical education. They had a show of old photographs about the history of the institute. The best part was their wonderful old building.

I boarded one of the old streetcars and went to Fisherman’s Wharf. This was one of my favorite places when we lived here. It’s become very touristy and crowded, but strangely, the original part with the old restaurants and the fishing boats was relatively empty. I was happy to walk around alone.

A gathering of noisy seals.

Entry to one of the piers. I think we walked here years ago.

Leaving the waterfront I started walking toward a bus to take me to Coit Tower and came upon Cost Plus Imports, another place dating back to my tenure in California. It was very exciting when we first found it–the only place selling exotic goods from around the world. There was no Pier One or Ten Thousand Villages. This was it, and I loved it. Just for nostalgia I went in and managed not to spend too much money. The woman at the check-out counter had worked there almost from the beginning; it was fun talking to her.

Finally arriving at Coit Tower
I found a quiet place to sit and ate my lunch. There were lots of eucalyptus trees and I enjoyed the smell.
Sometimes I don’t; maybe it has to do with time of year. I walked all around the tower, then went up into it and took more pictures. The city really does have a lot of concrete.

I thought the huge bronze statue in the parking lot would be Lillie Hitchcock Coit, who donated the money to build the tower,
but it turned out to be Christopher Columbus, designated, in large letters, as the discoverer of America. Lillie got short shrift on that one. I don’t know what Columbus had to do with it.

I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do on Friday. This was our last day. We were taking the redeye, so I had all day and no hotel to return to at 3 o’clock. None of the museums had compelling exhibits, but I finally decided to go to the de Young. I spent most of my time on a tour of carpets made in Turkmenistan. Good tour, but too much standing around. I found other kinds of entertainment at the museum.

This is some kind of fashion photo shoot.
It involved lots of people. The model had 6 inch heels and must have been 7 feet tall. Note where her waistline comes.
And get the crazy background. I’d love to see this in print. The entire crew, model included, came into the cafe for lunch while I was there. She had on a long shirt, tights and shoes that resembled army boots–the longest, thinnest legs I’ve ever seen. I left before she got her food. I was sorry afterward; I would have liked to see what she ate. The first thing she did was go outside for a smoke. This is another costume change, to be shot outdoors. I didn’t hang around.

The have a lot of outdoor sculpture and a special, small garden that had these small sculptures in cages, kind of like a zoo.
The gardeners were playing cards hidden behind a bush in the small garden.
This is what the museum looks like–nothing like the other buildings in the park.

Finally, the sphinx guarding the entry.

I went back to the Yerba Buena Garden and stopped at icebee, a self serve frozen yogurt shop. I think I tried six different flavors, all for $2.79. Wish I had one of those here. Robin’s meeting was at the Muscone Center, next to the garden. I hung out watching sea gulls drink in the fountain,
then met her to go to Greens for our last dinner in San Francisco. We wanted to taste as much as possible so we shared a wilted spinach salad, fresh pea ravioli and an artichoke and portobello quiche with sides of polenta and broccoli rabe. A great finish to a good week.

Tuesday morning on my way to the Asian Art Museum, I stopped at the
Public Library. Loved the place. They had an exhibit of student work
that gave me an idea about how to handle the tunnel book I’ve been
mulling over for the last year. There were lots of books, lots of
computers for patron use, interesting sculpture. A special room, the
Chinese Center had books in both English and Chinese, many with
wonderful Chinese paintings.

On to the Asian Art Museum, across the plaza. A huge exhibit of
Japanese prints had just ended, much to my regret. I started to walk
around the museum as they recommend in their guide, from the top down,
and realized it was just like the Asian art survey course I took last
summer. A tour of the Korean and Japanese areas was offered at 1 pm,
and I was the only person who showed up for it. I had a lovely visit
with the docent. found out lots of things about the museum and a little
more about Korean and Japanese art. The most interesting thing she told
me was that the museum wanted to double their space; they were easily
able to show twice as many objects. I hope they succeed in their
efforts while I am still able to come and see their collections.

I tried to get back to the hotel every afternoon to rest up a bit
and to do my leg exercises. Then I walked up Grant Street to City
Lights Bookstore. That was one of my favorite places when we
lived in California. I didn’t really remember it, but I loved all the
books. Grant Street is all honky tonk Chinatown: lots of junk for sale.
At one time it was enthralling to me; now I’ve seen too much. But it
was a beautiful day, the entire week was beautiful. I enjoyed the walk.

Wednesday was the day: walk across the Golden Gate Bridge. This is
the third major bridge I’ve now walked across, joining the Brooklyn
Bridge and the George Washington Bridge. I think I can do one more in
New York: the Manhattan Bridge. I have to find more, the requirement
being the bridge has to be more than a mile long. Golden Gate is 1.7
miles, according to the tourist office. I had neglected to ask what I
would find when I got to the other side. How would I return. I wanted
to take the ferry from Sausalito, but the end of the bridge is not
walking distance from Sausalito. Finally found out where I could get a
bus, which arrived after about a 45 minute wait. I had ice cream for
lunch in Sausalito, got on the ferry, saw the other side of Alcatraz
and had coffee in the ferry terminal back in SF. Here is a slide show of my walk on the bridge.

My love affair with California began when I was 19–true puppy love. In
1953 I spent a great 3 weeks with aunts, uncles and cousins in Los
Angeles. I loved the weather; I loved the sights; I loved the
celebrities I almost met; I loved all the special treatment I got as a
guest. That was the beginning. My honeymoon, in 1955, was a five week
road trip to Las Vegas, Los Angeles, San Francisco and brief stops in
other fantastic places. Again a wonderful experience. Although I loved
San Francisco I found it somewhat uncomfortable; women were still
wearing hats and white gloves in public. Inspired by all that love and
sunshine we moved to Sunnyvale, 40 miles south of San Francisco, in
1957; slowly, as with most love affairs, reality began to set in.
Sunnyvale was not San Francisco, which continued to have great appeal
for me, even though I felt moderately inadequate because the hat and
white glove thing was still de rigueur.  We moved back
to Chicago 2 years later, and I’ve returned to San Francisco many times. I
enjoy visiting here, but I must confess the love affair ended years ago
— only a bit of nostalgia remains.

Robin has a meeting here in May, every year. I came with her two
years ago after an absence of many years. When we came to SF in the
past I always felt the entire city was on an endless holiday, even
people who lived and worked here. Two years ago I realized that was no
longer the case. Non-tourist people here seem just as tense and
stressed as they do in New York, but without the amazing energy that
typifies New Yorkers. Maybe I was naive years ago, but this was before
the area south of Market Street was cleaned up and gentrified, and
before the homeless people were all over the tourist areas of the city, and before the cost of living was so astronomical.
But enough complaining. I’m having a good time — it’s just not the
same.

We flew out here late Sunday and were blown over by the hotel: talk
about over-the-top decor. The first thing was this fountain with the
rubber ducks.

I never took pictures of the lobby; I didn’t know where
to begin. This is the hallway.

One wall of our room: note the zebra
stripe headboards and the bunny ear pillows.

The other three walls of the room are white, mercifully.

Down the
street from the hotel and unavoidable was Farinelli Antiques and Fine
Arts.
I kept wondering who buys this stuff and what would you do with
it.

The lions were moved inside every night.
I was hoping to witness
the moving procedure but was always too early or too late.

The hotel is just outside the Chinatown gate. I went into Chinatown
Monday morning looking for dim sum breakfast and finally found one
place just opening that advertised "all you can eat" dim sum for $5.99.
The best way to have dim sum is to share with at least three other
people; dishes always come with three or four pieces. This time I was
able to choose just one or two of each kind, so I had a nice selection.
The proprietor was very nice; kept urging me to have more. When I
begged off he told me to come back and it would be free — I obviously
didn’t eat enough.

I walked down Jackson
toward the TransAmerica building and found TransAmerica Park, a lovely respite amid all the tall buildings.

Here are some of the buildings I particularly liked. I think SF does a fine job of integrating new with the old.

Then I went out to the Mission District. Somehow, I had gotten the
impression, probably from the internet, there would be a Cinco de Mayo
celebration, this being the fifth of May. No celebration, but an
interesting place to walk around.

Mission Dolores is a beautiful place.
I was amazed to find a Lutheran church and a synagogue on opposite
corners — a sacred intersection.

For lunch I had a Guatemalan taco
from a street vendor at 16th and Mission. Good stuff: I should have had
two of them. Also found a great fabric shop. Maybe people here still
sew; they don’t seem to in Pittsburgh.

I took 178 photos in my week in San Francisco. Be prepared for lots more to come.