People
The novelty of a new place is often the people who live there. Every city has its own culture. The mores of different regions shape an abundance of interesting people. San Francisco has many of them.
Featured photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/UqYjToJpJLpHH6Zf8
April 15th, 2023 - California Day 8
We stood on a street corner, waiting.
Across the street, a man with messy hair dragged a (stolen?) suitcase down the steep sidewalk. His head bobbed, erratic in his pace. Suddenly, he jerked to a sudden stop. He glanced around, yanked down the zipper to his baggy pants, and let everything inside fall out. I think I puked a little in my mouth. I looked away, unable to handle the nauseating sight. Not a great first impression of the city.
Needing something to look at, my eyes fell to my jeans. They were bellbottoms, handmade, yellow floral with blue polka dot cuffs. I don’t make a habit of wearing bellbottoms, but today’s circumstances justified them. We were going for a tour of San Francisco in a 1960s Volkswagen bus- a classic hippie van! I was excited to be a hippie for the day. It was only going to be in appearance, of course. I had no interest in trying out the recreational habits of hippies! When our yellow van rolled up to the corner, I couldn’t help but grin. It was going to a great hippie day.
Our van was named Daisy. She was golden yellow, with big eyelashes fastened to her headlights and a tropical floral overlay on the ceiling inside. Tyler and I claimed the middle bench, while an Australian family sat in the front and behind us. A chilly Pacific breeze blew in the window as we rolled through the streets of San Francisco. Having checked the forecast, Tyler and I were comfortable in our jackets. The young Australian woman behind us began to whine. “I’m so cold! I didn’t think people would have the windows open,” she snapped in our direction. Amused, we didn’t respond.
Despite her sour mood, our tour was lovely. We saw beautifully-painted old homes, the infamous steep sidewalks, and the Golden Gate Bridge. We stopped for a few snapshots of the Painted Ladies, the colorful houses featured in Full House. Then we carefully navigated Lombard Street, the iconic brick road that winds tightly down an intense hill. It was crowded here, with pedestrians streaming over the road. Because Lombard Street is so narrow, the sidewalks are nonexistent. One couple stood completely in the street, so close that Tyler could have high-fived them as we passed!
After completing our tour and grabbing a quick bite to eat, we headed for Fisherman’s Wharf. From there, we boarded a ferry that would take us to our next spot- Alcatraz Island. I half-expected Alcatraz to look like the Ohio Reformatory, gothic and imposing. Instead, the white brick walls and manicured gardens looked more like a fort, or perhaps a hospital. In fact, a reenactress in a Civil War-era gown informed us that Alcatraz was originally a military fort, built to ward off invaders from the lucrative California coast. Over time, they took on military prisoners, then regular prisoners, before being completely converted into the infamous prison.
People-watching in Alcatraz was unexpectedly eventful. As we climbed the steep path into the prison, a duck suddenly divebombed the crowd. She landed quickly on the pavement, hotly pursued by two males. She squawked at her aggressive suitors, but they still persisted. An older woman, alarmed at the sight, exclaimed, “They’re attacking her!” Without another word, she stomped over to the hormonal ducks and kicked one of the males. “Get off of her!” she yelled. We couldn’t help but laugh. We were sure she had good intentions, but we doubted her efforts would do much good. Those drakes were ready to party!
We were gifted the opportunity to meet one of the last living inmates of Alcatraz while we were there. He was quite old, sitting rumpled in the gift shop and signing copies of his biography. We bought one so we could meet him. Despite his age, bright sparks still danced in his eyes. He was still as sharp as ever. When I asked him what he did for fun, he nodded at the book in my hand and grinned. “Sell my books!” he declared.
When we returned to shore, we caught a ride back to our car in a cart pulled by a bicyclist. We weren’t the only riders in the cart, but the the man insisted he could haul everyone. And so he did! He even told us stories while he pedaled, hardly out of breath. It would have been more impressive if not for his unfortunate habit of spitting while he spoke. Being positioned nearest to him, I received quite the spittle shower!
We still had a few hours of daylight left when we returned to our car, so we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge and headed to Muir Woods National Monument. This was at my request, since the closure of Sequoia National Park barred us from the famous trees. The redwoods at Muir Woods may not be as famous, but they were stunningly beautiful. The golden light of sunset filtered through their massive trunks, lighting up the fence-lined path ahead of us. Children laughed somewhere out of sight. A creek burbled through the lush undergrowth. It was peaceful. It was perfect.
Our trip drew to an end here, surrounded by trees and quiet. We sat on a log for a while and reminisced, holding hands, just happy to be together. It’s a blessing to travel to new places. It’s doubly so when you have someone lovely to share it with.
It was a good trip.
Hiking trails:
Fern Creek Trail to Muir Woods Trail
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