Your eyes are not deceiving you, I’m actually posting on a Saturday! It’s a special Saturday because it’s also World Photography Day. Being that I am a true professional*, I would love to share some of my favorites to the masses**
*totally not a professional
**all 5 of you
I’ve posted most (all, probably) of these in previous posts but let me have this.
Obviously, some are more edited than others, some are straighter than others, some are overall better than others, but they all make me feel good. I could tell you a story about each one. I have, if you look hard enough, but I’m not going to do that right now. I haven’t been out with my camera probably since I was in California and I miss it. I have to get back on the horse and as soon as I do, I’ll be sure to inundate these pages with photo dumps. lucky ducks.
Welcome back for days 3 & 4 of Martina’s San Franciscan adventure. I’ve decided to lump Saturday and Sunday together because although we did things, I feel like I didn’t take enough pictures for two separate blog posts.
Saturday was a rough day for me. Being in the cold, wet air the night before and not feeling well to begin with was not ideal. Add on to that having to search for a backpack to replace mine that broke, I was not a happy camper. Our hotel was on the borderline of the Tenderloin neighborhood and Nob Hill. The Tenderloin is known for their homeless population. According to what we heard, it’s gotten better, but still not the nicest of areas. Nob Hill, on the other hand, is home to shopping. High end, luxury, I don’t even think we have one of those stores in New York shopping. We passed Yves Saint Laurent, a Tesla dealership, and Burberry on our way to the first H&M. They, of course, had no backpacks but told us to try the one in the mall. I wasn’t thrilled to be spending my precious tourist time in a mall, but necessity calls. We walked over to the mall and saw that they also had a Kate Spade, so things were brightening up. We found H&M and walked in, confident that I would find a simple backpack. Wasting no time, I strode up to the salesgirl and asked: “Do you have any backpacks?” To which I was greeted with a blank stare. “Ok, maybe ‘backpack’ is a regional word, like sneakers vs. tennis shoes. Let’s try again.” “you know”, I continued, “a bookbag?” *hand motions of God knows what, putting books in a bag, maybe?* “Oh, no, we don’t. Try the other store across the street.
Defeated, we walked out, trying to plan our next move. Again, I was done and ready for a nap. I cope well in all situations, obvs. Totes grounded and not at all dramatic. We walked around the mall for a bit and found a Kate Spade store. She had tons of cute things but nothing that I wanted needed to bring home. Finally, we ended up in Nordstrom Rack, where thankfully, I found something that would work and my mood brightened a bit.
Our plan for the day was taking a tour in an authentic VW bus. I was stoked (oh, look at me using the California lingo!). I felt very much like a hippie in my gauzy shirt with the little tassels on the sleeves. I bought a flower crown at Claire’s, I was ready to go. Except that a gauzy shirt paired with denim shorts is not the outfit you wear in 59 degree weather. So, again, I’m underdressed. And before anyone wonders why I didn’t just shut up and buy a sweatshirt – I totally misjudged on shopping. There were places I thought I would have time to get back to, even if I went by myself, but I didn’t. Bitching and moaning got me through, always does.
Back to the tour
looks like a hot summer day. nope.
The buses were painted with famous San Francisco landmarks or people who lived there, like Robin Williams, Maya Angelou (who used to be a trolley driver! at 13!), Jimi Hendrix, to name a few. They also had shag carpeting and a manual transmission. It was so cool. They played 60’s music the whole ride and the tour guide was really knowledgeable about each neighborhood we drove through. My only complaint was that our tour left late (bus issues, no biggie) and because of that we didn’t/weren’t able to get out and take pictures or see things up close. When I booked the tour, I was under the impression that we were going to stop at to see the Golden Gate Bridge (the fog wasn’t so bad that day) and in the Haight-Ashbury, but we didn’t and I was a little bummed. I already wrote a review on TripAdvisor, as the tour guide asked, so don’t think I’m using my blog to bash them. The tour was excellent otherwise.
My favorite area was probably the Haight. That’s where the Summer of Love originated. It’s the 50th anniversary of that summer and I wish I was there now to see it being celebrated. I never thought of myself as a hippie or like I would have fit in better in the 60’s, but man, the Haight made me want to braid my hair, throw on some beads and bell bottoms, hop in a DeLorean and see what it was all about.
Jimi Hendrix lived on top of what eventually became a smoke shop
Janis Joplin used to live here. Not the best neighbor, apparently.
The Greatful Dead’s former living space.
The Hell’s Angels used to reside in this house.
The biggest PRIDE flag in the country, some say the world.
The Castro is filled with murals. There were alleyways filled with them. Again, we weren’t able to get out and I missed a lot of good ones, but I tried.
Living in San Francisco proper is extremely expensive. I don’t even mean $10 for two 20oz bottles of Diet Coke. I mean over $3,000 a month rent in some places for a one bedroom studio. A ONE BEDROOM STUDIO! One bedroom and no walls. At least in New York, $3,000 would get you a two bedroom in a building with an elevator. Maybe. In the suburbs, it’s a mortgage payment on a pretty big house (I think. I still live with my roommates parents.)
The tour was supposed to take us down Lombard Street, which is the curviest street in America. California. The world. It’s really curvy and well known. Unfortunately, when we got there, it was closed off to vehicle traffic, which happens often. The residents want to close it off to any and all kinds of traffic eventually, which is problematic because how would they be able to access their homes? and two, who would enforce it? I can see their point though and if asked, I’d probably sign the petition.
Since we weren’t able to drive down the block, and that was the main reason I wanted to go on this tour, I made it my mission to get back. When the tour ended, it left us right next to the trolley turnaround. We hopped on the back of the line since one of the trolley’s stops was Lombard Street. About an hour later, we got on the trolley and started up the hill.
When the trolleys get to the turnaround, they stop on this jumbo sized lazy Susan and the workers manually spin it. Here’s a video.
Lombard Street was about five blocks up so we weren’t on the trolley for long. It was cold and windy so no one really minded. We got off when they announced the stop only to find out that the street was now open to vehicular traffic. I swear I almost called the tour company to come and pick us up. Since the street was open with cars on it, we walked on what would be the sidewalk but was really a shallow, long set of stairs. We got to the bottom and, of course, I was trying to channel Ansel Adams and get the perfect shot, but after about 10, I had to just give up.
We walked from the base of Lombard Street to Fisherman’s Wharf. If the streets were flat, it wouldn’t be bad, but the walk was about 6 long, steep blocks of hill. It was kind of scary because after a while my legs were like Jello. It felt like they were ready to give out at any minute. But was it worth it? TOTALLY. So authentic.
We went to the Wharf because we wanted to have a nice, seafood dinner that night and we needed to pick a place. We decided on Alioto’s, a place that’s been there forever and had white tablecloths. #fancy. We quickly Uber-ed back to the hotel to freshen up but Saturday was the coldest day and I felt like absolute crap so I didn’t do much with myself. Needless to say, no pictures were taken.
Sunday we didn’t have much planned except for brunch, the PRIDE parade, Ghiradelli Square and a ghost tour at night. Ok, maybe that’s alot. We had brunch at Sweet Maple. I’m dreaming of my french toast. I rarely eat sweet things like pancakes or french toast for breakfast but I could eat this one at least 2 times a week.
cornflake encrusted french toast.. come to mama
After brunch, we made our way over to see the parade. It was a few blocks from our hotel and where we were watching, it wasn’t too crowded. When I got home, my father told me he heard that the San Francisco parade had over a million people in attendance but the NYC one had about 500,000. I was surprised because, in New York, a million people feels like two million. It definitely didn’t feel like a million people in San Francisco. take note, NYC.
CELEBRITY SIGHTING: Andrea Navedo from Orange is the New Black (and Jane the Virgin) on the Netflix float!
CELEBRITY SIGHTING: Dascha Polanco and Samira Wiley on the back of the Netflix float!
kind of in love with this picture. is it too late to spam it to every instagram in san francisco, hoping someone will repost it?
his sign said “my safeword is impeach”
After the parade, we went over to Ghiradelli Square because I was dying for a hot fudge sundae. I never got one, but I enjoyed looking around at all of the cute shops in the square. It also reminded me of many of my childhood vacations. Quaint. Chocolatey.
We kind of floated through until it was time to decide on dinner. Nicole was given a recommendation for a restaurant in Chinatown. House of Nanking is famous for their sesame chicken, so of course, I ordered noodles. Nicole got the chicken and both were delish.
chinatown building, across from the house of nanking
When we were finished with dinner, we had time to kill so we walked to Union Square to meet up with our tour guide for the haunted tour. This tour and Saturday’s VW bus tour were the two I was most looking forward to. We met our guide, Momo, and immediately I wanted to take him home with me. His voice was so soothing, he was funny and also, in his spare time, a drag queen. He didn’t come dressed but I did notice lots of random glitter.
Momo took us to some notoriously haunted or really creepy places in the Union Square area. Since San Francisco is a relatively young city, it’s history wasn’t so much of a stretch. The only picture I took was of the lobby of the Westin Hotel, where Fatty Arbuckle may or may not have tried to molest a woman (definitely did) and ended up killing (smothering) her accidentally.
Nicole was a little wary of this tour so imagine mine and Jessica’s delight when Momo led us right into our hotel. It turns out that in that very spot, a very entrepreneurial (is that a word?) woman opened up a brothel. Our hotel was also right across the street from the spot where the Zodiac Killer picked up his last victim before he disappeared (Momo’s storytelling and dramatics scared the stuffing out of me with this one.) We were a few blocks away from where Jim Jones thought up and recruited people for Jonestown. And my personal favorite, the Pinecrest Diner murder.
When Momo was done giving us the chills we went back to the hotel, where I packed and finished my noodles in bed.
Sorry this is so long, my friends! Stay tuned for just a quick (maybe) recap of what I wish I got to do/see, what I recommend, etc.
Day 2 and we’re on a roll. For the record, my ears had pretty much fixed themselves after a good night’s sleep. thank heaven for little miracles.
Our second day was chock full of tourist things. I love being a tourist and really taking in my surroundings. So this was the day I was most excited for. So excited, in fact, I was thisclose to buying a fanny pack. A neon, see through fanny pack. living my best life.
We started the day early with a $13 egg mcmuffin and coffee that is still making hair grow on my back from the market in the hotel. It was a blessing and a curse that little store. After breakfast, we all Uber-ed to the pier so that Jess and I could hop on the ferry to Alcatraz.
Nicole doesn’t do boats so instead, she went to the Walt Disney Family Museum, which she loved. It was mostly how Disney started, where Walt got funding, etc.
Alcatraz was interesting. We decided to walk all the way up to the top of “The Rock” and get the headphones for the guided tour. I usually hate those tours, but this one was well done and nothing was really marked so it was nice to know what I was looking at.
i didn’t edit all of the pictures from Alcatraz but I wanted to share them so here’s a quick collage.
The last photo of the collage is Al Capone’s cell. Slightly underwhelming, frankly. His cell at Eastern State Penitentiary in Pennsylvania is all decorated as he had it when he was a resident there. Oh well. I love hearing stories of the Mob and old school gangsters and I thought that Alcatraz would be full of them, but not so much. Still a must see location. Go early though, it gets crowded.
After Alcatraz, we met back up with Nicole and made our way over to meet our next tour, which was of the Muir Woods. Getting there meant we had to ride over the Golden Gate Bridge and let me tell you, I was like a kid in a candy store. Karl, the fog, had been hiding the bridge since we had gotten there. Apparently, though, the bridge is more visible from the other side. So when it’s foggy, you have to cross it to see it. The driver gave us 10 minutes to explore and then we were on our way. I took advantage of those 10 minutes and pushed my way to a good vantage point, found someone who spoke English, and had them take our picture. LIKE A GOOD TOURIST.
I was obsessed with finding the bridge because #iconic, but also because I feel like coming from a city with a few famous bridges, it would be a disservice if I missed out on seeing/visiting another famous bridge. Kind of like a diplomatic mission.
I was so excited to finally see the giant redwoods. Are they really that big? Um. yes, probably bigger. They are gorgeous and I could have stayed there all day. It smelled like a zoo, minus the animals. Very woodsy (duh.)
this was soo illegal. well, against park rules. we hopped the fence to get a picture but there’s a reason why the fences are there. apparently, the roots are very shallow and if they’re stepped on and damaged, the tree could die. also, i assume they don’t want people falling over the roots. we decided to be badasses and then we were able to high-tail it out of there before the park ranger showed up. i feel bad because i don’t want anything to happen to 8,000 year old trees because I needed a photo, but #photoopps.
After dodging the park ranger (see caption a few photos up), we started to head back to the bus. The tour was making a quick stop in Sausalito, which I have no pictures of. It is a very quaint town on the water. It reminded of almost every place I used to vacation in when I was younger. It was beachy, without the beach. Think pastel colored collared shirts and khaki/tan shorts, maybe a visor, Sperrys. Very money – not in a Guy Fieri way.
We had little time after we got back to the hotel to get ready and summon yet another Uber to take us to the Mets vs. Giants game. Jess is a huge Mets fan so she begged and we agreed to go. The fact that there were cookie ice cream sandwiches at the ballpark really sweetened the deal (pun kind of intended). Being real team players and supportive friends, Nicole and I surprised Jessica by buying and wearing San Francisco Giants shirts. Hey, we’ll go, but we aren’t going to go quietly.
Remember how I said I wasn’t feeling well? Yea, that was still a thing and my throat was killing me by this point. The ballpark is right on the water and the nighttime fog was rolling in, bringing with it spritzes of rain. I was grossly underdressed (which I will talk about it a later post), so after the game, I was ready to hit the sack.
You know what they say about good things, right? They come to those who wait. To reward you for your extreme patience I am coming to you today with the first part of my San Francisco photo dumps!
So, I’ve decided to organize it by what we did/saw each day. That way 1) it’s not 56938 pictures all at once and 2) so it’s easier for me to give my opinions and tell anecdotes. fun.
Going to California was a big deal for me. This trip was to celebrate my, Jessica’s and Nicole’s 30th birthday, and our 25 years of friendship. It was also my first cross country flight and the first vacation that I took without my parents which may be kind of weird, given my age, but I was never one to want to sleep out and, frankly, I like having my vacations paid for by someone other than myself. Bottom line is that this trip was a long time coming and I was jazzed.
As I mentioned in my last post, I wasn’t feeling well when we left. I do NOT recommend going on vacation if you’re not feeling well. (duh.) We’ll come back to that though. The flight was thankfully uneventful. About 5 hours, one Anna Kendrick movie (Table 19 – definitely recommend), and a generous handful of Jersey Shore episodes later, WE ARRIVED.
This is over Colorado. I’ll give you 3 guesses as to what those white-capped turbulence makers in the middle of the photo are. If you guessed the Rockies, you’d be correct. If you guessed the Grand Canyon, you’d be Jessica. *sideeye emoji* For reference, they didn’t make a ton of turbulence, but from what I hear, they always make turbulence. Something about how the wind blows.
We landed at 3pm New York time. My ears were slightly clogged when we left, by now they were totally clogged. We made it to the hotel, waited in a forever line, only to be told they could only find my room reservation. And before you even ask, YES. I NEED MY OWN ROOM. Feeling myself unraveling quickly, I let Jessica take over. It was that or I would probably still be crying, draped dramatically over the front desk, like the Disney Princess that I am.
This was after they asked Jess to scoot over a few steps so that they can help the next person, to which she replied “Is this hotel fully booked? [Yes] Well, then I’m not moving.” Thank God for big suitcases.
Forty minutes later, we were on our way to our rooms. I was still fading fast. My ears were so clogged, I was tired from just the go, go, go of travel, drained from the stress of my friends not having a room, my carry on’s zipper had broken on the plane, and I was starving. All I wanted to do was collapse into bed and take a nap. Alas, there were things to do and places to see so I dropped off my bags, gathered myself and went back downstairs to find food. We were given the name of a cafe right across the street from the hotel so we decided before the hanger (hungry anger) overtook us all, off we went. I had a turkey club with avocado, which unfortunately would be the first and last time I had avocado in California. The fries were also delish.
We decided to do some of the smaller sights that night. First up was the house from Full House. There’s actually two. The one where they filmed the outside shots and the row of houses from the credits. Naturally, we did both.
We decided to walk to the next point of interest, which was the Mrs. Doubtfire house. I was super excited about this one because I loooove this movie. A little tip about San Francisco – almost everything is an 11-20 minute walk according to Google. Everything is also up or down steep hills. That being said, by the time we got to 2640 Steiner Street, I was ready to lie down. Maybe to die, maybe for a nap, I wasn’t too sure.
fans left messages to Robin Williams on the bricks and sidewalks. Most were taken down/painted over, but these were still here.
I had heard that the house was different in person than in the movie. It definitely was. First of all, in the movie, there was that nosey neighbor who called Miranda to rat Daniel out about the birthday party. IRL, that neighbor’s house isn’t even there. Second, in the movie, the front steps seem much higher. Like when Daniel is saying goodbye to the kids and his mother in law is watching from the top of the steps. She seemed further away from their conversation. Also, WHERE ARE MIRANDA’S BEGONIAS? Mrs. Doubtfire caught on fire while making dinner so she ordered food on the sneak. I could have sworn the delivery guy pulled into or in front of a driveway. I didn’t see one. Knowing myself though, the house is on the corner and I didn’t go around to the other side. Who knows what was over there.
After we were done with Mrs. D, we decided to Uber over to Alamo Square. The Uber took us almost on the exact same route we just walked which was fine by me because we didn’t have to do that death march again (San Francisco, I love you dearly, but those hills though, giiirl.)
Alamo Square is home to the houses in the opening credits of Full House. Also known as The Painted Ladies. Except the true definition of a Painted Lady is a Victorian style house painted with 3 or more colors. See also, a house Martina would like to own/live in.
whatever happened to predictability…
Our night plans were a little up in the air. By this time it was about 9pm in New York and we had been going all day. My ears were still an issue and I was just a little bit cranky. But I wasn’t going to let myself ruin this trip. No matter if I had to pull a Van Gogh and cut off my ear(s).
We must have had some dinner, although don’t ask me what or where. Then we decided to go to Twin Peaks. When we got back, Lisa asked me what the best part if the trip was and although I truly couldn’t choose just one thing, Twin Peaks was high on the list.
We summoned an Uber because it was wayyy too far from the hotel to walk, (we were realizing that Uber was going to be very useful for this vacation) and off we went. Abraham, our driver, was a gem. He took us up the winding roads that usually started or ended on a hill. GOD BLESS.
We got up there and he let us get out and spend however long we wanted up there. It was freezing so we took a few pictures and hopped back in the car. But man, what a view. The fog was a killer. The natives have named the fog Karl (supposedly) and boy, is he a pain.
After Twin Peaks, Abraham asked if we wanted to take a ride to Treasure Island. “Well, I didn’t expect to be on the news this early in the trip, but might as well get it over with.” I thought. Treasure Island is, from what I could tell, a military base and maybe a park that has views of San Francisco from behind.
After Treasure Island, we had Abraham drop us back at our hotel. We had a long, busy day the next day and we were exhausted. Or, I was, at least. I stopped at the little (yea, right. They had hot food, alcohol, and various snacks) market that was in the hotel lobby and bought two 20oz bottles of soda for my room and almost passed out when the lady told me “That will be $9.45” Oh, California.
Guess who’s back, back again, Teenie’s back, tell a friend.
ugh. teenie isn’t even my nickname, never really has been either. the things i do for this blog.
San Francisco was amazing. I already want to go back. who’s coming with me?
Check back for pictures and recommendations. Just give me a few days because 1) I have to do some editing #fortheblog and 2) I’m convinced I have a touch of tonsillitis, but that’s a story for another time.
Also, if anyone has any tricks on how to unclog their ears after a plane ride, SEND THEM MY WAY. I’m strugglin’ here.
I have to be up in about 5 hours but I’m not tired, so here I am. By the time you’re reading this I will be about an hour into a cross-country flight to San Francisco!
Guys, I’ve waited what feels like most of my (almost) 30 years to go to California. So, of course, my throat and sinuses decide NOW IS THE TIME to revolt and do things that they don’t usually do. Like, hurt and tickle for the past 10 days or so. The up-side is, I now have a sexy voice to use on all of the Californian boys (except it will probably be like that episode of SATC where Miranda meets up with her friend who moved from NY to LA and now instead of the anxious neurotic he used to be, he’s now laid back and chill. I can’t deal with that. I need someone fueled on coffee and sarcasm, not fresh air and avocados.).
We have some fun stuff planned and quite frankly, I can’t wait to sit and tell you all about it. My camera is all charged and it almost feels like it’s ready to do some work. These photo dumps are going to be large, my friends. GET READY.
I’ll be home in 4 days, so I’ll probably see you here in about 6 months.