Ok, it seems weird to still be talking about the San Francisco trip over a week later, but I told myself I'd give a day by day account of the trip, and by golly, I intend to do it. (This'll really be a memory exercise)

Day two, I awoke! I awoke well rested, in comparison to almost every other experience I've had sleeping in a strange place or with another body in my bed. I think I recall that there was a bit of a struggle in the night to become comfortable with less than the average amount of bedding over my body, and between my feet, knees, and arms. I remember waking in the night and listening to Fern's breathing and thinking "yay, she's sleeping!" It's always a cause to celebrate when she gets a good night sleep.

So, I think we purchased our morning mochas at the world's busiest Starbucks on Friday morning. We took our nubile selfs south of Market Street and into Yerba Buena Park with all its fun curvy elevated walk ways, neat architecture, gardens, and kooky soft-bottomed playgrounds. There are several photos depicting this part of the trip. We stopped in the kooky soft-bottomed playground, took pictures, and watched funny kids galavanting in the absolutely gorgeous sunshine.

Its doesn't seem right, but I'm pretty sure that this was the same day Fern and I strolled down to Southpark-an old neighborhood around an oval park n' playground. Of course we had to swing on the swings and visit the coffee shop that was sooo Italianesque that Vespas were parked out front and the windows were open, thus creating a pleasant open air environment in which to drink espresso beverages. The Southpark experience was our first excursion into a part of the city that was decidedly a neighborhood which existed seemingly far far away from the tourists and shopping. Several people walked dogs and read books in the park. It was nice.

Next, the real walking began and our surroundings became much less "nice". We walked from Southpark through SoMa towards The Mission. Our destination was a place called "Blowfish", which was, according to the Sanfrancisco weekly paper, voted best of all sushi establishments. Before arriving at Blowfish, we had to walk 15 city blocks of warehouses, clubs, and various trashy establishments. When we finally arrived at a park near Blowfish, it was infested with homeless people. This was about the time I really came to appreciate the comfort and quality of Starbucks coffee shops. We came across one of the nicest Starbucks I've ever been to, which offered us a place to pee and coushy couches to rest our weary feet. This particular Starbucks was very spacious and adorned with intriguing oil paintings of real blue collar workers of the city.

We decided to step into Blowfish a little before our reservation time, which was fine with the hostess. We dined on some amazing sushi. It was so amazing that I made the spontaneous decision to order more of the best we had, along with a couple Saporos..? I think we spent $60 for that dinner, but we totally deserved it.

We decided to walk back to town despite our aching feet. On the way, we passed by City Hall, the Veteran's Center?., and the Asian Art Museum, which were all majestic buildings of granite, columns and domes. It was in this area that Fern witnessed a street person crouching with his pants down as though he were going to take a dump in the middle of the sidewalk. I'm sure she would rather had forgotten this, but, sorry.... Also while in this area, the absense of places to urinate was acutely felt. Nearing "home", we walked through an area of the city that the tourist guides recommended staying out of. I read about the area the day after we walked through it.

For the rest of the evening, I rested and read. Fern caught up with her friend Amy over some beers.

Clearly, I'm running out of motivation for this writing/memory exercise. I'll finish up next time. Goodnight.