San Francisco: Day 2

Considering how late everyone got in, we managed to get an early start to the day.  We met up at Blue Bottle Coffee in the Ferry building but the line was too long and none of us were convinced their coffee was special enough to wait in line.  I think it’s a me and Meg thing – we refuse to stand in line anywhere whenever we are together.  They were just so relaxed, happy and full of life.  It made all the stress leading up to the trip worth it just to see their faces all lit up in smiles.

Afterward, we separated since Meg was off to visit the mother ship of belly dancing for an afternoon class.  Shanon was determined to get some writing done so I was left to amuse the assy Brit with a whirlwind tour of San Fran highlights.  In just a couple of hours, we managed to fit in the sea lions at Pier 39, views of Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge, a stroll around Fisherman’s Wharf and Hyde Street Pier.

The best view from Hyde Street, though, wasn’t over the bay.  If you turned around you got a fantastic example of the rolling hills of the city and I was lucky enough to catch a cable car heading down it.

We made what we thought was a final stop at Ghiradelli Square where we warmed up with a to die for Lombard Street cocoa.  Or I should say I did.  He ordered a regular cocoa and thought it was good until I let him try mine.  He then spent ages trying to steal mine away and binned his own.  I promised to bring him back before he left so he could have one of his own.

Finding a cab was a nightmare at this point and my body was objecting to any further walking. We searched all over and somehow ended up in North Beach.  As we wandered through some quite questionable streets (I always seem to find these on my travels) a sign got my attention on this little building.  Turns out, it was a cheese school.  A CHEESE SCHOOL!!!!  That’s like…I don’t even know what it is.  Who knew you could have a school all about cheese.  And not making it either (which I had assumed) but eating it.  Just bizarre.

Almost but not quite as amusing as the cheese shop was the sign on this little place.  Were it not for HPFF probably would never have noticed but it got my attention for obvious reasons.

Weird local eccentric stores giving a bit more energy, I spied the restaurant where we were set to have dinner that night.  Being the pushy American (okay, so I’m really not pushy) I suggested the assy Brit go in and check on our reservations and maybe, just maybe, ask the owner if he could call a cab for me.  A few minutes later, Brit charm won out and a cab was on its way.  I was off to rest and then meet up with the group later that evening.


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