Tales of the Partial Froomies Trip to San Francisco, Intersession 2010 PART THREE

Tuesday, January 26th
Hotel breakfast on
a rainy morning. Bagel:
dry. Cream cheese: succulent.
Yes. This was the case, as we began our third morning at the Hotel des Arts. We cuffed our pants and grabbed our umbrellas and maps (routine by now) and headed out. We had a route planned. First, we would go to the Transamerica Pyramid, then Coit Tower, and finally City Lights Bookstore before relaxing and then going to dinner at The Boulevard, recommended by Subcontinent and her parents. (The beauty of doing the majority of the planning for a trip is that you can go the places you want and the person with you just has to tag along.)
Right off the bat, the Transamerica Pyramid was a bust. It turns out it's only fun to look at from afar and the entire thing is private office buildings. Still, we accidentally (this seemed to be the theme of this trip*) stumbled upon the redwood grove in the back, and had fun exploring it and making fun of the creepy statues of children and frogs hiding between the trees.
From there we walked up to Coit Tower. Perhaps I should say hiked. As the bird flies, it is quite close, but we hadn't counted on the hills. Not that this was a problem. Some of the best moments of the trip were the times we found ourselves in residential areas, looking at houses, wondering about real estate. It is possible we could have picked a better time to visit Coit Tower. This was the rainiest morning we had had so far and the view, when we finally did get to the top and paid the fee to ride the vintage elevator manned by a friendly Chinese man, was limited, but (maybe because of my more peaty ancestors) I tend to like misty views and San Francisco was no different.
Downstairs we checked out the murals and used the facilities (classic de Plume planning) before walking back out and down to City Lights.
Now, the first time I visited San Francisco was to visit Berkeley and Stanford the spring break of my junior year of high school. My parents, being awesome, took me to City Lights. At the time, I found the neighborhood around the bookstore kind of grungy and not that safe.
Well, apparently I have either, oh, I don't know, become less stupid (or maybe just seen more) since then, but I was shocked when we finally popped out of Little Italy onto Broadway to find a bustling, nicely proportioned neighborhood. We live and we learn, I guess.
There's not much to say about wandering around a bookstore, which is fine. I'm a bookworm and Roommate J is obsessive, so we were in there for quite some time before we realized we were hungry. Our options were something Italian or something Chinese and since at this point we were all for experiencing new things we turned around and ventured back into Little Italy, where we carried our accidental discovery mode forward by accidentally discovering Café Trieste, walking in, and ordering focaccia sandwiches. Café Trieste is quite famous, and was the first stop espresso made on the West Coast. I knew the name rang a bell.
Lunch was followed by wandering around Chinatown (and discovering suspiciously and inappropriately named incense sticks--ask me somewhere else what it was if you want to know), and walking over to Yerba Buena gardens in the financial district. There was a nice Martin Luther King Jr. memorial there, which did very effective things with water running over a cliff.
We went back to the hotel early and relaxed for a while before primping and going down to Market Street to catch the F to The Boulevard. The Boulevard has a view of the bay bridge and great food. It was hopping, especially for a Tuesday night in January, but Roommate J and I had made a reservation and got a great table, again by the window. I got a Cosmo (the best, of three, so far), filet mignon, and chocolat brulée. Roommate J got similarly delicious dinner and desert and a never-ending well of Austrian soda.
After dinner we walked back to the Hotel des Arts. It was like leaving restaurants in Paris, and that good, well-fed feeling you get that feels even better after walking through the night, people-watching all the way.

to be continued...




*And maybe my life. The first time I visited New York by myself I accidentally found Bryant Park and the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree.