Our second day in the north country was scheduled to be an out-and-about day with a road trip to San Francisco. We didn't scramble to get up and out too early, mind you. There would be traffic heading into town, we justified. (It certainly had nothing to do with the beds being too welcoming.) We lolled around and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast on Christine's fantastic fruit before piling in the car and heading to the bright lights and big city.
Petaluma is a hop, skip and a jump from San Fran. Within 30 minutes we were rounding a mountainous corner to see some fairly iconic orange towers rising before us. We pulled off the road to a spot on the Marin Headlands to get our triumphant view of the priceless Golden Gate.
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| Open up that Golden Gate!... |
In theory I was all for the day trip. My one and only hesitation about going to San Fran was my abject fear of trying to drive downtown. An automobile inexplicably called a “
minivan” and San Francisco’s petit passageways did not, in my thinking, make for a favorable combo. And I was not at all looking forward to endless roving around trying to find suitable parking. Fortunately GPS was my friend and we were able, with minimal wrong turns or missteps, to get to our primary destination – Pier 39 and Fisherman’s Wharf. And parking at a reasonable rip-off of $35 a day was actually quickly found without incident.
Ironically we had already recovered from the primary disappointment that was to color our trip – the night before we’d gone online to get tickets for the tour of Alcatraz to find that they were already sold out. For the entire week! L was particularly devastated. She wanted to see Alcatraz more than anything else in SF. I’m not exactly sure what drives this otherwise sweet and gentle child to her occasional grim fascination with the macabre. T-Rexes and bloodthirsty sharks were the first in a line of obsessions that now includes America’s most notorious prison. The day was crisp and clear and you could see Alcatraz, large and ominous, taunting us in the bay, but try as we might, no act was criminal enough to secure us passage to the Rock. (As a consolation we bought her some black and white stripped socks that said ALCATRAZ on them.)
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| The Rock denied! |
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| The consolation prize. |
We did the touristic ablutions on Pier 39 as required – we poked around the shops; the kids rode the merry-go-round, we climbed the musical stairs. We even had a decent clam chowder at a the Boudin Bakery.
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| N found a buddy on the merry-go-round |
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| Stacy found a store dedicated to GGPa. |
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| The Bay Bridge from Pier 39 |
N eschewed the clam chowder for the reliability of good ole salami.
From there we meandered to Fisherman’s Wharf where the U.S.S. Pampanito, a World War II vintage submarine, was docked. There were a lot of displays and exhibits on the War in the Pacific. It was especially interesting to read them with Hiroko whose perspective was quite interesting. L even got a chance to shoot a hull-mounted machine gun. (In my little fantasy world!)
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| The U.S.S. Pampanito |
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| WWII torpedo propeller |
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| "And the Oscar for Best Special Effects goes to..." |
At Ghirardelli Square we suffered greatly at the chocolatiers and then the ice cream parlor.
As we crossed back over to Aquatic Park beside the square we noticed the long line for the cable cars that climbed Russian Hill on Hyde Street. We debated a while whether or not to endure the line, but decided eventually to do it. After about a 30 to 40 minute wait we were at the front of the line and waved on through. Stacy, Hiroko, K and L all found the steps and stationed themselves inside the cabin. N and I had bigger, more exterior plans....
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| "You gotta promise me you won't tell Mom about this..." |
We took the trolley the full route up through Nob Hill to Washington Street, over to Powell Street and down the other side to the “South of Market” District.
The ride was the destination, so a quick dinner at a surprisingly not bad mall ramen noodle house sufficed for exploration and we were soon back on the cable car heading uphill. Not surprisingly, this time L insisted on riding with me...
As we headed back to Petaluma, which already felt like home, we made another quick stop at the Marin Headlands and the Golden Gate National Recreation Area to see the famous bridge in an evening light. Poor Christine got an earful when we finally tumbled through the door, the kids clanging like cable car bells, recounting their wondrous adventures.
Ironically we had already recovered from the primary disappointment that was to color our trip – the night before we’d gone online to get tickets for the tour of Alcatraz to find that they were already sold out. For the entire week! L was particularly devastated. She wanted to see Alcatraz more than anything else in SF. I’m not exactly sure what drives this otherwise sweet and gentle child to her occasional grim fascination with the macabre. T-Rexes and bloodthirsty sharks were the first in a line of obsessions that now includes America’s most notorious prison. The day was crisp and clear and you could see Alcatraz, large and ominous, taunting us in the bay, but try as we might, no act was criminal enough to secure us passage to the Rock. (As a consolation we bought her some black and white stripped socks that said ALCATRAZ on them.)
We did the touristic ablutions on Pier 39 as required – we poked around the shops; the kids rode the merry-go-round, we climbed the musical stairs. We even had a decent clam chowder at a the Boudin Bakery.
From there we meandered to Fisherman’s Wharf where the U.S.S. Pampanito, a World War II vintage submarine, was docked. There were a lot of displays and exhibits on the War in the Pacific. It was especially interesting to read them with Hiroko whose perspective was quite interesting. L even got a chance to shoot a hull-mounted machine gun. (In my little fantasy world!)
At Ghirardelli Square we suffered greatly at the chocolatiers and then the ice cream parlor.
As we crossed back over to Aquatic Park beside the square we noticed the long line for the cable cars that climbed Russian Hill on Hyde Street. We debated a while whether or not to endure the line, but decided eventually to do it. After about a 30 to 40 minute wait we were at the front of the line and waved on through. Stacy, Hiroko, K and L all found the steps and stationed themselves inside the cabin. N and I had bigger, more exterior plans.... 
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