San Francisco, Day 1—Saturday arrival and family dinner
Wed, Apr. 27th, 2016 08:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scarlettinaArrived in San Francisco on Saturday around lunchtime. The plan was for me to meet my brother Steve and his family at the airport, so I got in about an hour after they did. We all tromped to the rental car that Steve insisted on getting, and then drove into town to the apartment we rented for the week. I had argued against his getting a car—we’ll be in an urban area, my argument went, there’s plenty of mass transit, and parking will be a pain in the butt. But Steve was adamant. As things have turned out, getting the car was the right thing to do, which will become obvious as my chronicle progresses (though it is the pain in the butt I predicted it would be).
Our apartment and neighborhood
The apartment we’re renting (found via VRBO) is in Noe Valley, just a few blocks from the Mission District. It’s a two-bedroom place, obviously pre-war (but not obviously Victorian) that’s been remodeled inside to maintain the best of its pre-war features while updating things like the bathroom and the kitchen. So the kitchen has a wonderful gas stove, stone counters and a deep, undermounted sink, all the lighting fixtures in the ceiling are accented with medallions, the wainscoting is beautiful white bead board, and the ceilings are coved. The kitchen has this awesome framed poster: a photograph of a boy reading to a kneeling elephant. The title on it says “Ashes and Snow”. The photographer is Gregory Colbert from an exhibit at the Nomadic Museum at Santa Monica in 2006. I want to see if I can find the poster for myself.
Steve and his wife Michele are using the master bedroom; I’m in what is obviously meant to be the kids’ room—two single beds and two lava lamps, of all things--and my niece Valerie is sleeping on the fold-out couch in the living room. The kitchen is spacious. At the back of the kitchen is a door out onto a small wood deck with stairs that go up to the unit above ours, and down into a tightly packed and verdant garden with a wonderful water feature full of koi.
Our first order of business was getting settled and doing some grocery shopping. We found a Safeway and a Walgreens within two or three blocks of where we’re staying, and stocked up. As it turned out, in an effort to pack economically, I forgot to pack socks! I also, as it turns out, did not really choose my clothes well and I feel like I don’t really have what I want to have in terms of variety and practicality. I don’t know why I packed like I did, honestly. I can only chalk it up to pre-trip anxiety and distraction.
After we unpacked, our next priority was finding lunch. We ended up at a place called El Grande Loco Taco. I had a beef burrito—OK, nothing special. We spent the rest of the afternoon just kind of getting settled in.
Dinner with Organic John
Around 5:30ish, we left for our dinner engagement at Michele’s cousin John’s place. We couldn’t have gotten there without a car. John lives in Kentfield, a suburb just north of San Francisco. Michele had arranged the visit before the trip and kindly included me in the invitation. When we arrived, it looked pretty unremarkable: a multi-car garage off a paved road in a wooded area. But once we got out and climbed the stairs up to the house (probably about 50 steps), we emerged to be faced with a small, fenced-in wading pool and a porch area with many plants and ceramic art on the walls. John came out to greet us—a lean, older man with a shock of white hair like Andy Warhol and a wide grin. Then we went into his home.
My first impression was of dark reddish wood everywhere, curved bows over doorways, stained glass accents in all the windows, wood floors with Asian carpets, obviously expensive art pieces scattered tastefully around. His set of vibes sat in the center of a Zen room off the kitchen; he’s a musician. My second thought was “It’s a hobbit hole!” and after I thought it, John actually said “It’s a hobbit house.” Of course, I asked if he was a Tolkein fan; he said no, and it was clear from the way he said it that he had no interest in pop culture whatsoever. That being said, the music for the evening was Pink Martini. He’s a chef, therapist, real estate guy, musician, author, and apparently a cable TV host. Dinner was a vegan feast, very umami in flavor across the board. Over dinner, he held forth about the benefits of eating vegan and organic, staying in shape and so on. He was very . . . emphatic about his positions with regard to these things. He was an engaging and congenial host if, I thought, a bit self-impressed. His house was astonishing; really, we none of us could get over it. I shall post pictures at some point, but I’ve never seen anything like it. It has a small tower reachable only by a floating set of wooden stairs up to a small private dining area lined with his DVD collection and lit by a skylight. The bathroom was fully tiled and included a soaking tub and shower, in a sort of sculptural style that was very organic. The place resists description. He also had two pretty congenial Siamese cats, from whom I took a little solace.
All in all, it was a terrific first day. We all dropped into bed, exhausted and happy.
Our apartment and neighborhood
The apartment we’re renting (found via VRBO) is in Noe Valley, just a few blocks from the Mission District. It’s a two-bedroom place, obviously pre-war (but not obviously Victorian) that’s been remodeled inside to maintain the best of its pre-war features while updating things like the bathroom and the kitchen. So the kitchen has a wonderful gas stove, stone counters and a deep, undermounted sink, all the lighting fixtures in the ceiling are accented with medallions, the wainscoting is beautiful white bead board, and the ceilings are coved. The kitchen has this awesome framed poster: a photograph of a boy reading to a kneeling elephant. The title on it says “Ashes and Snow”. The photographer is Gregory Colbert from an exhibit at the Nomadic Museum at Santa Monica in 2006. I want to see if I can find the poster for myself.
Steve and his wife Michele are using the master bedroom; I’m in what is obviously meant to be the kids’ room—two single beds and two lava lamps, of all things--and my niece Valerie is sleeping on the fold-out couch in the living room. The kitchen is spacious. At the back of the kitchen is a door out onto a small wood deck with stairs that go up to the unit above ours, and down into a tightly packed and verdant garden with a wonderful water feature full of koi.
Our first order of business was getting settled and doing some grocery shopping. We found a Safeway and a Walgreens within two or three blocks of where we’re staying, and stocked up. As it turned out, in an effort to pack economically, I forgot to pack socks! I also, as it turns out, did not really choose my clothes well and I feel like I don’t really have what I want to have in terms of variety and practicality. I don’t know why I packed like I did, honestly. I can only chalk it up to pre-trip anxiety and distraction.
After we unpacked, our next priority was finding lunch. We ended up at a place called El Grande Loco Taco. I had a beef burrito—OK, nothing special. We spent the rest of the afternoon just kind of getting settled in.
Dinner with Organic John
Around 5:30ish, we left for our dinner engagement at Michele’s cousin John’s place. We couldn’t have gotten there without a car. John lives in Kentfield, a suburb just north of San Francisco. Michele had arranged the visit before the trip and kindly included me in the invitation. When we arrived, it looked pretty unremarkable: a multi-car garage off a paved road in a wooded area. But once we got out and climbed the stairs up to the house (probably about 50 steps), we emerged to be faced with a small, fenced-in wading pool and a porch area with many plants and ceramic art on the walls. John came out to greet us—a lean, older man with a shock of white hair like Andy Warhol and a wide grin. Then we went into his home.
My first impression was of dark reddish wood everywhere, curved bows over doorways, stained glass accents in all the windows, wood floors with Asian carpets, obviously expensive art pieces scattered tastefully around. His set of vibes sat in the center of a Zen room off the kitchen; he’s a musician. My second thought was “It’s a hobbit hole!” and after I thought it, John actually said “It’s a hobbit house.” Of course, I asked if he was a Tolkein fan; he said no, and it was clear from the way he said it that he had no interest in pop culture whatsoever. That being said, the music for the evening was Pink Martini. He’s a chef, therapist, real estate guy, musician, author, and apparently a cable TV host. Dinner was a vegan feast, very umami in flavor across the board. Over dinner, he held forth about the benefits of eating vegan and organic, staying in shape and so on. He was very . . . emphatic about his positions with regard to these things. He was an engaging and congenial host if, I thought, a bit self-impressed. His house was astonishing; really, we none of us could get over it. I shall post pictures at some point, but I’ve never seen anything like it. It has a small tower reachable only by a floating set of wooden stairs up to a small private dining area lined with his DVD collection and lit by a skylight. The bathroom was fully tiled and included a soaking tub and shower, in a sort of sculptural style that was very organic. The place resists description. He also had two pretty congenial Siamese cats, from whom I took a little solace.
All in all, it was a terrific first day. We all dropped into bed, exhausted and happy.