{san francisco} day two continued

Our second evening in San Francisco consisted of that same walk where I gave up on the prospect of taking pictures. The recap:

Out the hotel door and left onto Geary.

Left onto Powell. And up and up and up.

Left onto California where things leveled out for a bit.

Right onto Jones. And up. Again.

Passed Vallejo, the scene of both crimes.

Continued to the intersection of Jones & Green, where we got an amazing view of Alcatraz.

Left onto Green.
Right onto Leavenworth.

Passed notoriously squiggly Lombard Street.

Merged left onto Columbus.

And left onto Beach.

Where I caught my very first glimpse of the Golden Gate Bridge! It was a couple of miles off in the distance. Tiny and orange-red and hazy from the distance. Like a dork, I almost cried with excitement. How strange it was to see something so familiar, so widely known and seen in movies and photographs! How strange and wonderful to see it in person!

We braved the crowd and headed up to Ghirardelli Square, but decided not to go in. We did some more wandering along Fisherman's Wharf, searching for an apparently non-existent Barnes & Noble. All the while, the sun was shining and we were happy, though our feet were tired after two days of seemingly endless walking. So we took a chance with a streetcar and ended up at Market, near our hotel. We arrived in the early evening, the sky darkening around us, and decided it was finally time to eat. Something. Somewhere.

We settled on Chinese food in Chinatown. Where else?

Apparently Chinatown is practically dead at nine o'clock at night but we managed to find a subdued Dim Sum House still open. We were served tea in tiny white handleless tea cups from an aged silver teapot. We ate wonton soup and loads of lo, excuse me, chow mein. The meal ended with the requisite fortune cookies where my fortune was the answer to his:

Something on four wheels will soon be a fun investment for you!

A four-wheeled adventure will soon bring you happiness.

We left Chinatown and in the darkness, on one of the streets, a musician was playing the saxophone, the acoustics reverberating between the tall buildings. A confidently round sound, neither lonely nor joyful, but perfectly fitting for a dark, cool night on a slow corner. 

More to come...