San Francisco is easy city to leave your heart

I now know why the song “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” was popular, after leaving my own heart there following a five-day trip to the California city last week.


My wife, Jenny, and I went to the city because she was selected to give a presentation at the 36th Annual Alliance of Continuing Medical Education Conference at the San Francisco Marriot Marquis in the downtown area. While much of the trip was work related for her, it was pure vacation for me, as I didn’t even have the responsibility of being a father during the duration since our son, Braden, stayed in Wisconsin with his grandparents.

We arrived Wednesday, Jan. 26, and weren’t even in the city an hour before experiencing one of the things it is most famous for – the cable cars that transport people on some of the city’s massive hills. We took one from Market Street to Fisherman’s Wharf, marveling at how the transit system worked and how motorists somehow managed to avoid hitting them on the narrow streets.

At Fisherman’s Wharf, we saw a small group of sea lions on Pier 39, laughing at the barking noises they make. Marine biologists haven’t been able to exactly explain why the sea lions showed up at Pier 39 shortly after the 1989 earthquake, and they can’t explain why they occasionally leave only to return a few months later, but even when their numbers are small it’s a fun sight to see, especially knowing they are being seen in a natural setting and not captive in a zoo.

We also browsed through some of the tourist shops at Pier 39, but determined they were no different than the ones in Wisconsin Dells that trap people into spending money.

Jenny spent the next day preparing her presentation, so I hopped on a double-decker bus to see some of the city’s many other sights, including the spectacular-looking City Hall building, Alamo Park where many people gathered in 1906 to watch the city burn to the ground following the Great San Francisco Earthquake and the Haight-Ashbury district where hippies and others congregated in 1967 during the “Summer of Love.” Although I’ve read numerous books on the 1960s and am fascinated by the history, I had no desire to get off the bus to explore the area more, as the bars over every business’ windows and doors told me all I needed to know about the safety of the neighborhood.

I did get off the bus at the Golden Gate Bridge, though. The weather was sunny and near 70 degrees, and the wind wasn’t blowing too hard, so the view was spectacular. Armed with a camera, I set out to get the perfect photo to hopefully enlarge and frame for our house. This meant going under the bridge and walking the bluffs of a coastal trail to Baker Beach more than one mile away. I only passed a few people along the gorgeous walk, thinking to myself everybody in this city must be working to not be on this trail.

At Baker Beach, which is clothing optional (fortunately the few people there opted for clothing), I got some great photos, and I touched the ocean for the first time. Although I’ve been on the East Coast before and traveled by boat on the ocean, I’ve never actually set my foot or put my hand in the water. It was nice, but I was not about to spend much time close to it because of the huge waves crashing down just feet away.

Although my legs were already tired from the coastal trail walk, I made it a priority to walk across the bridge when I got back. As did plenty of others who also walked the bridge that day. I was constantly either passing people or getting passed, and all of us had to watch out for the dozens of bicyclists going past us also. While some people might not like the idea of walking on such a massive bridge, I discovered it seemed like walking on any normal road, since that was the size of the sidewalk. Plus, the bridge did not sway as many might fear it would, and the view was so breathtaking it’s easy to forget about how high up you are.

It took me about an hour to walk across it and back, so I was ready to get on the bus once I returned. From there, the bus traveled to Fisherman’s Wharf, and then back to the downtown area where I returned to the hotel.

At the hotel, I returned a phone call from my best friend in middle school, Byron, a Neshkoro native now living in nearby San Jose. He knew I was in San Francisco and made it a priority to contact me. An hour after returning his call, he met me at the hotel where he took me on a walking tour of the city’s Financial District.

Employed in the city’s digital industry, Byron told me stories about many of the business dealings in some of the skyscrapers.

We also stopped at several taverns which served some of the finest drinks I’ve ever had, before Jenny met us at the House of Nanking, an Asian fusion restaurant. The House of Nanking has an excellent reputation in San Francisco amongst the locals, and after Byron told our waitress we had never been there before, she took our menus away and asked us how hungry we were. Both of us were really hungry, which was great because she brought numerous plates of food containing the best Asian food I’ve ever eaten.

After the meal and returning to the hotel, we said our goodbyes to Byron, who needed to return home to his pregnant wife, who was due at any time.

I’ll cover our final days in San Francisco next week, including our experience with a homeless man who has made a living out of scaring people.