Fran Sancisco
Rice-a-roni… It’s the San Francisco treat [Ding Ding!]
I finally made it out of the hotel. 20 hours of conferences packed into 48 hours is a bit much for anyone. I hit as many of the sites as I could in the three hours I had. I took the trolley (does calling it that make me a tourist?) from the hotel down to Fisherman’s Wharf. Now, I don’t want to complain, but there was a four block area where they didn’t bother to turn on the power. I walked right up to the big ol’ sign and didn’t even see it.
From there I headed to Pier 39. I snapped some shots - the Golden Gate in the dark - sea loins in the dark - what I think was Alcatraz (hey, it was dark, okay?). I filled my belly with crab, spun through the wax museum - I think I saw the Saddam Hussein figure blink, so he may have already left his country. Then I trolley-ed back. The brakeman (does calling him that make me a tourist?) and I chatted about the usual - weather. He was complaining about the wind getting cold. I told him my Wisconsin-winter-trained physiology was sweating in the balmy 50 degrees. That will change tomorrow, though, when it’s back to the frigid wasteland.