"Bagdad-by-the-Bay" a San Francisco Travel Page by topoftheworl

In the light of events recent, maybe not a good choice of words, BUT...that is what Herb Caen called it. He was the 'Sackamena Kid.' A daily columnist for the local commie rag, he loved this town and shared that love, daily, five days a week. I dedicate this page to him. Thank you, Herb. (He would say, every first of May, Hooray, its the first of May: Outdoor Boinking begins today!)

San Francisco... what can one say about it? A city the size of a postage stamp, with enough content to fill a set of Brittanicas! To do justice to it, let me begin by telling you about the neighborhoods... bear with me, for each is unique...

There is also a travelogue section, box at the bottom of the page..

SAN FRANCISCO, the City by the Bay...

How does one explain to the un-visitor, what San Francisco is all about? The city by the Bay, The city that knows how, but does not realize, why. All meaningless, to one who has never been here.

The city was born in 1849, at the advent of the California Gold Rush. Sailors from across the world jumped ship when they heard the cry. "There's GOLD in dem dar hills!" And San Francisco was invented.

It is a city of vistas of beauty and sheer audacity. Look at me, it says. I am gods gift to earth, and if you don't believe it, I will show you!

The biggest Chinatown outside of China. At a McD's,
I asked for a fork. The girl behind the counter enquired,'you wanna fokk?' What a city I thought.

.

San Francisco is a town, which when flying in to, brings tears to my eyes, and a lump in my throat.
'San Francisco, open your golden gates' someone once sang. It did, to me, embracing me like a long lost love.

I love this towm. I love the fog racing in from the Pacific and curling its cold fingers over the city, plunging the temperature 20 degrees in twenty minutes! Watch the tourista scramble to their hotel roomss for sweaters in August! It started out a fine day, they complain as they shiver... what happened? The native smiles, and shrugs. He knows the secret: San Francisco
is not a city, it is a place in the theater of the mind, and it is not uncommon to see us wearing shades and raincoats at the same time.

Surfers at Fort Point, the best of friends and the bitterest of rivals. Valiant and graceful, as they ride the curls right under the Golden Gate. Locals watching applaud, at good runs, knowing that craggy rocks that lurk 'neath the waters just feet under them. One wrong move, and you are part of san fran lore. Can you say,'tubular,' dude? You can? You rock, dude!

I love it's neighborhoods, from the Mission, to North Beach to the Marina, to Union, Street and Square. Nob Hill, the sharp inclines gave me nightmares for nights! I used to hang out in North Beach, at a place owned and run by Rose Pistola, Auntie Rose, a san fran legend. I once asked her, 'how long before I am a native Ssan Franciscan?' She smiled and said, soon as you can hang your hat there, hon, pointing to a rack. The secret had been revealed! I went out and bought a hat...

In a sport where repeats at that kinda thing are tough, we invented the three-peat and then we five-peated. Ben'n'Jerry made ice-cream at home for the flower children in the Haight. They went national and became a household name. Then hired a CEO based on a poem he wrote, and self-destructed. STILL sold the co to
Haagen-Das, for a gazillion scheckels.

Years ago, in another life, I lived in Pacifica, a small coastal town 12 miles south. My paltry studio there was fifty feet over the ocean, and I never slept better.

Silicon Valley was born here. A tale of when Hewlett met Packard. Steve Jobs stole the GUI interface from Xerox PARC. Bill Gates stole it from him, and became richer than the Sultan of Brunei.

Alas, we had no space. We are a small towm. Seven miles square. We had to send them south to Santa Clara and Palo Alto and San Hosee. Lo, and behold. San Jose was invented.

The city on the hills, the cable cars, three million dreams, and ONE parking place.

How I love this town!

Museums that make Parisians go 'mon dieu' and the eating places... Dear reader, the food in this city is simply not to be found anywhere else. I will do a chapter on it. A couple of years ago, I read a stat that san franciscans eat out 267 nights a year... I wouldn't know, I eat out every night I am here.

But, what of you, noble visitor in my home?

You will stay at an overpriced hotel, eat at over-rated places, or will slum at a MickeyDee's.

Thats the raison de etre, for this page: so you can enjoy the city by the bay, as a local.

I love the roar of the mighty Pacific crashing onto Pt Bonita, or placidly flowing into Ocean Beach, knowing that Golden Gate Park, is but a discus throw away. On a bleak day, it is a desolate place.

"Then take me disappearin'
through the smoke rings of my mind
Down the foggy ruins of time
far past the frozen leaves
The haunted, frightened trees
out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach
of crazy sorrow.

Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky
with one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea,
circled by the circus sands
With all memory and fate
driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today
until tomorrow..."

Bob Zimmerman, aka Bob Dylan. More in the travelogue, botom.

We start with breakfast: Sears Fine Food, in Union Square is over-hyped and over-rated. Every hotel room recommends it.... you will not find seating. The place next door serves far better food.

As is 'Empress of China' in Chinatown. Grab a table at Nanking on Kearny, if you can find one, good AND cheap. Or, go to Brandy Ho's on Columbus, and if you want a
real treat, the Lichee Garden on Powell is the best. Added bonus: Dim Sum at lunch. Be prepared for a lot of chinese people, chatting noisily, each armed with a cell-phone.

DO have a drink at the Carnelian Room, 54 floors atop the BOA building, sunsets that defy the imagination, thereby making it stronger. Dinner there is not bad either. You can invite me, too.

Portrero Hill with its Goats Cheese pizza, L'Osteria in North Beach, home of the pizza bianca, the marina, where I play tennis, where the crazy runners/inline skaters/power walkers are convinced that it is the body that is eternal, not the soul. Chinatown. I love them All.

How can one say what is unsayable? 'When I had no ears, you spoke to me' The Grateful Dead. Did I tell you, a local SF band? Jerry's both, Garcia and Rice. And Montana, Joe. Two Minute Joe, three touchdowns in two minutes! The greatest quarterback to play the game.
In a sport where repeats at that kinda thing are tough, we invented the three-peat and then we five-peated. Ben'n'Jerry made ice-cream at home for the flower children in the Haight. They went national and became a household name. Then hired a CEO based on a poem he wrote, and self-destructed. STILL sold the co to Haagen-Das, for a gazillion

COMING SOON:
the bridges
the parks
devils slide
HMB & Pillar Point
The best fish'n'chips on earth
Santa Cruz and Monterey
Napa
Truckee
(Truckee? Sure, its my page, I write what I want.)
...... and the best food guide you ever saw!

They are in the form of travelogues, the first of which
is under construction. It is called 'Road Trip.'

The second is already up, 'the Food Page.' Below.