NorCal Road Trip Day 8: Leaving San(s) Francisco
On our morning walk to Lava Java for coffee (we loved the feel of nodal housing), I asked Rebecca what she really wanted to see before we had to go to the airport. She was torn between Fisherman’s Wharf and Chinatown. So, we checked out of our hotel and set out to visit both areas. But ultimately, we ran out of time.
At Fisherman’s Wharf, we visited Pier 39, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sea lions that were said to rest on the docks. We could hear their barking before we could see them. They were all over the floating docks by the pier. Some slept, some dreamt and others basked in the sun with their heads stretched toward the sky in a pose that would make a yoga instructor proud. It might sound silly, but all I needed was to see some sea lions, Alcatraz Island in the distance and do a little looking around the touristy shops, including Lefty’s the Left Hand Store (which made me feel understood and known). After those boxes were checked and I ate some delicious crepes, I felt ready to go home.
We’ll get back to San Francisco soon to get a more complete experience. We have a handwritten list of recommendations from a local who sat next to us on our flight to San Francisco to go along with a list of our own activities (Thanks, Luke!). San Francisco has so much to offer, so we’ll definitely be returning for a Twin Peaks picnic, Alcatraz tour, Coit Tower sunset and Giants baseball game.
Still, I was proud of how our trip turned out. We took the time we needed the day before to enjoy the coast and did a good job of exploring the city while we were there. And after all, our trip was designed primarily as a Lost Coast and Wine Country road trip. We had an incredible experience, fell in love with the landscape, experienced kindness that rivals Southern hospitality and secretly scouted the area as a potential future home. One way or another, I’m sure we’ll be back.
But as I watched San Francisco locals go about their everyday life—jogging through the park, hopping on a bus or sitting among their belongings on a sidewalk—I couldn’t help but wonder about their stories, where they were from and what they thought about this place. San Francisco is much more charming than other major cities I’ve experienced, but it’s still a city.
Being from a small college town, I felt like San Francisco was so dense and compact that you could be born and live your entire life there, one of nearly a million people comprising a hundred different neighborhoods, cultures and microclimates with your view of the horizon usually blocked by skyscrapers or steep hills.
It made me wonder: if you had everything you needed right there in the city with no shortage of people, buildings and distractions, could you forget about the world that lies beyond your seemingly self-sustaining peninsula?
Could you forget what lies beyond the carefully planned grids of concrete and cordoned off areas reserved for trees?
Beyond the bridges and bays surrounding you?
Beyond the interstates connecting you to Sacramento or Los Angeles?
Could you forget about the ancient wisdom that comes with tending a vineyard?
About the forests of giants older than your country?
About a coast that’s already been lost once?
My hope is that we never do.
