I’m in San Francisco again for work. The office is right next to one of the hills with a great view of the city. I suppose I can’t complain about being in SF, but I was working all week and didn’t didn’t get out sightseeing until the weekend.
In fact, I didn’t really go sightseeing, just walking around local neighborhoods, sometimes with a desination in mind, sometimes not, but never in a direct path. I like to discover the many little interesting nooks and crannies of the city.
First of all, I’ve noticed a proliferation of public gardens in the city. These are usually vacant lots that get transformed with plantings, either edible or ornamental, but usually both. There is often a bench and some garden decorations as well.
I did get to walk past the ever-impressive City Hall on my morning walk from my hotel to the bus and back in the evening. I would even take different routes to see it from different angles, and take lots of photographs. I can safely say this is the most impressive angle. The neighboring buildings, small formal plaza, and wrought iron gate make it chateauesque:
You’ll notice those impressive ornamental lights in the previous picture, and I continue to be fascinated by these. San Francisco holds its own:
 On what I think is the Opera building across from city hall. |
 On a courthourse on Mission Street. |
Not far from my hotel in Hayes Valley, the oddly revitalized Octavia Boulevard has a nice park with a great playground (not pictured) and a cool art structure. I’m not sure if it was lit in green as part of the vegetation theme or as a decoration for the imminent St. Patrick’s day:
I say oddly revitalized, because while the central freeway was torn down, the vacant lots remain and are sparsely filled with unusual venues. Here an authentic-looking Biergarten, very popular on a Friday night, there a stack of shipping containers disfunctionally converted into a what is probably a design studio:
You might be tempted to guess that the large mural lettering in the photo above says HIPSTER, but it actually says BRIGHTER FASTER. Right around the corner are some old-school graffiti murals:
The destination was the Embarcadero, the conveyance was one of the old cable cars on Market Street, the wait was cold and windy (and the prose inspired by David Foster Wallace and 2 free Mai-tais at 10am local time on the Alaska flight home):
It says it was originally in service in Cincinnati. My father, Jim, grew up there and maybe rode this very same car before:
The goal was to see the new lights installed on the Bay Bridge and find the best place to view/photograph them. The answer is anywhere between Cupid’s Span and the back of the ferry building, with a secret spot on a staircase next to Sinbad’s. Though if you want a view of the ferry building itself, the next pier to the north, Pier 1, is best:
The lights on the bridge create abstract shapes and lines that move and pulse across the 4 towers of the bridge. Some look like shooting stars, others like fish swimming around, and often it looks like clouds or fog blowing by. It’s hard to see the effect with my little camera’s long exposure, but some of my pictures turned out nice:
For more picutes, do a Google image search.
On Saturday, the day before St. Patrick’s day, I headed downtown to watch the St. Patrick’s day parade and scope out some camera stores. On the way there, I found yet another garden, within spitting distance of the big dome:
The art was, obligingly, recycled and whimsical:
Just like the children’s mosaics in the Powell Street BART station (I am assuming this is children’s art):
On my way to the parade, I detoured along some back alleys, not a half-block from San Francisco’s Champs-Elyséeian Market Street.
At one intersction, I happened to look up and see daylight all the way through the Grant tunnel. You can see the bus coming about 10 blocks away, right through the hill.
Off of 2nd Street, I peered into the huge construction site for the future Transbay Transit Center. Someday, hopefully, high speed trains will traverse this underground space.
Then I found myself a spot on Market Street to watch the Irish-American St. Patrick’s Day Parade. It wasn’t a big showy parade with real floats or even much music. I suppose a lot of Irish immigrants ended up as laborers and tradesmen in San Francisco, so the local unions were well represented, especially the firemen. So it was a parade for and by people mostly, with lots of good cheer from marchers and spectators. There were a few decorated trucks, mostly those ubiquitous motorized-cable-cars, and one U2 tribute band. And what parade would be complete without flags, lots of flags:
There are clearly lots of Irish-Americans in San Francisco, and even more Irish-revellers-for-a-day, but a distinct lack of genuine Irish imagery. In addition to all the plastic green decorations, there were only 2 costumed St Patricks, and a fife and drum corps. I could be wrong about it, but bag pipes and kilts like these are Scottish. I do think the name of the shop behind, Piper’s Jewelery, is quite apropos:
There were a few Irish dance ensembles, but I only saw one of them performing Irish dances. But these kids were having a lot of fun doing a gym-like performance:
The Sinn Féin marchers were the only overtly political part of the parade. It reminds me of the Taiwanese and Mainland Chinese factions at the Chinese New Year’s parades. Though I doubt any Northern Irish groups were invited or allowed in this one:
A few other acts deserve an honorable mention:
 The big truck with green decorations that reminded me of a Hawaiian truck in a grass skirt. |
 The Thomas-like version of the BART train. I didn’t recogize the Thomas-like face at first because it’s been so long since Leilani has been interested in those books. |
The Irish wolfhounds were a big hit with the crowd.
This was a spectator, but he could’ve marched in the parade if he wanted to, he would’ve fit right in.
And finally, way at the end of the parade, 2 horse ensembles. The only thing Irish about them were the green decorations, but everybody loves horses:
After the parade, the street cleaning crews went to work, but the roads remained closed even after that. So I walked up the center strip of a mostly deserted Market Street. Here’s looking back at the Ferry Building:
The party contined at the Civic Center plaza, with musical acts, Gaelic activities, and Irish ales, I imagine. I went to the public library nearby and got a good view of the festivities–and the ubiquitous dome.
On Sunday afternoon, I climbed the hill to St Mary’s Cathedral for their weekly organ concert. Sitting at the peak of “Cathedral Hill,” this landmark is visible from many areas of the city. I still think it the architect botched it. The outside is nice enough, though not particularly pretty:
But the inside is oppressive. It has some nice religious art, but the huge cement beams holding up the roof are angular, exposed, and resting on relatively tiny pedestals (one of which is cracked). Must lead people to pray there is no earthquake during mass. It’s like everybody has given up trying to build a prettier church than the Ste. Chapelle in Paris.
Fortunately, I’m just there for the music, and the organ is the best part of the church. It looks neat and sounds even better:
Near the church, an elementary school was getting into gardening, they even had a chicken coop:
And finally, some fancy, elegant, and simple Victorian homes in the Hayes Valley neighborhood.
I really liked this row of houses:
