After arriving late in Oakland, my aunts took us around and gave us a night tour. It was like tourism foreplay, since we could see so much but couldn’t do anything until the next day.
We woke up early and drove across the Bay Bridge, which up until a month ago I thought was the same as the Golden Gate. And I thought I was so educated…
About seven minutes later, we were in San Francisco, and how sweet it was. Even for a weekday, it was busy, busy and there were so many different kinds of people everywhere. The weather was warmer than usual, as we were told many a time, and the haze that can frequent the city on the bay was far thinner than usual.
We hit Lombard Street (the crookedest street, you know?), a few little parks, and finally made our way to the Golden Gate Bridge, a popular destination in my head since “Full House” blatantly shoved it in my face in the 90s. P.S. We played the theme song driving over the bridge. I implore anyone to do the same.
After a lot of mental preparation on my part, we walked about half of the bridge and back. It was amazing to be in the presence of such an imposing architectural structure, to have such a stellar view of the city, and to overpower my crippling fear of heights all at the same time. I even looked over the edge once. Scoorrrrreee!
Call it cliche if you will, but I’ve had a dream of standing on the corner of Haight and Ashbury for as long as I have been aware of their significance in so many of the things I love. My aunt delivered, and though it’s not the same as this, we do have a photo on the corner of these two culturally important streets.
We then went to The Stinking Rose, which is, I shit you not, a GARLIC restaurant. My grandpa would have fainted, but being a garlic fanatic, I was stoked. My pasta was covered in garlic that quite literally melted in my mouth. Pure heaven.