Friday, April 9th 2010.
Moved hotels from The Majestic to Marina Inn. Marina Inn is in upper Pacific Heights and a lot closer to Fisherman's Wharf. The original plan was to spend the weekend in Napa, but Napa is really rather expensive with little or nothing to do (so I've heard), so Marina Inn it was. I got there early and left my bags at the door and headed over to the Union Street Shops to have breakfast and do some sightseeing.
The Union Street Shops were not bad at all. It was more like a trap. I had to convince myself not to shop or stop shopping. I ended up buying some earrings and (really) resisted buying some scarfs. Had a breakfast sandwich at La Boulange de Union and it was quite possibly one of the best cold chicken sandwiches I have ever had. I don't know what it was, maybe the parley snips, or some type of sauce, but it tasted so darn good. I wish I had more. Suddenly, it made everything all better. If only all my breakfast meals had started off this good. I knew I was on to something good when I got there and it was crowded, packed. I sat outside and enjoyed my sandwich whilst browsing the pretty passers by. The men were all ripped and nicely tanned as they walked their dogs. The women were all nicely primped and exotic looking as they did nothing but chat (gossip) with other nicely primped ladies and walk their cute dogs. I was beginning to like this. Pity it was about coming to an end.
Shopping. More Shopping. Stopped for Pastries at an Irish Pastry store. Had the best shortbread cookies I've had in a long time. So much Al Fresco dining going on I was tempted to join them again even though I was not really hungry. Stopped at Perry's and had a nice beer and some fries. Unhealthy, I know but in all honesty I had been walking all day and more to come, so I needed that day time drink to boost me. Perry's was not all that great, a tad expensive and the bartender was also pissed that I didn't come to have lunch. Saw some men enjoying this drink that was made with spices, I forget the name, it's supposed to help with hangovers - (psst...it's called a Bloody Mary). He offered me a sip but I politely passed on tasting that awesome delicacy. Sat for a bit and continued with my walk. Walked until it was 3.30, sweltering and time to check into the hotel.
Checked in and just as I suspected Marina Inn was a dud. Should have really stayed where I was at The Majestic. It was considerably cheaper, bigger and less antiquidated than Marina Inn. Too late now, isn't it? Did some quick unpacking and headed out. I had planned to walk towards the curvy road on Lombard Street, take some pictures and then, head over to Fisherman's Wharf, in time for happy hour and some more sightseeing.
When you see the pictures you think, it's just a curvy road, all these twists and turns. Nothing fancy. But it's such an arduous task to get to this curvy road. There are no less than 3 steep hills to climb up to Lombard just before it descends right at Lombard. It was a hot, sunny day and I was dressed in my day to night warm attire so I was considerably sweating. I had also been doing a lot of walking earlier on Union Street, so my energy level was not that high. Nevertheless, I had to see it for myself. As I stopped after the first bridge, I bumped into this couple who had arrived from New Jersey, stopping in SF for a couple of days to see their friend before heading out to San Diego. We made the climb to Lombard together and talking to them made it a little painful.
At each hill, we stopped and took pictures that would commemorate how high we'd climbed. They were also planning to head over to Fisherman's Wharf and then to Alcatraz on the nightly tour. We talked as we walked and were instantly amused at the San Franciscans that swiftly passed by us on the hilly climb. I thought, they must all have firm thighs in this city.
We made it, out of breath and hopefully several burnt calories later, there it was. Crowded is an underwhelming description. Every type of tourist was there. Some chose to use their cars to navigate the narrow road, while some took videos and the others just stood in my way distorting me from taking a good enough picture of this infamous road that I had worked so hard to get to. It was worth the climb.
A few short less hilly steps later, I made it to Fisherman's Wharf. Walked to the closest bar I could find - Capurro's - and ordered me a good stiff one from their happy hour menu.
My thighs were throbbing at this point and the drink couldn't be consumed fast enough. I ordered a couple more, admired the lazy afternoon view of vacationers, called my mum and broke away, slightly tipsy.
Walked by the street vendors and had them do a caricature picture of myself. The same street artists I had experienced 3 years ago were surprisingly still in business. Walked by a couple of wine stores, and briefly considered doing some wine tasting but they were at a very steep cost. I thought wine tasting was supposed to be free. Don't they want people to test these wines and inevitably buy a bottle, how can you when you've already spent the money tasting a "wine flight"? Went into Cellar 360 and it was amazing. Like a mini wine factory complete with boxes of wine, a tasting section and of course, a tasting room. The tasting didn't cost that much and it seemed like they had a wider variety of wine than the other wine cellars I had passed. Plus they had this awesome view of the ocean from the wine tasting room, where you could catch a glimpse of some swimmers, the waves and boats going up to Alcatraz.
The wine attendant was so nice. He was this sweet old man that reminded me of my boss back home. He was tending to this tall gentleman who was standing a couple of feet from me, so we all ended up talking together. They were natives and there I was, the tourist. We swapped stories about SF, and all the places as a tourist you needed to go. The wine guy had surprisingly never been to Alcatraz after having lived there for the longest time. The tall guy was a member of the wine club and a yoga instructor during the weekend. He said the wine store was his escape from a hard day of work, he would stop by there, chat with the wine guy and stare at that awesome view. I thought that was nice to have, to even have a bartender that remembers your name and what drink you like is an awesome thing. I hardly even get that in Atlanta. I told them about my tales for the past 3 days. I told them how folks at Yelp had suggested I go over to the Tenderloin and they squirmed. The Tenderloin was not a good place to be. It totally made me feel so stupid to even mention it.
The wine store was getting ready to close so I had to wrap this up. We ended up finishing some of the "stale" wine. You know when wine has been opened for about 2 days they consider it bad, weak and tired, and pour it out. If you happen to be out and about when this incredible waste occurs then it is your lucky day because you get to drink some good shit. Really good shit. A couple of glasses later I thought I was done. But being that I had never experienced a nice San Francisco bar, my gentleman companion decided to indulge me.
We walked over to Black Magic Voodoo Lounge, which even though it may have had its charms was not appealing to me. A bunch of people just sitting around drinking booze with no live music (a jukebox) and not much else going on was not my idea of fun. My companion agreed. He also noted that the bartender was lacking in charm compared to the adorable sweet wine guy we had both just experienced. I swallowed my drink and concurred. A couple from Modesto, CA that was in need of fun (I could tell from the look on their faces) joined us. We took a hike, buzzed up no less, my companion was trying to take us to what he termed, the "smallest bar in San Francisco". We got there and indeed it was teeny tiny. It was more like a slice. The slice was packed so much the people spilt out onto the streets. From there, we hiked some more to Rex Cafe. I was famished at this point. The only reasonable food being the fries from earlier that day. We sat down and ordered from their late night happy hour menu. I ordered a grilled chicken sandwich.
Minutes later, the couple went outside to smoke since SF is sane they don't let people smoke in bars/clubs/restaurants. Minutes later, they were a no show. My companion soon figured it out - the couple had bailed. He went outside to look for them and no sign of them. They had paid their tab and skipped out on us without even saying goodbye. I was bummed. My companion was more than bummed, he was pissed off. I thought we had made a nice foursome. Men talking on one side, women on the other. I don't know what we said to scare them away. Maybe it was the fact that we met by chance that seemed to freak them out a little. Whatever it was, they decided to leave us without even a word of goodbye.
That's the thing about vacationing alone. You meet good people who are sweet and hospitable to tourists and will care enough to show you around, show you a good time, like my companion. Then, you meet people who just think you are weird and they would rather not have anything to do with you. It's disappointing. I hope they don't plan to go to another country anytime soon, I would love to bail on them in a foreign country.
I finished my delicious sandwich, complaining between mouthfuls. Why does food always taste so good when you are slightly (or maybe extremely) buzzed? Could never understand that. I would go back there just to eat that food again. My companion walked me close to my hotel and then we said our goodbyes. You see he wasn't trying to get some, he was just being nice.
Food and fun rating for this extremely long day, A+.
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