lost, for a little while

destination: san francisco
July 2, 2011, 12:30 am
Filed under: trips

Cuter than elephant seals, but less entertaining

Here’s a secret: travel, much like life, is not always exciting. You won’t always have a memorable meal, or meet a crazy stranger, or even enjoy a famous museum or monument. You’ll walk a lot, and worry about getting things done, and get lost, and walk some more, and at the end of the day, you’ll feel exhausted and content, but you won’t have any stories to tell.

No interesting ones, anyway.

I’m not trying to suggest that I had a bad time in San Francisco–far from it–but each time I’ve sat down to try to write this post, I’ve done nothing but stare at the screen and wrack my brains for something, anything, entertaining to share. Where other stops have had their stand-out events or favorite moments, San Francisco was more about the thoughts and feelings I had while wandering the neighborhoods by myself for those four days. Because, despite all the maps I crammed into my car and the GPS that I use obsessively, I can still manage to get lost in my own head.


You think that Golden Gate Park must be pretty close to the Golden Gate Bridge, and start walking.

It’s not.


 You wish that the sign was shorter; you’re itching to draw an ‘i’ on the end.


They wanted you to pay $5 to see this? Sneaking in was the right choice.


You can never resist hippie stores filled with Tibetan trinkets and useless junk. A peace dove made out of a silkworm cocoon, handcrafted by artisans in Indonesia? Yes, please!


You are so much taller than 90% of the people here.


 After more than 10,000 miles, winding roads on narrow cliffsides, and sleeping in the backseat for countless nights, you’re pretty sure your car can handle anything. That doesn’t stop you from panicking when the light turns red and you’re only halfway up one of San Francisco’s vicious inclines.

Sorry for ever doubting you, Blue.


There don’t seem to be any fat people in San Francisco, and you think that they probably all just died trying to walk up the hills.


 Even with all the fog that hangs around the city, you’re pretty sure that if you lived in one of these houses, you’d never feel depressed ever again.


 Your best food recommendation comes from a 70-something-year-old with white mutton chops and ceiling-high stacks of books around his apartment.

The carne asada burrito at La Taqueria was so good, it didn’t matter that a dachshund was running loose between the tables, looking very much like a large rodent.


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