Clang, Clang, Clang went the Trolley

Ding, Ding, Ding went the bell. San Francisco, California. A giant city I should love. I should, but I never have. It has all the makings of a place I would love-- water, great shopping, wonderful food, tons of interesting people and places, good public transportation. So why I wonder, do I have no love for this town? I have always assumed it was family baggage. Trips to San Francisco in college were always to see my Grandfather Woodward, whom I loved. But my birthmother and I have a complicated (that is to say, non-existant) relationship and she also lives in the area. This time it was all San Fran, as my Grandfather passed away several years ago, and Bill and the kids are with me. I was hopeful I would fall in love with this city. I didn't. I don't mind it. I just don't love it like I supposed I would. Bill, either. Rare that we visit a city and don't fall in love with it. But if you ask us about San Fran, we with both reply "Eh." (Bill and Tara speak for "take it or leave it". )

That is not to say we had a bad day. Quite on the contrary. We had a lovely day exploring. We woke up at a reasonable (not too early or too late) hour. Got out of our hotel and took off north to downtown. Parking was easy and not too expensive. The sun was shining. There was not even any fog. A beautiful 65 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. (Again, why don't I love this place?)


In our infinite cheesiness, we booked tickets on the double-decker, open-air hop on and hop off bus. We figured it would mean paying for parking only once and no traffic-I-don't-know-where-I-am-going stress. Plus, with only one full day in town, we figured we would hit all the highlights. We gave up trying to find tickets to Alcatraz after about 5 minutes. They are sold out weeks in advance. No big deal, William assured us. We hopped on our bus, got prime seats on the upper deck and started our San Francisco tour.


We drove past the wharf and through the financial district, with me hanging over the side to grab photos while in motion. I have to say I ended up with a pretty good vantage point and once the bus slowed or stopped, the photos weren't even too blurry. I was shocked when I got home to see what I actually captured. All of those shots would not have been the same from ground level. Take this shot of the Full House home, or the "Painted Ladies" as they are known around here. Our over-zealous first bus guide started singing the theme song, and poor Bill carried that tune around in his head for the rest of the afternoon.


Our main reason for booking the bus tour was to hitch a lift to the Golden Gate Bridge so we could walk across it and then get picked back up. None of us have been on foot across the bridge and we thought that would be pretty cool. It totally was. However, it was also totally windy and cold. We had a casualty on the bus trip due to wind. Despite being warned several times that he might loose his hat, William refused to take it off, and in an especially strong wind gust, and (here is the ironic twist) while he was reaching back to put his hoodie on his head to hold it in place, his most favorite item blew off his head and onto the bridge. After we got off the bus at the end of the bridge we walked the length, but instead of enjoying the view, we hunted for his hat. We found it. Smashed to smithereens and getting run over, and over, and over again and again and again. There was no rescuing it. Pins were gone, and The Hat was being murdered in front of William's very eyes. It was tragic to watch them both (William and his dear friend, The Hat) suffer. He did great with the emotion of the loss and though disappointed beyond belief, was a trooper and he didn't let it ruin his entire day (Look at the smile in that photo despite having a naked head. I also promised new hat hunting in the Haight. Not that The Hat could ever truly be replaced.)

We spent time in the Golden Gate Gift Shop for Romney (#1 on his to do list) and headed back to finish our bus tour at the Wharf. Famous Pier 39 to be exact, to see the sea lions. They are pretty cool. We did a tiny bit of window shopping, enjoyed looking at the carousel and froze our kiesters off when the wind picked up and the temperature dropped. I wore a sweater all day today, and wished I had worn long pants and not a skirt (which blew up around my waist at one point, mooning every one around me.) I almost forgot what it means to be warm. And so for warmth, and because the bus would stop running before we could get back, and I was not up for any more public humiliation, we picked up our car from the wharf and drove to the Haight to explore and hopefully replace a hat.

Ah, the Haight. It has never let me down in a shopping pinch before. And it still hasn't, as we found William a hat he likes very much, and is as comfortable as his old one. Not that they share the same history together, yet. But I am sure they will. Let the pin collecting commence. I feel guilty saying this in light of the present developments, but I hated that old, grubby, smelly hat. However, like any Mama worth her salt, my heart still ached watching William's face twist into despair when he realized what had happened and that it wouldn't be rescued. (Hope I didn't somehow cause the wind gust with my dislike.)