Wednesday was Day 1 of the Dry Lent, and (supposedly) my last day in town. My friend had to work and go to a few classes, so I was left to wander. We made plans to do dinner in San Francisco, so I decided to head out there early and wander around a bit.
Prior to my excursion to San Francisco, I managed to achieve one of the few goals I had for vacation: run in California. The upside to Berkeley is that there are sidewalks everywhere, and it’s 50 degrees out in the mornings, but the bad news is that there are a bunch of hills. I wound up doing a pretty short run, only about a mile and a half around the block, but it left me as worn out as a run twice that long. I’ll admit to having walked some of that. Still, it was good to put on a Runfos shirt and wear the running shoes that had eaten up half my suitcase.
Since I had lunch to myself, and it was Ash Wednesday and I was going to try and not eat meat, and my friend also happens to be allergic to shellfish, I decided today would be a good day to try some place with fresh seafood. I settled on a place in the financial district of downtown San Francisco called Sam’s Grill, which was both a spectacular and terrible choice.
Sam’s Grill is an old restaurant that was, at one point, one of the first oyster houses in the bay area back in the mid 1800s. I picked it largely because the menu didn’t look outrageous and included clam chowder, and I figured that it’d be a crime to be that close to the ocean and not have some clam chowder (I’ve had it in Boston before on a 90-degree summer day. It’s fantastic when it’s that fresh).
The good news: the chowder was amazing. It wasn’t as creamy and potato-heavy as the New England/Boston variety, and there were a few unexpected additions, like tomatoes and celery, but it was very, very good.
The bad news: I was completely, totally under dressed to be in a restaurant like that. You’d think something that includes the word “Grill” in the name would be a somewhat casual thing, but no. I felt kinda like Cameron must have in the scene in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off when the three of them are sitting in Chez Quis. All around me were businessmen in suits. The service was brisk, short, and unusually well-dressed. The booth I was in was a tiny little thing, and they had booths along one wall with curtains for people who wanted to conduct lunch meetings. It was a cool building, and I don’t regret picking it for lunch, but it is one of the few times I have felt completely and totally out of my depth in a restaurant.
Oh, and this little guy was $3.
Never have I been more careful to savor a Diet Coke than I was during that meal.
After lunch, I started wandering again. I hopped on a streetcar and rode down past the touristy part of the bay and wandered in the general vicinity of Ghirardehlli Square, and then decided to wander in the general direction of the Golden Gate Bridge. Unfortunately, there’s really no direct route to get to the bridge; you figure you’re heading in the right direction, but even after 40 minutes of walking along the Embarcadero I was still probably another 40 minutes’ walk from the bottom of the bridge.
The wandering did an effective job of killing the rest of the afternoon, and after meeting up with my friend we took a bus up to the top of Nob Hill and got dinner at a little cafe that had some killer tortellini.
After dinner, we stopped in at the Intercontinental Hotel and headed for Top of the Mark, which is a rather swanky lounge at the top of the hotel. Looking out, I was pretty much at eye level with the top of the Trans-America Building. It was a good, clear night, and we had an excellent view of the sunset. A fantastic finish to a vacation.
The trip had come to an end, and while I had a fun time out there, I was ready to head back.
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