After our brunch, we headed down the now familiar 17th Street, to Castro Street, to take our street car North to Pacific Heights. We had been there a several days ago, but this time after walking through Cow Hollow and the Marina, we would be heading West towards the Golden Gate Bridge.
As we walked down Fillmore Street, the cold wind started to blow. We were sorry we did not bring our polars with us, and wondered how it would be closer to the water.
At the Marina, we were again met with impressive sights of the Bay, Alcatraz and of course the Golden Gate Bridge. When the wind did not blow, the strong sun felt so nice and warm. Just enough to make you wonder if you should take off your jacket, when another cold gust of wind would blow.
We walked towards the Golden Gate Bridge. Our immediate destination was the Palace of Fine Arts, and perhaps to continue until we got to Fort Point at the base of the Golden Gate Bridge.
The only remaining structure of San Francisco's Panama-Pacific Exhibition of 1915, the Palace of Fine Arts is a classical structure so different from the architecture of the city, yet surprisingly, it fits in so well.
We took a very slow leisurely walk through the complex, and then around the pond. Part of the magic, is the flora. The architecture and the various plants blend together so well, affording a different feel from each vantage point.
Leaving the shelter of Palace, we walked back towards the water. The cold wind again blew hard. We looked towards the bridge, a good walk into the wind, and decided to leave it for another day.
We headed back into town, and walked along Chestnut Street. Peeking into various shops and cafes, and decided to take a break at "The Grove." We ordered a pint of beer and shared a plate of hummus. It felt good to sit, and people watch for a bit.
But soon we were back out, and we hopped onto a street car towards Fisherman's Wharf and got off at Hyde Street. We could have tried our luck and wait for a cable car, but we had seen the hour long line at the beginning of the line to know full well that there would be no place for us. So we decided to hike up the steep hill. It was worth the climb, for each time we looked behind us, another higher view of the Bay, the Bridge and Alcatraz could be seen.
Finally we reached Lombard Street. For one block, Lombard Street is know as the crookedest street in the world. Eight turns were placed in the one block street in the 1920's so that cars could make it down the hill. It is a unique and very pretty street. But we were there too late in the day to fully appreciate it. Early morning, with the rising sun would be better.
We kept walking through the neighborhoods, and then tiring, we hopped on a bus. As long as it headed towards Markets Street, we knew our way home.
We had had brunch at Cafe Flore last Sunday, and Hera wanted to try a meal there. We could have sat outside, as there were out door heaters and the glass enclosures might have protected us from the wind. But we had enough of the cold wind and did not want to risk it. So we found a table inside, and settled down for supper.
I had a well made burger with steak fries, while Hera had a delicious plate of falafel, hummus, tabbouleh, Greek salad and feta, with some baked pita. We also shared a carafe of their lime Margarita.
After a wonderful supper, we were back out into the cold windy city, with our climb to get back home.
Cheers,
Hera & Anthony
