Telephotographer

Where was I? Oh yeah. Photogenic.

So, a while back, Simon's mom gave us a deck of "activity cards" for things to do in and around the City, and last Sunday, for lack of a plan that didn't require the missing bike pump or GPS cord, we ended up selecting a card from the deck that led up one side of Telegraph Hill and down another. You'll recognize Telegraph Hill from
this picture I took last weekend on my photo outing along the Embarcadero. It's the hill with all the butt-crunching staircases and the big phallus (actually called Coit Tower, heh) at the top. We parked on the hill, walked down it, walked up it, walked down it again, walked around the middle, walked the rest of the way down again, and then walked back up to the car again--about four hours in all. Along the way we met a firefighter pimping his equipment, saw some killer views of the bay all speckled with sailboats, discovered a hillside restaurant shaped like a castle, admired many "quaint" multimillion-dollar homes, relaxed on the lawn among our flesh-bearing peers and their pissing dogs at Washington Square Park, followed a flock of displaced parrots overhead, sampled free taffy and fudge in North Beach (SF's Little Italy), marvelled at the mere existence of candy cigarettes in this politically correct era and area, had drinkies and listened to bluesish live music at The Saloon, navigated strange music shops, and went up and down many many stairs and hills. Did I mention it was sunny and a perfect 72 degrees?

Proof:

Here are three views of Coit Tower from throughout the day:

Northerly, at midday, from our parking spot

Southerly, at late afternoon, from the top of the Filbert Street Steps (see below)

Westerly, at sunset, from the bottom of a very very very steep hill, up which we then proceeded to walk

Speaking of very very very steep things, the Filbert Steps are, according to Wikipedia, Officially Very Very Very Steep, and we walked down them and up them again looking for the famous wild parrots. We didn't see them in their usual roosting grounds but instead caught them flocking overhead about ten minutes and five blocks later, just a noisy flash of green and red and yellow against the blue sky. Note to self: Netflix the film.

In our ups and downs along the jungley Filbert, we came upon some lovely flora and, hidden away beyond the No Trespassing signs, an alleyway zen garden.

The views from atop Telegraph Hill were amazing.

Downtown San Francisco

The Bay Bridge and Treasure Island

The hazy and washed-out Golden Gate Bridge

A lot of the places we ended up were swarming with tourists, and even though I wanted to shake each of their hands in congratulations for having come to this fair city on such a fine day, I have to admit that we had the most fun crawling the local scene. Well, not exactly local local, but at least nowhere with a plaque commemorating the historical splendor of every square foot of concrete upon which we stood.

Check out how this road dips way down and then way up again like a rollercoaster.

We visited the candy store on Columbus.

We lounged in Washington Square Park (see the tip of the TransAmerica tower?) and watched as, one by one, all the dogs of the county decided that the patch of grass two feet from me was the perfect place to pee.

One of the nicest stops was in front of a firehouse, where one extraordinarily friendly citizen-hero, sunning himself between emergencies, practically begged us to climb all over his equipment. Simon got inside the truck cab and asked a bunch of manly questions about what all the tubes and pipes do, and I took a picture in the gigantic bell on the grill. Sadly, I didn't ask if I could slide down the pole, which I really should have because he probably would have let me.

If I were to guess Simon's favorite stop, it would probably be the two music stores we popped into. He limited his purchases to a harmonica in the key of D (he played it along to Britney's song "Me Against the Music" when we got back in the car), but that didn't stop him from looking at and trying on some of the other wares.

As the shadows grew long and the streets fell under the shade of the cathedral, we ducked in for a spot of live music and a whiskey sour at what is reportedly the oldest bar in town (along with a dozen others, I'm sure), and then headed back up the hill to our car and a gentle sunset over the Golden Gate Bridge and the ocean beyond.

At the end of the day, that's a lot of pictures and four tired ol' feet, but how nice it is to enjoy the sunlight and sunwarmth (especially a whole extra hour of it!) after all those freezings. And how nice it is to have an unplanned day before us and then to fill it with ocean views and the clang of the fire engine bell and the chew of free candy and the cool grass between my fingers when I lean back on my hands and tip my face to the sky. How nice it is especially to talk about this and that and them and to look forward together to brief vacations and briefer getaways and blogging conferences and special visits from special out-of-town friends. Now is the Springtime of our greatest content.

wrote Leah at 6:38 AM | Comments (20)