A new day dawned and thus began the longest and most exhausting day of our vacation.
Can you guess where we went?
There's this great overlook as you're approaching San Francisco from the north (take exit 442 off the 101). You park your car and hike up a little hillside and voila! There's the most famous (arguably so) bridge in the world. Several people were there, enjoying the view and taking pictures.
My family was laughing at me because I kept offering to take people's pictures (with
their cameras, of course). Hey, I appreciate it when people take a pic of
our family with
our camera so we can all be together in the shot, so why not offer that to others? Besides, most of the people I did it for were from foreign lands, so I was actually promoting
global harmony. International war
may have been averted.
Those silhouettes really
are us:
(I'm the short one.)
Here we are, crossing the Golden Gate Bridge. Don't the kids look excited?
Soon we arrived at a beautiful coastal park called Land's End in San Fran's north-western quarter. It's got gorgeous views, cool trees and nice paths for jogging (if you can stomach that sort of thing).
See the Golden Gate in the distance?
Don't miss the slightly creepy cave near the Land's End parking lot. Step inside to hear the booming of the surf hitting the cliffs. It sounds like a bomb going off, but in a good way.
Our stomachs started rumbling so we headed into the city itself.
No, we did not ride a trolley, but I did take this ubiquitous picture of one:
We had lunch at Pier 39, a tourist trap if ever there was one, but hey! We
were tourists.
We ate sourdough, clam chowder and an
awesome salad at a place called "Boudin's". I know sourdough bread was invented in or around San Fran, but I was a bit disappointed. I love the stuff, but apparently only when it's
warm and
very well buttered. Otherwise it's just sort of cold, dry and, well...
sour.
One of the things Pier 39 is famous for is its sea lion population. There are bleachers set up on the dock so people can sit and watch the fat, dripping, boisterous fellows sunning themselves and/or dueling for dominance.
It's pretty sad that there needs to be a sign telling people not to
throw things at the wildlife. Geez...
After
barely restraining ourselves from pelting the sea lions with bottles, shoes and other handy projectiles, we hopped on a boat...
...and ventured past that same bridge to...
... our country's
weirdest national "park"...
...Alcatraz.
Seeing the national park emblem under the penitentiary sign made me laugh out loud.
Once we landed on the island, we proceeded to the "movie theater" where we watched a short documentary on the history of Alcatraz. (It was this bit of media that helped me understand why someone had spray-painted "Indians welcome" in the above picture.)
While waiting for the next showing to begin, we moseyed through the wisely-placed gift shop. Jeff had been looking for a particular item and just happened to see a perfect one in this very place.
Behold, Jeff's new...
...jacket.
Complete with authentic identification tag:
After completing our most bizarre purchase at a gift shop ever, we continued on to the "big house" for the audio tour.
I have to tell you, that I didn't initially want to do the walkman directed audio tour (you know, where you put on the headphones and walk where the voice tells you) but I'm so glad I did. It didn't cost anything extra and we learned
so much. It was easy to stay on track and the tour was incredibly informative. There were clips of interviews with actual former inmates and guards. I wouldn't have enjoyed our trip to "the Rock" nearly as much if I hadn't been willing to plant those flimsy headphones on my head.
Cell, sweet cell.
Twinsies:
Three levels of comfortable accommodations:
Fancy a shower?
If you really stand out as an
exemplary individual, you earn yourself an exclusive stay in "the Hole".
A former inmate featured in the audio tour said he used to drop a button
on the floor while in solitary confinement so he could find it in
the dark. Once he found it, he'd drop it again and again just to give
himself something to do.
Newly satisfied with our own lives "on the outs", we left the prison island behind and headed back to the city. Apparently, the night tour is even better, but they didn't offer it the day we were there.
Our trip to Alcatraz was Jeff's favorite part of our entire trip. Back at Pier 39, the kids' favorite part was just about to be experienced...
Magowan's Infinite Mirror Maze is hardly noticeable from the outside. It's housed in an unassuming building on the second story of the Pier next to one of many gift shops. You could easily walk past it, but don't!
Initially, I stayed outside, content to play the part of the "boring mom" 'cause I do it so well. (When you got it, you got it.) However, just a few minutes later, Jeff emerged with a look of child-like wonder on his 40 year old face, informing me that
I was going in.
We paid the guy behind the counter another $5 and he handed me some gloves--the super-cheapo-plastic-baggie-type--which we were all required to wear. (That's how they keep the mirrors from getting smudged which would ruin the whole illusory affect.)
"Go find the kids," Jeff told me.
A challenge, huh?
I stepped into the maze...
Words can't describe what a weird feeling it was to be walking around in there, seeing myself everywhere, seeing my kids, but wait! That's not really them. It's only their reflection. And so is
that! There was a sense of accomplishment when you reached out your hand to what you thought was your loved one and they reached back to grab you. Delaney said she appreciated her family more afterwards. :)
Of course they had music pumping and flashing colored lights throughout our journey.
I took a lot of pictures, but sadly these are the best:
There was no time limit and we could have played a bit longer, but we had dinner to eat, so we hoofed it over to...
(Thanks to Matt and Erin, some strangers out there in cyberspace, from whom I borrowed the above photo.)
Now, normally I'm a stickler about eating square meals. Nutrition is very important to me. However, there are rare occasions when I suggest we eat things of
this nature for our evening repast:
Surprisingly, no one balked at my idea. ;)
Delaney's had not yet arrived:
This sundae glass needed a moat:
And a few frenzied moments later, Jeff needed a pillow:
After gorging ourselves on the most decadent of dinners, we were ready for the final excursion of this very full day. Neither Jeff nor the kids had any idea what we were going to be doing, so I dropped some hints which I hoped would be tantalizing.
"You might find yourself the object of ridicule," I warned them.
"A soup kitchen?" Tobias queried.
Nope.
"Experiences like this sometimes have a tendency to be cheesy or sleazey, but I feel confident that that won't be the case tonight."
"A gay bar?" Jeff joked.
Uhhh...yeah, honey. When in Rome...
Moments later, we were pulling up to a parking lot in the Tenderloin district. Unfortunately, the lot I'd found online ahead of time was full. The attendant pointed down an alley to a little garage door in a building, saying, "They can park your car for you."
Gingerly, we drove down there and asked if they had room. As this attendant was affirming that, I noticed that it was a
valet parking situation. In other words, we were expected to leave our keys to our car (which was full of all our luggage, including a stash of cash) with some stranger, pay him for his services and hope to find our way back to the alley in a few hours.
What kind of idiots are
that trusting?
Apparently,
we are. (I noticed later, when we returned and found our car unpilfered, that our claim ticket informed us that the lot owners were
not responsible for loss or damage of property. Ha ha ha!)
Off we walked to this place:
As soon as Jeff saw it, he asked, very worriedly, "You aren't taking us somewhere to watch
belly dancers, are you?"
Let's see...am I likely to take my husband and son where they will be surrounded by the toned and mysteriously gyrating abdomens of probably buxom and deeply cleavaged exotic women?
NO!
Through the doors of the Marrakech restaurant we walked and I informed the host that we were there for the show.
"Ah, the magic show? Right this way."
With the proverbial cat now out of the bag, we followed him down a set of stairs to this unusual room...
...where we were seated and offered a menu.
With our stomachs still overflowing burpaciously with hot fudge sauce and whipped cream, we weren't hungry in the least, but I got such good tickets for the show itself that I felt compelled to fuel the place's economy in spite of the sloshiness of my gut and the tightness of my wallet. (I didn't confer with the bulginess of my buttocks.)
It was a Moroccan joint, so we ordered an authentic dish called a 'bastilla'. Glancing at the description, I saw that it was made of chicken and some veggies all wrapped in some filo dough. Sounded good enough.
Well, when it arrived, I noticed it had fine white powder generously sprinkled over the top. See?
Ummm...
powdered sugar with my chicken and vegetables? Okay...
It wasn't
bad, but it
was awfully weird.
I felt like a bit of a fraud when the waitress asked me, "How do you like it? It's delicious, yeah?"
"Mmm hmmm," I said, reluctantly plunging my fork in for yet another bizarre bite.
(I have this issue with not wanting to offend nice, well-meaning people who present me with food. I did draw the line once, though, when we were at a Thai restaurant and they provided us with a free 'dessert'. I spooned into the rice-pudding-like mixture and came up with some peas and corn. No, thanks!)
The magician, for whose show we were waiting, a Peter Morrison by name, strolled around the 'kasbah lounge' introducing himself to each and every patron, doing several teaser tricks to whet our appetites.
He was amazing! Behold the look on Tobias' face:
(It's no small feat to impress that boy.)
At one point, Peter asked Delaney to announce which card she had picked seconds earlier.
"It was a two of clover-thingy," she responded.
Peter just rolled with it.
(A few tables over, I heard a young boy describe his card as a nine of black shovel-thing, so apparently Delaney was in good company.)
Eventually, we were seated in the small theater where the official magic happens. It only seated about 25 people so it was intimate enough to feel special but without feeling creepy. What followed was about an hour and a half's worth of remarkable tricks and illusions.
Peter called at least seven people up on to the stage to 'help' him with different parts of his act which is lots of fun for groundlings like us. Here, Delaney had to pick a number and place a large die into a lidded box with her number face-up and Peter would guess which number was hers.
Here he is, staring deeply into Tobias' eyes (to prove he wasn't peeking) while Delaney situated the die.
He got her number every time!
Anyway, this magician was very talented but also completely down to earth and not full of himself. He made all of us feel welcome and appreciated AND he put on a great show to boot. I would highly recommend going to see him if you find yourself in San Fran. I don't know if they're always available or not, but I got seriously discounted tickets through goldstar.com.
We left the theater around 10:30 and were delighted to find our car and its keys waiting for us.
Unwilling to pay $200+ for one night's sleep in the city (
plus another $40 to park our car in the hotel's parking lot!), we drove twenty minutes south to a more properly priced motel where we promptly fell into bed after a
very long day.
Whew! This may very well be the longest blog post I've ever written.
