I just flew in from San Francisco and, boy, are my arms–sorry. Let’s not go there.
A couple of months ago, in the heart of an extremely cold and snowy winter, I suddenly had an urge to be in San Francisco. I was born there, but we moved away when I was about a year old or so. I’ve been back a couple of times since then, but the last time I was there was 25 years ago. Why I had this urge to go back, I can’t really say, but it was there. My girlfriend, Berkie, had never been. We both looked into airfares and hotel rates, discovering that a trip was actually affordable.
And so we went. 5 Days and 4 nights in the city of my birth. We had an amazing time. I’ve said before that San Francisco is my favorite American city. This trip confirmed it. Berkie and I were terribly sad to leave the Bay Area.
We stayed at the San Remo Hotel, which I highly recommend. It’s cozy and beautiful, with very friendly staff. It’s in North Beach, a few blocks from Fisherman’s Wharf. Across the street is a fabulous coffee shop, Caffe Capriccio, where we had breakfast every morning.
While in the Bay Area, we geeked out outside of Mythbusters HQ, visited the grave of Emperor Norton, discovered why people are so fanatical about Trader Joe’s (because it’s awesome!), checked out City Lights, saw the house in Berkeley where my parents lived when I was born, met some online friends in person for the first time, saw some college friends I haven’t seen in 15 years, and ate loads of incredible food. We traveled around the Bay Area by foot, bus, trolley, BART and car. We fell in love with the restaurants and coffee shops, the architecture and design, the multicultural mishmash of people. If I didn’t have so many friends and family here in Kansas City, and if the Bay Area wasn’t so freaking expensive, I’d move there in half a heartbeat.
I’ve posted my vacation snaps to Flickr. Check ’em out, if you’d like.