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Stories from San Francisco

Fiance and I were very lucky to have the same spring break this year, and somehow I managed to talk him into getting on a plane with me and going to visit ones of his bestis in San Francisco.

There’s really no need to bore you with all the details of our trip, we did what people typically do when they visit San Francisco.  We visited the pier and ate sour dough and visited Haight – Ashbury and climbed the hills and drove along the coast and went hiking.  But we do have a couple good stories from our trip to share.

We wanted to spend a couple days in the city and a day or two hiking, so upon a recommendation from another friend, we set our sites on Big Sur.  Our lovely hostess, K, did some asking around and found out about a not-to-be-missed opportunity down near Big Sur, which involved driving there in the middle of the night (OK, we could have left earlier in the day, but we had an Oscars party to go to that evening).

There was an exclusive spa along the coast that, on the weekends between 1 am and 3 am allowed non-guests to make reservations for their hot springs.  So we found ourselves driving down the 1 in the dark to find a little inn in Carmel by the Sea, grab the keys that had been taped to the office door for us (because it was already mid-night when we arrived, and this was a little inn that didn’t have someone sitting at a desk all night), toss our stuff in our room, and drive another hour along that windy coast road in the pitch dark.  When we made our reservations the day before, the attendant told us the nearest land mark was the stop light in Carmel, and hour north of the spa.  An hour down the road we found the sign, pulled off onto the side of the freeway, and walked down a steep hill to a booth.  The man in the booth had us sign in and gave us directions to walk down more steep and dark hills to the hot springs.

Sitting in a hot spring tub in the middle of the night on a cliff overlooking the pacific – there are no words.

An hour and a half later, muscles much softer than when we had arrived, we trekked back to the car and made the hour drive back up the coast to Carmel.  We got far too little sleep, enjoyed a great complimentary breakfast at the inn, and spent the day stopping at state parks along the coast and doing short-ish hikes, which included waterfalls, banana slugs, red woods, identifying native plants with the field guide fiance brought for K, sea otter, whale spout and sea lion sightings, and a stop at in and out burger on our way back to San Fran.

On Wednesday, when our trip was coming to a close, I demanded that we make a trip back to the pier for more sour dough from Boudin.  The trip should have been no problem, but our desire to leave K with clean sheets and a clean comforter got us out the door about ten minutes later than we should have.  As it has a tendency to do, public transportation schedules conspired against us, and ten minutes at the beginning of the day translated into 30 minutes late in the middle of the day, and then into arriving at the airport as our plane was leaving.  Without us on it.  At one stop in the journey to the San Jose airport we contemplated just hoping in a cab to make it in time, but when the cabbie told us it would be 80 bucks (Off the meter, he was going to give us a $40 discount)  we thanked him for his generosity, and took our chances on the $13 train tickets.

Luckily, we weren’t in a hurry to get back to Michigan, we both still had 4 days of spring break left, and no work that was absolutely pressing to return to.  Doubly lucky, we have some wonderful Peace Corps friends living just a couple miles from the airport in San Jose.  So when we finally walked into the airport as our flight was leaving, and the lady at the counter re-booked us for the next morning, we made a phone call.  And enjoyed some sour dough.

We took our PCTZ friends out to dinner in exchange for some great conversation and a air mattress on their floor.  Really, it couldn’t have worked out better if we had planned it.

And that bread was so worth it.

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One Comment on “Stories from San Francisco”

  1. Kit Mitchell Says:

    I, for one, am grateful to the gods of public transport, who conspired against you, and let us hang out with you!!!!!

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