The clang of the street cars, the rolling wonders of the hill streets, and the far off sounds of street jazz: I definitely would leave my heart in San Francisco. We stayed at a small boutique hotel right in the heart of downtown; Hotel Union Square on Powell. It was very small, but so cozy I felt as if I were in my own bedroom. We had drinks and a snack at the Irish Bank, a traditional pub and restaurant located at the end of an alley near union square. It was a fantastic sight of tables bustling full of lively patrons completely filling the alleyway, and I found myself in high spirits at the feeling of how San Franciscans carry on their day of fun and laughter in an seemingly eventless alley. The night continued with reggae in the Haight/Ashberry district at Milk nightclub. Just relaxing with a cocktail and friends.
The next day began with a walk through the city, alive with its many characters. A dinner at small jazz club close to the hotel: Les Joulins, small, dim, and and romantic. Then, what trip to the bay could ever happen without a day in Berkeley, my love's alma mater. I could see how truly uplifting the university could be with its high trees and babbling brooks running through the campus itself. what a feast of nature! It was there, while shopping through endless street merchants and small boutiques, we had heard the news; the death of a legend, Michael Jackson.
For a special birthday, I treated my beau to a fine meal at Masa's in Nob Hill, a five-course gourmet cuisine that set me back quite a few nights of bartending tips. But well worth it! They treat you like royalty and the meal was exquisit from beginning to end. Had I the funds, I would have relived the experience every night.
We ended our trip with a trolley ride to Ghirardelli Square. An irish coffee at Buena Vista Cafe, a mouth full of street crab, and the sweet aroma of sourdough bread baking in the sea air. I was in heaven and reluctant to make the journey back home.
