We just had eggs and toast and potatoes and coffee, but for the record, they also had avocado shakes. It was an oddly decorated place -- sort of a Chinese Mel's Diner with a bull head. But I liked it.
Then we headed out for the day. I wanted to drive, but Sweetie wanted to take transit. I think we was scared from the day before -- in S.F., people are sort of scary, aggressive drivers anyway, and when you mix them with the tourists who don't know where they're going, streetcars that barrel down the center lanes, massively steep hills, and (let's face it) many elderly Chinese people, you're just asking for trouble. Anyway, we walked catty-corner from the motel, where there is supposed to be an "L" streetcar that goes straight downtown. But the streetcar wasn't going this weekend, so there was a bus instead. We got off on Castro and walked around there for a while. It has really good shopping, but we were there before most of the stores opened. Sweetie thought it was a little "too out" for him, probably because it is the gay district in a gay town, and most of the store windows featured male mannequins in underpants that were stuffed with who-knows-what. Funny.
Then we walked to the Haight area. This proved more fruitful, for though it was still early (a few minutes before 11), most of the stores were beginning to open, including Giant Robot. We bought lots of toys.
We went in a few more shops, then stopped for a cold drink (those Izze sodas are yummy!). Then we walked a few blocks to a bus that would take us to Market street. This was the first long wait for a bus that day, but it was an omen. We got off about a block south of Market, in the Tenderloin, and even that was a little too much color for me. Between the drunk who literally fell off the curb and did a somersault, to the dead, brain-leaking pigeon on the same corner, we were a little full of the South of Market area. It was lunchtime, and we were looking for our favorite Thai restaurant, but got sidetracked several times by shopping excursions. Sweetie bought a new backpack and a polo shirt that he swore me to secrecy as to the price of. I spent the same amount on a skirt, dress and pants at H&M. Heh heh. We also went to the Tintin store, where Sweetie got two pieces of art (very cool ones) and a new book, and had his picture taken with Herge.
By then, we were like "Eh, screw eating down here, let's go to Pier 39." So we did. We took a bus that went through Chinatown (which was absolutely bustling with activity) and North Beach, which wasn't. Here is me with Coit Tower growing out of my shoulder.
We got off in North Beach and walked a few blocks to the Pier. It was overrun with tourists (which we were, too, I know), and Sweetie made about a two minute dash through the entire thing, declared it "a bunch of shit-peddlers" and we got a soft pretzel and sat down and ate. There were probably hundreds of sea lions sunning by the pier, from which you can see Alcatraz.
We were debating what to do next. I wanted to go to Ghiradelli Square, but we were both a little tired. We decided to go ahead and go, and on the way, saw people on a Segway tour and a very odd bicycle.
I bought lots of chocolate at Ghiradelli Square (they have a new line of "Intense Dark" bars) and the most delicious chocolate-covered strawberry ever.
Then we walked back to the stop where the "F" streetcar is supposed to pick us up. There is a helpful LED sign that tells when the streetcar is coming. Only 4 minutes, and the one after that in 9 minutes. We wait about two minutes. The times now say 7 and 11 minutes. We wait another two minutes. The sign says "arriving" and 14 minutes. No streetcar arrives. We wait. Finally a streetcar goes by, but it is full and doesn't stop. We got there at 3:45, and at 4:10, we leave. We decide to walk to the 19, which will also take us to Market street (Market is kind of the hub -- you can go anywhere from there). It is on Polk. Well, we were in a bit of a hurry, and mistook one bus line for another. Polk was 6 blocks away, not the expected 2. In the meantime, we got turned around on Columbus, which cuts diagonally across the other streets, and end up walking a total of 14 blocks to the bus stop. On the way, we pass bus 19 -- getting towed. I would like to state for the record that 14 blocks is nothing, if your shoe isn't broken and you aren't going up and down hills like this.
So we were both cranky and tired when we finally (at 5) got to Market. Needless to say, we'd have appreciated it if the signs there at the bus stop were labeled correctly. For example, we waited for 20 minutes for an "L", and we were waiting under a sign that said "L", but we actually had to take another bus four blocks down to actually catch the "L", which we only found out because I accosted the driver of the second "N" to roll by. At 6:15, we reached the motel. So yes, we spent 2 1/2 hours of our 46 hours in San Francisco waiting for, walking to, or on Muni. It sucked. It sucked so much that by the time we got back to the motel, Sweetie didn't even seem enthused about going out to eat, and it was WAY later than usual dinnertime, and we'd only had a soft pretzel since breakfast at 7-something.
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