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Posts Tagged ‘Marin County’


Though many people – including my wife – prefer the Oakland Bay Bridge, this remains the most iconic image of San Francisco. And that is reflected in the number of photos I have taken of it from various angles over the years.

Here is a selection of those I am most fond of. Some are familiar images, others perhaps less so.

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From the Marin Headlands with Sutro Tower

in the distance and the City to the left

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I was walking, not driving, when I took this!

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From Land’s End after a hearty brunch at the Cliff House!

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“The Warming Hut” – does what it says on the tin

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Peeking from behind the “Warming Hut” 

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Where the tourists get taken

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Nearly there! From Crissy Field Beach

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Towards Fort Point

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Going under

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Looks pretty sturdy to me

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But it’s still the No. 1 “suicide bridge” in the world

 

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Three and a half days to go – time to settle back into The City.  One thing we had promised ourselves on this trip was to walk across the Golden Gate Bridge and back.  We had driven it many times but still had not experienced the thrill of stamding on it midway across the bay.

Abandoning – not for the first time – the late running MUNI buses in our neighbourhood, we walked to Van Ness on another warm, clear morning where we picked up a no.47 to North Point.  From here  we cut through Aquatic Park to Fort Mason where, conscious of eating early this evening, we felt it was time to have a light lunch.  We discovered the Readers’ Cafe in Building B which not only served fine food and the strongest, handcrafted coffee imaginable, but contained a large second hand bookstore. 

As we ate our tofu and avocado sandwich (me) and flapjack (Janet) it was also nice to know that we were contributing towards the San Francisco Public Library.  I took the opportunity here to engage a local woman in conversation about how lucky she was to live here permanently.  Whilst acknowledging her good fortune she said she really loved London!

We have enjoyed our two stops at Fort Mason, barely half a mile from Fisherman’s Wharf yet I wonder how many tourists ever get to visit it or are even aware of it.  And do San Francisco residents make as much use of the facility as they might?

The walk through the Marina and Crissy Field was challenging as we had both the brisk coastal wind and strong sun in our faces.  The Warming Hut, therefore, proved a very welcome refuge.  Aside from the food and drink available it has a very interesting gift shop with a number of San Francisco related books that I had not seen anywhere else. After a short break we walked up the hill to the entrance to the bridge, stopping constantly to take photographs of the killer views.

The camera was called into action many times again as we made the trip over into Marin County.  We quickly became immune to the noise and rush of the traffic, although we had to be on our toes to avoid many of the (local) cyclists who seemed to think they were riding flat out in a velodrome rather than on a pedestrian filled six foot wide pavement.  With the constant photo stops and observation of a sea lion diving for fish, it took us around three quarters of an hour to get to Vista Point on the other side of the bridge. 

After a comfort break and more photographs, we set back across the bridge to make the return journey which took just half an hour.  Coffee and chips were our reward before we caught a no. 28 bus back to Fort Mason

We spent the next hour and a half exploring Ghirardelli Square and Fisherman’s Wharf before retiring to The Franciscan for dinner.  Excellent food, attentive service and sunset over Alcatraz made this one of our better evening meal experiences on the vacation.  I had crab enchiladas and Yukon mashed potatoes with zucchini whilst Janet had Crab and Shrimp Louie with fries.

We took the F Streetcar to Market before picking up the no.5 MUNI bus to take us back to the apartment.

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Having spent the previous day drivin’ south on Highway 1 to Santa Cruz, we decided to take advantage of the remaining time with the hire car to  head in the opposite direction to visit some of the towns in Marin County.  Initially, we had intended to travel as far as Bodega Bay, the location used for one of Alfred Hitchcock‘s most chilling films, The Birds, but another late start (we are on vacation after all) caused us to modify our plans by mid afternoon. 

It wasn’t helped by the fact that my sore throat and cough had developed into a full blown cold, occasioning a consultation with the pharmacist at the nearby Lucky supermarket before we left.  So, having handed over half of our remaining spending money for the pills and syrup, we set off over the Golden Gate Bridge on a clear, sunny morning that was to produce record temperature by mid afternoon.

Our first stop was in Mill Valley for coffee.  As I was feeding the parkaing meter I was asked by a young mother if I knew where The Depot was.  I explained that I was a new kid in the block too, thinking that this delightful, woodland scene could hardly be the locatoin for a branch of The Home Depot.  Five minutes later Janet and I were sitting outside the Depot Cafe, sipping coffees and scrutinising the Marin County map I had just bought in the bookstore linked to the cafe.  The sight of the menu, and the presentation of the food being delivered to other customers, made me regret having had such a heavy breakfast.    

Mill Valley, one of the wealthiest communities in the United States in a lovely, wooded setting, struck us as affluent and civilised.  Moreover, the people were very friendly, notably the proprietor of the  jewelry store who individually gift wrapped the watch, earrings and bracelets I had bought Janet for her birthday tomorrow.

As we drove around Marin County the artists’ and spiritualist colonies for which it was renowned were evident respectively in galleries and establishments like the Vedanta Center and the Spirit Rock Meditation Center.

We had decided to take another drive today not least because we wanted to ensure that we ran the gas down before returning it to Avis.  However, as we drove towards Stinson Beach we realised that if we went much further today we would need to buy more gas.  We did not want to run out on an isolated part of the road.  Fortunately, we found a gas station at Point Reyes Station, a raggedy western style town, where we also had a picnic lunch.  With Bodega Bay still the best part of an hour away we decided to head for Sausalito via Fairfax and San Rafael.

As it transpired, we drove through Fairfax, an attractive town, and its neighbour, San Anselmo, in preference for spending the remaining hour of the shops opening in San Rafael.  However, no sooner had we entered the town then we had passed through it!  Perhaps the downtown area was off the main road.  We considered returning to Fairfax but decided to push on to Sausalito.

We had coffee in the Bridgeway Cafe in Sausalito and sat “on the dock of the bay” marvelling at the crystal clear and deceptively close view of The City across the bay. 

Now, you are never far from an ageing hippie in the Bay Area, and this was no exception as we were entertained by a character who did not look dissimilar from David Crosby (long golden hair, receding hairline, bushy moustache, tassled brown suede jacket) whom we had only seen a couple of nights before.  But that is where the similarity ended.  Whilst he had a guitar strapped across his chest, he only used it a mute prop to his rendition of “standing on the corner watching all the girls go by” (only readers of a certain age will remember this – hardly a west coast hippie anthem).  When he wasn’t “singing” he was engaged in loud and harmless conversation with whomsoever would accidentally catch his eye.  Amongst his rapid fire tips on surviving in today’s world was “if you sit somewhere long enough someone will bring you food”.  Well, it worked for him as a middle aged woman delivered shepherd’s pie to him and his dog (there’s always a dog).

We could have avoided him on the return to our car but that would have required an unnecessary  minor detour.  Inevitably, as we passed by he said “where you guys from, it can’t be San Francisco with a t-shirt like that”, and as if to answer his own question he ventured “Australian” of course.  He then offered his services as a tour guide if we wanted someone to show us around.  He didn’t want paying – all we would need to do was supply a car and buy him dinner.  He would even take a “day off “(from sitting on a bench rapping to every passer by) to help us out.      

After crossing over the Golden Gate Bridge (at a toll charge of $6) we stopped by the Exploratorium and the majestic Palace of Fine Arts, where we spent a relaxing twilight hour watching the world winding down, including joggers, many with dogs trotting alongside them, children in their toy cars and swans elegantly gliding around the lagoon.   We then retired to the apartment for dinner (seafood lasagne).

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