I'm not sure what triggered it, but this morning I woke up thinking about San Francisco. Maybe I was dreaming about eating Rice-A-Roni. Regardless, it reminded me of my trip to the city a few months before I started my blog. And it seemed like such a shame. So here's my humble and likely overdue attempt at recapturing the magic:
This shot of the landmark bridge revealed itself after I
hiked my way up the biggest hill, no mountain, of my life.
Closer to the ocean, along a lengthy pier, is Fishermans
Wharf where the odor of over-breaded fried seafood hangs
in the air attracting seagulls from the East Coast.
Some of the fare at the Wharf.
Alcatraz Island. Sadly I didn't get to tour the penitentiary,
but I've watched a lot of TV specials and movies about it.
And that has to count for something.
I was so glad I accidentally stumbled upon a row of
colorful townhouses stacked together on a steep hill.