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My ride into the city took longer this time, first the high-speed electric train was late, then we were further delayed while a bomb sniffing dog checked out the entire train. There was nothing in the news about it but I wondered if it was related to the plane plot that British authorities uncovered the day before. Good news is our train made it safely into downtown where I immediately caught a bus out to the Haight.

The Haight Ashbury district was home to the bohemian counter-culture of the 1960s when musicians like Janis Joplin and the Grateful Dead lived in the neighborhood. The area has some of the oldest houses in San Francisco, many were built in the 1890s and somehow survived the destructive earthquake and fire of 1906.

Today anything goes in the area as long as it isn’t mainstream: organic stores, head shops, eclectic clothing stores and funky restaurants. The only weird exception is the Gap store, maybe it is allowed because the Gap started in San Francisco? The area reminded me of 4th Ave in Tucson, just bigger, more famous and with a lot more British tourists! As I wandered I tried to remember the point of it all, why did all of us tourists flock here, what were we hoping to find?

I pondered these things as I walked down the hill (I feel that’s all I’ve done lately is walk up and down hills) to Chinatown. The large ornate, gate was a fitting entrance to the oldest and largest Chinese community in the US. Established in the 1850s the many alleys and side streets still exude an authentic Chinese aura. The tall buildings house businesses in the lower levels with apartments in the upper floors. As people streamed past me (mostly speaking Chinese), I stared up and watched children playing on their small balcony as laundry flapped over their heads. What we consider a major tourist attraction is their home.

All the signs were bilingual, even the street signs! It seemed that there was not a single blank space on any wall, there were banners and bright colors everywhere. Mesmerized I listened to a wizened old Chinese man playing an Erhu (2 stringed violin-like instrument) on a street corner. (Video: Ehru Video [1.1 MB]. Need video help?.) The Erhu is over 1500 years old and has a very raw yet strangely enticing sound. This is where author Amy Tan grew up, truly a separate world.

As I continued north on Grant Ave, the oldest street in the city, the layers of foreign sound and bright colors were left behind but “Little Italy” has its own flavor. The area is more widely known as North Beach and at one time it really was a beach. As a result of the Gold Rush, abandoned ships littered the area. Since land was in short supply the ships were sunk, garbage, dirt and sand were thrown on top and the newly created land was sold, mostly to Italian immigrants. The names of the shops and restaurants are clearly Italian: Marios, Figaro and Mona Lisa, to name a few. The area might be best known as the hangout of Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg but I like knowing that Joe DiMaggio grew up here. I grabbed a bite to eat (pizza, of course) in preparation for the climb up nearby Telegraph Hill.

Telegraph Hill, the highest point in the city, gets its name from the telegraph station that once operated here. The telegraph relayed the nationality of each ship entering the harbor to the Port below. The telegraph has long since gone and now the hill is topped by Coit Tower. The money for the Tower was donated in 1929 by Lillie Hitchcock Coit in an attempt to “beautify the skyline”. While I remain unconvinced of its exterior beauty I fell in love with the interior murals commissioned by Roosevelt’s Federal Art Project during the Depression.

I opted to not wait in line (and pay) to climb the 210’ tower and wandered outside instead. I watched the fog roll in over the Golden Gate Bridge as the temperature dropped. I picked one of many paths leading away from the Tower and discovered a secluded set of stairs. Intrigued, I followed them down past lush gardens and beautiful, hidden, hillside homes with lovely views.

The stairs dropped me into town on Montgomery St. so I wandered south to the BART station where I met Lance. We walked over to the Powell/Market turnaround and watched a cable car get spun (Video: Cable Car Turn [568 KB]. Need video help?). As we were watching we heard some cool music so we followed our ears to the source. A jazz/funk band was playing on the sidewalk and they had everyone tapping their toes, a few of the less inhibited even danced. We listened to a few tunes then tore ourselves away to meet Tim for dinner.

We met at an Indian restaurant which was a bit spicy but excellent. One of the nice things about knowing people in a strange town, they know where all the good food is! We’re glad to catch up with Tim as we won’t see him for awhile. He’ll be going to Korea to visit family and then on to Australia. Lucky dog!

Because its our last night in San Francisco and because it is a historic landmark we rode the Powell/Mason cable car after dinner. From Nob Hill we wandered down through Union Square and eventually back to the Powell St. BART station. Lance and I said goodbye to Tim and caught the train back to our RV in El Cerrito. Tomorrow we leave the Bay breeze behind as we head inland to Sacramento.

Photos: View the pictures I took to go with this post: San Francisco Day 2.

Dates and notes: We enjoyed a lovely stay in the Bay Area 08/07/06 – 08/11/06 at Audiss RV Park in El Cerrito (north of Berkeley).