Monday                                                                     May  2015

Picked up Kim  when she got off work, left the car at Park & Fly and took the shuttle to the airport.  I checked my bag and Virgin America charged me $25. but never again.

We ate at the PGA Grill in the airport. I had chicken skewers which were spicy hot served with a slice of fresh but cold pineapple.  Kim had a dish with flatbread and BBQ shrimp.  Found the gate for the 7:20 flight but when we were within a half hour of boarding they announced a delay because of the weather in San Francisco.  If you’ve ever seen pictures of the Golden Gate, half of them are shrouded in fog.  Right about 9:00 pm our flight was called and very quickly they got us loaded and on the runway.  Hours late we arrived and caught the shuttle to the hotel.  We were at the grand old Majestic Hotel by 11.   A tiny elevator took us to our room.  The furnishings were old fashioned and the bathroom had a clawfoot tub. We didn’t take showers although we would have loved it, because the room was just too cold.  Kim found the heater switch behind the heavy drapery of the canopy and turned it on.  The beds and mattresses were very high off the floor, draped with the same material as the big bay window.  Kim said the beds were like those in The Princess and the Pea story.  There were plenty of covers on the bed and I slept comfortably.  It had been a long day.

When the Majestic Hotel was built in 1902, it was four stories high, had 57 guest rooms, 29 wash basins, 25 bathtubs and 30 water closets. The Majestic remained open for business during the turmoil of 1906 and has been declared the longest operating hotel in San Francisco.

Several owners and several restorations later and with a fifth floor added, it is now owned by a man who came to this country as an immigrant and worked his way up working at some of the finest hotels in San Francisco.  The granddaughter of the original owners, who lived in room 407, is said to haunt the hotel.  Her portrait hangs in the lobby.

There are, however, two portraits in the lobby and the woman at the desk did not know which painting was of the granddaughter or if they both were.

The entrance and the lobby were glitzy and elegant with touches of gold and plenty of marble.  The tiny elevator was painted with the monkey design that was very popular in Victorian times.

 

Tuesday

We used the first day to get to know the area, walking down Sutter Street to Pierce and returning on Bush Street. 

Both were lined with exquisite examples of Victorian architecture.  The plan was to make our way to the shops on Union Street, see the VedantaTemple and then continue on to wherever the rest of the day took us.

Not knowing when we would find our first café, we ate breakfast at the hotel, an omelet for Kim and a toasted bagel for me. We set off down Sutter Street and just a short distance away was the Queen Anne Hotel, an actual Queen Anne Victorian.  The lobby of the large pink hotel was stuffed with furniture and knickknacks, mirrors and chandeliers, so Victorian!!!  And just the way it should be.  I had wavered between staying at the Majestic or the Queen Anne because of their architecture.  It was not an easy choice.

The Queen Anne Hotel began as a boarding school in 1890, known as Miss Mary Lake’s School for Girls.  Later it became the Cosmos Gentleman’s Club which was succeeded by the Episcopal Dioceses’ Girls Friendly Society Lodge.  For the following 50 years it was vacant before being renovated in 1980.  It opened as a 48 room hotel in 1995. Miss Mary Lake still wanders the halls and at times plays the piano in the parlor.  In Suite 410, it is said, Miss Mary tucks her guests into their beds in the room that was once hers.  The room is booked months in advance at $350. a night.

We walked past Japantown with its paved courtyard lined with shops and the iconic pagoda in the background. The street signs are in Japanese and English.

Right away on Sutter and the side streets we saw wonderful details, porches with delicate railings, turrets with witches caps, small stained glass windows and large bay windows, and facades beautifully painted with carefully chosen color schemes.

I wish I could tell one Victorian style from another but they are all just wonderful, ornate and colorful, no matter what style they are. The Queen Annes are flamboyant and fussy with lots of frills and fancywork.

 

These are the real mansions, the great houses that were built to express prosperity and position in society and business.  These are the turreted beauties, displayed in all their splendor.

Each one is truly like a grand dame with lacy woodwork that decorates her curves and trims her pastel gown.  They sit upon raised hillocks, their porches spread like skirts upon the lawn with flowers at their feet.

The Edwardian is the classic design but to me there are as many Italianates and they are similar except that the Edwardians have a flatter façade and less detail. 

 

The homes we saw generally had two stories with a bay window on each floor. The color of the woodwork contrasts with the base color of the building with one or more accent colors that bring out intricate details.

 

 

 

Both styles are narrow homes that look like little villas and they are often found lined up like soldiers one after the other down the street.

 

 

 

Most have been lovingly restored with tiny gardens enclosed by delicate wrought iron fences.   I think that says something about the people of San Francisco and their love of the city and its history.  It is not an easy or inexpensive task to preserve these beautiful ladies.

And although not the grand dames, some of my favorites were the rows of homes with narrow, rounded facades each one with witches caps that were built in groups of six or so. Now painted to stress their individuality they are a striking sight I’ve never seen duplicated.

When I first started planning our walks I tried to find streets with several Victorians within the block. First I found Sutter and Bush which are lined with great examples of the architecture, but the more I looked and, in fact, the more we walked in the next few days, we discovered that there are thousands of Victorians and they are on nearly every street in almost every neighborhood across the city.

A little passageway connects Bush with Sutter, bordered on one side by flowering plants and shrubs and on the other by Bush Street Cottage Row, built as an investment to be rented out to single families.

A huge red and grey stone building was once the Golden Gate Commandery of Knights Templar. It’s now the Macedonia Missionary Baptist Church, but still holds some of the Templar mystery as far as I’m concerned.

St. Dominic’s Catholic Church is a massive Gothic structure that takes up most of the block between Steiner and Pierce.

A little bakery on the corner of Filmore and Bush was almost hidden under scaffolding but we peeked in to check out the pastries. We had already had breakfast but we knew from the display cases that we would definitely be returning to the Filmore Bakery.  It looked too good to resist.

There were so many different styles of ornamentation on the buildings that just walking up and down the streets showed a cross section of the cultures that make up San Francisco, even the elaborate churrigueresque, the ornamental Spanish Baroque.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We zigzagged across the city to Union Street.  I don’t know what I was expecting but the shops didn’t catch my eye.  I had broken my watch band when we first arrived at the hotel, so we stopped in a jewelry store to have it repaired, then decided it was time for lunch.  La Boulange is a café bakery with an extensive menu and a display case of fresh breads and pastries.  We gathered our goodies and ate at the communal tables. It turned out to be a great discovery.

We stopped in several stores, looking for a pop-up skyline of San Francisco, but no shop had anything like it.  One shop owner told me to check in Russian Hill but that would have taken us in the opposite direction and I decided to just keep looking.  In a lovely card shop named Lola I found two large pop-up cards.  While trying to decide which one to buy I found a smaller card in size but 4 times as long and it was in its own little plastic package.  It was perfect.

The Union Street shopping district is bordered by Filmore, Chestnut, Webster and back to Union, where I started looking for the Vedanta Temple.  To my disappointment it was wrapped from top to bottom probably for a rehab so I only saw the very tip of one little capped turret.  Walking alongside the temple started us going in the wrong direction and we ended up with more hills to walk up after discovering our mistake.

With all the walking Starbuck’s was a great excuse to stay hydrated. Union Street brought us to Polk, another shopping street, and we just made our way through the city.  I couldn’t believe that the houses could continually keep surprising us but with so much detail, color and design, they did.

Then suddenly there would be a Romanesque church or a building that looked like a Roman temple just to mix it up.

 

The art deco buildings surprised me the most, because I didn’t realize San Francisco had an art deco/art nouveau period.

 

There were fan awnings and borders around the tops of tall buildings. On one wall was painted a black gated fence that looked real.  We had seen this kind of thing in Paris, a trellis design in 3D often done during that time.  I learned in Paris that Kim doesn’t like Art Nouveau and Deco but she knows I do, so if she sees one, she points it out.

Our favorite intersection of California and Franklin is one block away from the last stop on the California Street cable car line.   With two beautiful buildings and Whole Foods we passed by it every day, trudging up the last steep block of California.

On one corner stands the sturdy looking grey stone Trinity and St. Peter’s with its tall square tower.   A small garden softened one side of the church with flowers spilling through the wrought iron fence.

A sign warned that the structure was unreinforced masonry and would not be a safe refuge in case of an earthquake.  Another sign in flowery script said that this was the first Protestant Episcopal church on the Pacific Coast.

 

 

Across the street is the lovely Edward Coleman house, an elegant Queen Anne with bands of delicate designs in peach that wrap around the fat turret with its tall witches cap. We saw her everyday and never got tired of this beautiful mansion.

Whole Foods became our go-to place, for breakfast, snack, water for the day, dinner or dessert pastry.  It’s a tremendous store, packed with everything you could possibly need or want and very convenient for us.

San Francisco is always surprising.  You don’t have to look for the famous mansions and historical buildings, they find you.  We turned up Clay, enjoying the simple classical lines of the Golden Gate Spiritualist Church then marveled at all of the incredible details that decorate the Haas-Lilienthal Mansion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We followed a high white concrete wall up to Octavia, a wide, steep street, bordered by large mansions surrounded by gardens.

 

 

The center strip is green with grass and old growth trees.

 

 

At the top of the steep hill is the Spreckles Mansion built by the sugar king.  It is owned now by Danielle Steele and she has made enemies with the infamous hedge, so overgrown that it hides the beautiful, historic house’s facade.

I read that she bought up all the parking spaces around these streets so nobody else could use them.  I have better thoughts about this mansion which stood in for Pal Joey’s nightclub in the movie.  The mansion’s history is much more interesting when the Spreckles owned it.

The Spreckels’ white stone mansion was built on sugar. The family fortune began in Hawaii, supposedly when the water rights were won in a poker game from the king of Hawaii.  (The king must have liked San Francisco because he died in the Palace Hotel.)   A sugar refinery was opened in San Francisco and the family fortune continued to grow.  The second son, Adolph, ran the sugar business. Alma was an art student and modeled for other artists.  She became a celebrity after suing an ex-boyfriend for breach of promise and because of that notoriety she was chosen to model for the Goddess of Victory statue that tops the Dewey Monument in Union Square.  Adolph was involved in the committee funding the monument and fell in love with her. He courted her for five years and then they married.

Adolph bought the property at Washington and Octavia as a Christmas present for Alma.   They needed more space in order to build their enormous French Chateau which meant tearing down the Victorian house on the corner. Alma insisted that the other eight houses around the property be moved rather than demolished.  When the mansion was finished, the couple hosted many parties there and this launched Alma in society.

On a trip to Europe Alma was introduced to Rodin and acquired many of his bronzes which she brought back for the Panama Pacific Exposition.   She convinced Adolph to support her vision for a museum as a memorial for the soldiers from California who were killed in the war.  At the Panama Pacific Exposition of 1915 Alma admired the French Pavilion which was a smaller replica of the Palace of the Legion of Honor in Paris.  The French government granted her permission to build an exact replica of that pavilion for her museum.  It opened six months after Adolph died. Alma was devastated but his death made her one of the richest women in the West.  She liquidated most of her assets and lived a celebrity lifestyle while continuing her philanthropic activities.  She spent her last days in the mansion on Washington Street, eccentric and solitary except for her two daughters and her grandchildren who she visited.   She died of pneumonia having spent her 14 million dollar fortune down to 1 million.  Her daughters received the mansion and her grandchildren got the money.  The mansion was divided into four luxury apartments until it was bought by Danielle Steel who restored it to a single family home.

Holy Trinity Cathedral is a little church with a Russian heritage.  The bell tower holds 7 bells, 5 were given by Alexander III in 1888 and the other two were recast from bells that had melted in the fires.

 

Inside there is a grand chandelier given by Nicholas II.

 

 

The Palace of the Legion of Honor houses more than 70 Rodin sculptures donated by Alma Spreckels   She also gave them a large portion of her collection of French furniture, silver, ceramics, antiquities, and a large group of objects associated with the art of the dance.

Many of the magnificent buildings were sited on intersections as if to offer more views of their opulence, like the Whittier mansion with its four, huge, fat turrets at Laguna and Jackson or the Armani Showroom at Grant and Market. Calvary Presbyterian Church looks more like a courthouse or government building.  The Golden Gate Valley branch library looks like a Roman temple or a bunker; I can’t decide which.

The Moorish Revival Alhamba theater on Polk Street opened in 1926.  It’s not  Crunch Fitness and has cardio machines facing the screen where they show movies.

Old theaters seem to have a penchant to becoming gyms.  All that space – doing instead of watching.  And there are so many charming oddities, unusual church steeples, gorgeous street lamps and old storefronts.

 

 

 

 

We walked up and down incredibly steep streets that had steps built into the middle of the sidewalk.   I can only imagine what it is like in the rain.

 

 

 

Every once in a while we saw a strange little house in the midst of the more usual houses.

 

 

It was smaller or very, very narrow or painted a bright primary color.  Not a shrinking violet, they reminded me of Horton Hears A Who.  I am here.

I am here.

 

We walked by a little house painted sky blue and white surrounded by a picket fence and I realized it was the McElroy Octagon House at Gough & Union.

A private residence until bought by a utility company, it was abandoned and deteriorating until it was rescued by the Colonial Dames of America who moved it across the street and restored it. The original two floors with a spiral staircase in the middle were changed to accommodate their offices and a museum of decorative arts.  This is only one of three octagons left in the city. They had weird visiting hours, but we don’t usually go into museums anyway.

The Episcopal Church of St. Mary the Virgin and St. Vincent DePaul Catholic Church sit comfortably together on opposite corners of Green Street, the dark brown homey St. Mary’s contrasting with the light peach colored exterior and odd capped tower of St. Vincent’s.

We stopped at Whole Foods to buy our 7 day transit passes because we would need them the next day. Even though we would only be in San Francisco for five days, it would be worth the convenience of not having to pay every time we hopped on a bus or cable car.  The cable car fare alone is $6.00 each time you climb on.

We asked at our hotel for a dinner recommendation and of course they offered their restaurant but we said we were looking for something casual.

One of them mentioned Slider’s.  It was just a couple of blocks away, a little diner with a very friendly welcome.  I had a great bacon cheese  burger and fries to share with Kim and she had a black bean burger with extra cheese and avocado.  The food was delicious and the service was fast and fun.

We walked around to check out the area, looking for other possible restaurants or interesting things. Not much in that neighborhood, but many Persian restaurants and shops which I had not noticed before.  Walking back to the hotel we passed the very plain Spanish Consulate and I remembered that a store called Treasures and Charms was supposed to be located in the next building, a beautiful Victorian.  We went up the steps and were met at the door.  I told the man what we were looking for and he said the shop had moved to Union Street.  We told him we were admiring his lovely building and he said that it was the Payne Mansion, now a hotel.  He invited us in to look around.

The mansion was built for Theodore F. Payne and is one of the few to survive the fires of 1906.  The mansion had been renovated for office space, but after another $3 million renovation it opened as a hotel.

A gorgeous stairway held center stage amid elegant rooms framed in dark woodwork.  A glass solarium hugged the outside of the building and was entered through the bar.  The floor had an inlaid marble design.  Absolutely wonderful and the manager was so nice to let us see this beautiful mansion.

 

I swear I’ve seen this cat before.

Back at the Majestic we took our showers.  The room was much warmer in the late afternoon with the sunnier weather.  The bay window overlooked the busy intersection of Gough and Sutter where people hurried back and forth.  Traffic was pretty constant during the day and the city noises that should have kept me awake did not.  The twin canopied beds were comfortable and after a nice hot shower, I had no problem falling asleep.

 

 

Wednesday

Back to our Whole Foods to get something for breakfast. It was sunny already so Kim returned to the hotel to get her hat.  I picked out pastries and Kim combined  several hot items from the buffet which she said was very good.  We ate in the little café downstairs where they had a coffee bar.

We caught the #38 bus at Gough and Sacramento.  It was a straight shot to Park Presidio where we crossed the street to the #28 bus to Moraga and 16th.  At one stop a woman boarded the bus after heaving on four enormous bags of recycled cans.  I tried to think good thoughts, but I kept wondering how people would like to sit on those seats.

We walked up the very steep Moraga Street hill to the gorgeous mosaic tile steps completed in 2005.  It wasn’t too busy, maybe a dozen people up and down the 163 steps.

There are a lot of little details woven into an overall design that is brightly colored and beautifully executed.  Little fish, birds and animals peek out of the flower-decked design where the names of the people who worked on it are inscribed.  Small pieces are joined into larger sections that swirl their way up the steps.

 

 

The top two sections change from night to day or starry universe to swirling sun, brilliant with primary colors and sparkling with mirrored shards.  The steps are neatly landscaped and are shady and cool.  There is a lovely view down Moraga Street, over the valley and all the way to the ocean.

 

 

At the top we followed 15th Avenue and Aloha around to the second set of stairs at 16th Avenue.  The 148 Hidden Garden steps are newer than the Moraga steps, and were finished in 2013.  The staircase appears discreetly on the right.  Because only the face of the step is decorated the stairs are very plain seen from the top.

We walked down in stages, then turned to look back.  Three young oriental girls stood in the middle of the flight the entire time so we photographed around them.  The mosaic design is as brilliantly colored as the Moraga Steps but seems a little more cohesive.

 

 

 

Huge butterflies, tigers eye moths and dragonflies weave their way through enormous gaudy blossoms.  At the bottom the overall design climbs up, disappearing into infinity.

 

 

A short walk down Kirkham to the bus stop at 9th Avenue brought us to another staircase, this one plain from top to bottom, obviously waiting for another neighborhood to put their stamp on it.  I would love to come back some day and see that it had been transformed.

The #44 bus brought us to Golden Gate Park and several very helpful commuters told us where to get off.  The bus stop was at the de Young Museum with its crazy modern façade and the Francis Scott Key gothic memorial.  We followed a winding pathway through the park and came upon the service entrance of the Conservatory of Flowers.

The ticket booth looked like it was right out of a Victorian play, the perfect beginning to our walk through the greenhouse. The large white building is the oldest public wood-and-glass conservatory in North America.  A wealthy businessman and philanthropist ordered the greenhouse for his Santa Clara estate but died before it was erected.  The parts remained in crates until it was put up for sale.  The kit was purchased by some prominent San Franciscans who gave it to the city.  The Conservatory opened to the public in 1879.

Fire has damaged the structure several times.  During the first restoration the dome was raised by six feet and the eagle finial was replaced by the planet Saturn.  The 1906 earthquake did not damage the conservatory and the fires did not reach its location.

The second fire caused a 13 year closure because of structural damage.  A more recent wind storm toppled so many of the surrounding trees that the conservatory was exposed to the elements.  A large portion of the glass was smashed and rare plants were lost.  Once again the building was closed.  After a $25 million dollar restoration, the conservatory reopened in 2003.

The warm moist air hits you as soon as you walk through the double doors.  Everything is so green and lush.  Every space from the floor to the glass paneled roof is studded with hundred of orchids and other tropical plants.

Huge leaves shelter spiky tendrils where tiny blossoms cascade over a pond.

 

 

Baskets of dancing lady orchids add a splash of gold.  One corner is covered with pink and blue morning glories in a mass of greenery.

 

 

 

 

 

Brown pods right out of the Invasion of the Body Snatchers hang on thick vines, waiting for their hapless victims.

 

Through the next door the air is even hotter and more humid than the last.

 

 

The walkway rivaled the beauty of the lush garden.

 

 

Tropical plants are more dense here, with larger leaves and vibrantly colored blossoms in strange shapes.

It is easy to believe in extraterrestrial life in this place.  Water spills over rocks, rippling the pools and shivering the reflection.  The tiniest flower holds its own against the massive display so carefully combined inside the greenhouse.

 

 

 

A path curves in and out, allowing views through the jungle.

 

 

 

I think if I didn’t take photographs I would miss half of what is there.  Always looking to what is hidden, what is shy.

 

 

As large as the greenhouse is, the walk along the pathway is over too quickly.  The air outside is refreshing after the heat and humidity.  Kim said, “If orchids like it that hot and humid, no wonder I have trouble keeping them.”

We walked up to Arguello Street, passing through the old gates of the park and straight on to Loraine Court and the neo-classical building that houses the copper-domed Columbarium.

Restored by the Neptune Society, the rotunda is surrounded by rooms lined with niches containing thousands of memorials, remains and cenotaphs.

We entered through huge metal doors.  A compass rose in colored stone is inlaid in the floor of the rotunda.   The eight rooms around the wide rotunda are named for the winds of mythology and are graced by stained glass windows,

Overhead sunlight streams down through a huge colored glass dome.  It is very peaceful.

Stanyon Street brought us right to the Haight.  The street is a bit ragged with splashes of color and tiny shops reminiscent of the hippy days.

 

 

What treasures would be found behind this dusty glass.

 

 

 

 

There is an adorable little blue and white house with balconies next to the Red Victorian.  Marie Antoinette would have loved it.

 

 

 

 

 

The wide colorful façade of The Wasteland thrift store stands on one side of the street next to a tiny, bright orange Mexican place.

 

 

 

 

After eating so much Italian food lately I had told Kim we were going to look for Mexican food.  This seemed like a real possibility.

 

El Faro is at 1654 Haight Street.  I’m not sure of the name and reviews said El Faro was closed, but whatever the place is called the food was delicious.  I got two beef enchiladas with melted cheese, beans and rice.  The girl behind the counter stuffed the enchiladas with meat and then melted the cheese under the broiler.  The large platter was full and the food was very hot.  Excellent.  We sat at the counter by the windows and watched the street.  The small storefront was deceptive.  Inside a stairway led up to more tables in the balcony.  The bathroom was a little ghetto with tagging, but the restaurant was clean and airy and bright with color.   Mirrors on the walls reflected both the restaurant and the view outside.  It made the people look like they were walking into walls.

 

The iconic Haight-Ashbury street sign is also the location of Ben & Jerry’s.  As full as we were from lunch, Kim insisted we try the Coffee Buzz Buzz Buzz with chunks of chocolate.  Luckily it was a small cone and it was fantastic

 

As we left the shop I spotted the, again iconic, mannequin legs sticking out of a second story window, an unexplained tidbit about San Francisco.

On the corner bright red murals covered a burger joint from top to bottom.

 

 

Side streets brought us to more Victorian mansions and another building size mural.

 

 

 

 

Up the hill to one block to Waller Street where there was a row of what I named chalet Victorians for the distinctive design of their identical porches and medallions – each one differentiated only by the different color palate.

 

 

 

 

Central Avenue at Haight was under construction but there was still a wonderful view of the brightly painted row of round houses with their pointed witches capped turrets.

When I first planned our walks around San Francisco it seemed there were certain streets and neighborhoods with Victorians, but from the first day I realized that these wonderful houses were everywhere and on almost every street.

This corner house had a metallic finish that glowed a deep silvery bronze in the sun.

 

So after walking around Haight-Ashbury we decided to cut out a small section of more houses, cross over the Panhandle that extends from Golden Gate Park and begin our walk toward Alamo Square.   Our walk took us past the enormous Thomas Jefferson Clunie Queen Anne mansion, on to Lyon Street which leads to Fulton and both were lined with more extraordinary houses.

One house painted a deep purple trimmed with dark grey and lavender stands next to a two story greenish grey house, elaborately trimmed in white.  A small reddish brown house with orange and beige flourishes sits next to another house that looks a little forlorn, stripped of most of its decoration.  The squat modern box next door was painted a muddy brown.

Stairways lead up to tiny porches, arched with wooden lace that is often echoed in the balconies above.  Along one street there was a skinny little house, decked out in all its finery, a little gem in a neighborhood of jewels.  On another street a house painted in vibrant primary colors is surrounded by more discreet neighbors.

Soon we came to Scott Street and the beginning of the area surrounding Alamo Square.  Considered the Western Addition (areas are being renamed to make them hipper) the side streets around the square are packed with lovely Victorians in a variety of shapes and sizes and colors, as well as many under restoration.

It’s really wonderful to see how this heritage is being cared for.

At Fulton and Scott, just at the corner of the square, is the Westerfeld house, a Gothic stick Italian villa, built by a candy baron in 1889.  The residents have included jazz musicians, Satanists, and a Manson family member.  It was once a Russian Czarist nightclub and in the 60’s the house held one of the first hippy communes.

We climbed over the low stone wall that surrounds the park and partway up the hill to sit awhile in the shade of a large tree overlooking the busy street.  One of the Victorians across the way was stripped to the studs, reminding me of a great lady, standing in her underwear, her whalebone corset showing.  I hope they do her justice when they dress her up again.

The best streets form a grid around the square which leads to some backtracking but it is worth it to see the variety.  Pretty rows of identical houses in pastel paint, like dancers in a ballet float down one block while on the next street a line of turreted columns vie with each other in darker hues and seem proud and a little standoffish.

Before we returned to the hotel we had to climb to the top of Alamo Square for the quintessential view of the Painted Ladies with the skyline of San Francisco in the background.

Once again I got turned around, walking into the park at one corner and heading toward the top when I looked over my shoulder and there the Painted Ladies were on the opposite side than I was expecting.  As we walked higher, the view kept changing until the whole skyline was visible behind the famous row of Victorians.  Dogs were playing with their owners, chasing balls and sticks.  People sat on blankets and picnicked on the grass.  It was very breezy on the hillside.  At the very top I could see the bench that has appeared in so many movies and television shows.  Strange to be in a place like that.  Much the same feeling I get when I see a location where I’ve been pictured in a film.

Back at McAllister Street we ran for the #22 bus but missed it…luckily.  It was going in the wrong direction.  Moments later we almost missed the right bus.  We got off at Sutter with a little help from our fellow passengers when the doors refused to open and the bus began to pull away.  As we walked up Sutter to the Majestic, I kidded Kim about having to walk up the hilly street, because another bus passed us by and we could have ridden back.  Stopping at Japantown we went in to a little store with hundred of pretty papers for folding.  It made me wish I could do origami.  I tried making cranes but they all came out looking rather wounded.

We got back to the hotel fairly early and Kim took a nap.  I woke her around 6:30 and told her that if we didn’t go back out to get something to eat that by 8:00, we would be starving and it would be too late, so we ended up back at Whole Foods.  Kim was looking for the packaged hummus meal she had spotted the day before, but when we couldn’t find it, we decided on pastries.  She got two tiny tarts, key lime and fresh fruit and I got an enormous éclair.  We bought coffee and cappuccino in the café and ate there.

 

Thursday

Bob’s Donut & Pastry Shop on Polk Street had a good review so we decided to try it.  Passing by another bakery with a display case full of goodies we came to Bob’s. There wasn’t much of a choice but I always get plain cake anyway.  We ate at the counter in the back of the tiny shop I drank  my sparkling raspberry juice and didn’t miss having coffee.  I don’t know what all the fuss was about.  Bob’s was nothing special.

Back to California Street to get the cable car to Nob Hill.  It’s fun taking the cable cars and California is a very steep street, so that’s an even better reason to ride.

 

 

The wealthy nobs built their mansions at the very top of Nob Hill, on the streets that surround what is now Huntington Park.  The grand hotels are located here and Grace Cathedral but I am really torn because the ostentatious mansions built by the movers and shakers who brought business to San Francisco in its early days are now completely gone and imagination just doesn’t do it.  The most famous of the men were Crocker, Huntington, Hopkins, Fair, Stanford and Flood, who made their fortunes primarily in railroads and silver.  To me their history makes the area more interesting, especially when you know a little of their lives and idiosyncrasies.  Like most people, the Big Four and their associates had good sides and bad but no one can doubt they left their mark on San Francisco and particularly on Nob Hill.  I only wish that their mansions had survived as well.

However, the story of Nob Hill begins with a German immigrant and undertaker named Yung who bought a corner lot at the top of the hill on California Street and built a modest home which was isolated on top of the steep hill but offered panoramic views over the city.

In 1878 the California Street Cable Cars turned the remote hill into San Francisco’s most exclusive and desirable  real estate.  Leland Stanford and Mark Hopkins were the first to build their palatial mansions on California Street.

Charles Crocker was very aggressive in business and in his personal life and the Central Pacific Railroad was how he made his money. Planning to build an even grander mansion than Hopkins and Stanford, Crocker bought the block bordered by Sacramento, Taylor, California and Jones; all except for the small corner property owned by Yung at Taylor and Sacramento which Yung wouldn’t sell.   Crocker began building his redwood mansion, which would include a fully equipped theater, library, billiard room, an art gallery and a 75-foot tower from which he could look down on the city below.

As building on the mansion progressed and Yung still wouldn’t sell, Crocker tried unscrupulous ways to get Yung to sell, finally doubling the original offer, but Yung still refused.

Used to getting his way, the angry Crocker paid to have a forty foot high fence built around three sides of the Yung’s house, cutting them off from sunlight, air and the view. The spite fence became a popular sightseeing attraction and a symbol of wealth and power over the little guy.  In retaliation, the undertaker placed a coffin, embellished with skull and crossbones, on his roof plainly visible from the Crocker mansion’s rear windows.   Eventually the Yung’s moved their house, leaving the lot unused and overgrown.

When Crocker’s mansion was finished, it was the grandest of the homes on Nob Hill and some said the ugliest.  One architect offered to burn it down as a public service.         When Charles Crocker died his heirs kept the fence and the feud continued.  When Yung died, he left his widow well off and she did not need to sell the vacant lot.  Despite the feud she refused offers to use the fence as billboard advertising or to lease the lot for a Chinese laundry which would have annoyed Crocker.  When she died she bequeathed the lot to her four daughters.  As part of the estate, the lot was put up for sale.  One source stated that the Crocker estate bought the lot and the fence was removed.

Crocker’s Second Empire-Italian Villa style mansion and the Queen Anne mansion he had built for his newly married son, William, right next door were destroyed in the 1906 fires.

 

On the southwest corner of California Street is a 12 story brick building built on the site of the Victorian mansion owned by Richard Tobin, the founder of the Hibernia Bank.  The first brick and steel high rise to be constructed west of the Mississippi River began as the Huntington Apartments. Eugene Fritz converted the apartment building into The Huntington Hotel and gave it to his daughter, Dolly, who ran it successfully.  The Huntington Hotel was sold, renovated and has since opened as the Scarlet Huntington.

One of the few relics that remain from the devastation of 1906 is the white marble portico that framed the front door of the Towne mansion. Named The Portal to the Past it was moved to Lloyd’s Lake in Golden Gate Park and is used as a wedding site.

 

Huntington Park was the location of Collis Hun­tington’s mansion which was originally built for the lawyer of the Pacific Central Railroad which was owned by Crocker, Hopkins, Stanford and Huntington.   A talented man, Huntington was not above some skullduggery.   Upon the lawyer’s death the Big Four sued his widow, claiming her husband had embezzled railroad funds.  The widow produced six hundred letters from Huntington to her husband, proving that he had been directed to use the money to buy politicians for the railroad in Washington and Sacramento.   Once her husband was exonerated, the widow sold the house and left San Francisco. Huntington later bought the mansion which was destroyed in the 1906 fires.   His widow donated the land to the city for a park.  In the center is a copy of Rome’s Fontana delle Tartaruga (Fountain of the Turtles), now without the turtles,  a gift of the Crocker family.   Where did the turtles go?

 

 

James Flood was the banker of the group. His fortune began through his partnership in a bar which became a meeting place that presented him with certain business opportunities among which was the chance to invest in the Comstock Lode.  Overnight Flood became a millionaire.

 

His Roman Classical mansion cost over two million dollars to build and furnish.  The mansion was constructed of Connecticut brown stone in a city built with wood and is the reason so much of the building survived. Flood had not lived extravagantly but it was said that he employed one man whose sole job it was to constantly polish the $30,000 fence that surrounds the property, which was patterned after a piece of lace his wife admired.   After the earthquake what remained of the James C. Flood mansion was bought by the members of the very private, men-only Pacific-Union Club.

 

James Fair was a genius in the mining industry, but he was tricky. He made promises he had no intention of keeping, and wanted to win at all cost.  He invested much of his fortune in San Francisco real estate and speculated in the South Pacific Coast Railroad.

Fair’s marriage ended in divorce after his wife charged that he had committed very public and habitual adultery.   She received almost $5,000,000. in cash and the house at 1170 Pine Street, making it the  biggest award at the time.  He got custody of the two sons and she got the two daughters.   When he died he left two conflicting wills and several women came forward claiming to be his wives.

The two daughters married into wealthy, socially prominent families despite their father’s reputation and in 1902, they began construction of The Fairmont Hotel.   Shortly before the new hotel was to open, the sisters sold it to the Law brothers.  Two weeks later, the hotel was gutted by the fire caused by the 1906 Earthquake.  Only the gray granite walls remained.          Julia Morgan was hired to rebuild the hotel and it opened one year after the disaster.   In 1929 the owner of the Mark Hopkins Hotel, purchased the Fairmont, adding a swimming pool and The Cirque Lounge with a wrap around bar was designed.  .         By the 1940s, the Fairmont was in decline.   The interior was renovated to look like a Venetian palazzo and the Venetian Room opened as a nightclub with big name performers.   The tower was added in 1962 and another renovation brought back most of the original design.   Tony Bennett sang I Left My Heart in San Francisco for the first time here.

Not too many years ago the owners of the Fairmont bought the Mark Hopkins Hotel.  Turnabout is fair play.

 

Mark Hopkins, an original investor in the Central Pacific Railroad with Huntington, Crocker and Stanford, was the bookkeeper of the group. He was the commonsense of the Big Four and the conscience (to a certain point), advising on legal and illegal deals.  During the Credit Mobilier scandal, when the dealings of the men who ran the Central Pacific were called into question, Hopkins burned the records.

The railroad made him rich, but he lived frugally until his wife, Mary, talked him into building a bigger home and she meant bigger.  The redwood mansion was a forty room Victorian with Gothic touches.  The jagged roofline was a mass of capped turrets, chimneys and gabled windows.  A four story tower at one entryway opened into an art gallery and a Gothic conservatory perched above the porte-cochere.  The elegant interiors of oak paneling were inlaid with ebony and there was a built-in pipe organ.

Mark Hopkins seems to have suffered from Alzheimer’s disease and when taken to see the progress on the building, he asked,

“ What infernal fool is wasting money on such a house as that?” He died shortly after in his sleep aboard a railroad car, leaving Mary a very wealthy widow.

When the mansion was finished Mary moved in, having hired a decorator to help her finish it, but then moved east. The mansion became The Mark Hopkins Institute of Art which was destroyed in the fire and earthquake of 1906.

The land  is now  the site of the Mark Hopkins Intercontinental Hotel  which opened in 1924, but that’s another story. It really should be The Mary Hopkins Hotel.

Leland Stanford was a merchant who became part of the Big Four and invested in the Central Pacific.  He was a politician and made popular speeches for the restriction of Chinese immigration until it was revealed that the Central Pacific Railroad had imported thousands of Chinese laborers to construct the railway tracks.  He helped form the Pacific Union Express Company which merged with Wells Fargo, but his fortune was the railroads.

Stanford owned thoroughbred horses and had photographic studies made proving that when in motion, a horse had all four feet off the ground.  Stanford lost his young son to an illness he contracted in Florence, Italy.   As a memorial to their son, he and his wife founded Stanford University.   His mansion on Nob Hill, which cost one million five hundred thousand dollars, was occupied only two month out of the year.  At the time it contained the largest collection of old masters outside a public gallery in the United States.

In 1912 The Stanford Court Hotel was originally built as a luxury apartment house with a courtyard entrance  opposite the University Club, which had been the Stanford’s coach house.  Later the building was gutted and rebuilt from the inside out as the Renaissance Stanford Court.  One column and the massive granite and basalt retaining wall that buttresses two sides of the block are all that remain, scarred by the fires that completed the destruction of the neighborhood.  As we walked by I looked for the remaining column of the Stanford Mansion, but there are two columns with the Stanford Court’s nameplate and it doesn’t say which one is the original.

San Francisco was the largest city in California and the economic capital of the West.  One in three inhabitants was foreign born.  With money pouring into the economy from the railroads and mining, the new stock market rode the wave that continued for several years, but the boom played out, leaving the owners millionaires and the shareholders bankrupt.  Rumors fed a second, smaller boom, caused by desperate buyers trying to make up their losses and unscrupulous stockbrokers who sold soon-to-be-worthless shares.

The Great Earthquake of San Francisco woke the city at 5:12AM, on April 18, 1906. The fires which started on the waterfront, fueled by ruptured gas mains and wooden buildings, raged for days over the city.  The 7.9 earthquake had ruptured the water mains as well and there was no pressure to pump the water.  Some buildings were dynamited to try to stop the spread.  Over 3,000 casualties were reported.

Martial law was put into force and shoot-to-kill orders were issued against looters.  Refugee camps sprang up.  Social classes were destroyed by the disaster; everyone was hungry and cold.  They rebuilt housing as quickly as possible to keep the workers from leaving so that there would be a labor force to reconstruct the city.  Many of the buildings were apartment houses instead of individual dwellings.  When the city burned, so quickly and thoroughly, you would think that when they built again, caution would have dictated their plans, but it did not . San Francisco is still a tinderbox – a beautiful, jeweled tinder box, but a tinderbox none the less.

After the disaster the nobs moved away from the hill and posh hotels were built on the ruins of the mansions. The men and their mansions are gone, but their shadows linger.

 

We were early for our tour of Grace Cathedral so we walked down to the Mark Hopkins to check out the lobby.

 

 

The hotel sits kitty-corner to Huntington Park with a paved court surrounded by a stone wall with pillars at the entrance.  The building is very tall and definitely makes its presence known.

 

 

The baroque entrance of three massive canopies over gilded glass doors and red carpet steps opens on a lobby that was small and usual.

The stone exterior of the Fairmont survived the fires and the interior was rebuilt.  The entrance of the Fairmont is handsome and understated.  The lobby on the other hand was gorgeous, gilding everywhere with huge columns crossing a bright, airy space, a spiral staircase, and chandeliers.  Luxurious and elegant.

 

 

Just outside of the hotel’s entrance, also kitty-corner to the park is the tall Brocklebank Apartment building that was in the Alfred Hitchcock movie, Vertigo.  Jimmy Stewart waited outside the building where Kim Novak lived.

 

We headed to Grace Cathedral, walking through Huntington Park which was almost deserted.  The outdoor labyrinth took more time to complete than I thought it would.

 

 

Two women were doing tai chi, recognizable but different from what I was taught.   We stopped to see the Gates of Paradise, a reproduction of the Ghiberti doors in Florence.  The interior of the church is dark and feels older than it is, having been completed in the 1960’s.  Tall stained glass windows filled with a mosaic of tiny pieces of glass cast a blue light deep within the grey stone nave.

We waited for our guide in the aids chapel where the Haring altarpiece tells the life of Christ in pictorial language. A very modern piece.  I had made our appointment on line, expecting to be part of a group, but it turned out the tour was only for us.  Charles showed up right on time.  We signed away our lives, release forms which would allow him to take us up to the tower.  Charles said if we were hurt, they wouldn’t give us any money, but they would pray for us.

The first chapel near this site was built during the gold rush. It was replaced with a larger chapel which was destroyed in the 1906 fires.  The Crocker family donated the block where their mansion had stood for a cathedral and the name came from the nearby parish.

 

 

Grace Cathedral is the largest French Gothic style church on the West Coast. Made of concrete and steel, it was built in stages, progressing each time until the money ran out.  There is evidence of a wall erected halfway down the nave between the old stained glass windows and the new.

The color of the stone is different where construction stopped and began again.  The Crocker family came to the rescue several times and the cathedral was considered completed in 1964. The spaces in the vaulted ceiling have still not been filled in.

 

 

This window was made of very thick slabs of colored glass.  Just gorgeous.

 

 

Charles was very interested in the modern stained glass windows and point out the one that commemorates the achievements of John Glenn but I like the ones in the oldest section of the church.

 

The high altar is made of granite with a single slab of California redwood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The golden light in the sacristy made the dark woodwork glow.

 

 

 

Secret panels led us into the Chapel of the Nativity and the Vestry where Charles showed us some of the special robes and capes worn for different ceremonies, all beautifully embroidered by a parishioner.

 

 

The Chapel of Grace had an intricately carved stone altarpiece that was delicate crafted. We went into the room where boxes and bellows create the wind that turns into organ music and when we came down, the organist was practicing, making very soft sounds before pulling out all the stops.

 

The carved seats in the quire had needlepoint cushions done by the parishioner.  The combination vault held precious objects used in the services.  A tiny elevator took us partway up into the tower and another 94 steps brought us out to the breezy top of the south tower.  I had been told that there are dragons on the spire which guard the city, but of course they are really gargoyles. Back inside we walked along the balcony looking down over the labyrinth in the nave and stopped in the columbarium before ending the tour at the entrance.  We stopped at the gift shop for a silver labyrinth necklace for Kim.

 

 

The very steep Powell Street brought us to Bush and Notre Dame des Victoires, a lovely church reached by a crisscross of staircases.  The church was dimly lit and beautiful, but there was a service going on so we left quietly. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Old St. Mary’s Church, which survived the earthquake, sits at the corner of California Street, a location that suits the first cathedral built in California.

 

Turning into Grant we walked through the Chinatown Gate and into busy, crowded, colorful Chinatown.

 

 

 

 

 

Grant Avenue, the city’s oldest street, is lined on both sides with souvenir shops.

 

 

 

Bins of toys and clothes and wildly garish decorative items spill onto the sidewalks and a steady stream of people made walking almost impossible.

 

The Bank of America has dragons on the columns and on the front doors.   Apartment buildings have oriental flourishes on the balconies and upturned green tiled roofs. Grant Avenue is a wash of colored signs and banners against the bright facades.

 

Dragons coil around lampposts and bright red paper lanterns dance on wires strung from one side of the street to the other.

 

Just off Washington is Waverly Place where three tiny  temples hide behind ordinary doors.  Only the numbers point to their location if you know which ones to look for.  We found all three.

Leaving Chinatown we came into the intersection where Columbus Avenue meets Kearny Street.  It is the location of the Sentinel Building, a late Victorian steel framed flatiron structure with a copper dome.

 

Begun before the earthquake, the framing survived and it was completed in 1907. There are few buildings like the Sentinel in design or style with its patina of aged copper. Against the background of the Transamerica Pyramid, it is small, but it could never be insignificant.  From a distance the red awning of the Zeotrope Café at its base looks like a ruffled skirt.

 

 

 

Across from the Sentinel building is another interesting flatiron with a tower molded into the front. This building is painted a dense black and is vaguely foreboding, although it has a bright, modern coffee shop at the base.

 

 

 

We crossed the busy intersection in search of the House of Nanking, the best Chinese food in San Francisco according to one of Kim’s friends.  We ordered tea and were served an enormous beer mug of hot water with some very strange pink flower buds in it.  It had no flavor and I had no idea what it was supposed to taste like, but straining flowers through my teeth in order to drink the bland mixture was not my cup of tea.

The old woman who waited on us was more interested in her newspaper than in working.  However, my sesame chicken was excellent, very hot and spicy hot as well, so I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend that, but I would warn against the tea (which turned out to be goji berry tea.)

 

I did notice that most people were drinking Pepsi.  A little fact – I never saw Coke served the whole time we were in San Francisco.

 

 

From almost everywhere in the city you can see the Transamerica Pyramid and in this neighborhood  it towers over everything.

 

Along Columbus Avenue Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s City Lights Bookstore sits next to THE hangout for the Beat Generation poets,

 

 

Vesuvio, separated by Jack Kerouac Alley which has murals on both sides.  Vesuvio is covered in brightly colored paintings while City Lights is rather plain.

 

But in the windows on the second floor of the bookstore are signs that read – Open Door – Open Book – Open Mind – Open Heart.  Very beat, very cool.

On the corner is a building covered with murals from top to bottom, depicting the history of the area and several jazz greats. Above us, is a sculpture called The Language of the Birds, open books strung on wires to look like birds flying away from shouting children.  Odd but interesting.

North Beach has lots of shops and restaurants, a fun place to walk around.  It’s an old neighborhood.  Back when the Italians and the Irish ran the city, the Italians ran the delicatessens and the Irish cops ate the sandwiches.  Molinari’s, the oldest deli west of the Rockies, was across the street but we weren’t hungry.  This is definitely on the list the next time we are in the neighborhood for lunch.  Joe DiMaggio specified in his will that his funeral reception should be catered by Molinari’s.  That’s loyalty.   And then there was Stella’s, an Italian bakery that’s been there forever.  They had mostly the little Italian cookies and nothing caught our eye, so we continued on hoping for gelato at one of the stalls in the Ferry Building.

Through the doorway of the Restaurante Calzone, you can see the wide hanging shelf of the back bar filled with a huge variety of liquor in glass bottles, backlit and glowing.

On the corner an interesting entrance caught my eye and it turned out to be a porziuncola, a small chapel inside a larger building. The little painted porziuncola is a miniature church with pews along the sides, a beautiful mosaic floor and a lovely painted fresco over the altar.

 

 

The people who were there to answer questions told us not to miss the St. Francis of Assissi church next door.  It was pretty with an unusual arched and columned apse with frescoes behind the altar.

 

 

 

The Stinking Rose is another famous restaurant, specializing in garlic. Through the window you can see hundreds of Chianti bottles and strings of corks hanging from the ceiling.

 

 

The large square building down the street was The Saloon, opened as Wagner’s Beer Hall. It survived the earthquake and is the oldest, continually operating bar in the city.

In a strange little dead end alley across from City Lights and Vesuvio I saw a mural which drew my attention.  An odd sign advertised Specs, a crazy bar that’s been there forever and bills itself as a museum as well.  The eccentric owner is a legend himself and the place is full of oddities.  We went in but they weren’t open and told us to come back later.  We got a quick look around, enough to know it was a quirky place that would not be boring.

The bar’s whole name is Spec’s Twelve Adler Museum Café and it has been a speakeasy, union social club, and lesbian bar. It says it has been home to misfits, strippers, poets, longshoremen and merchant marines. This is San Francisco after all.  There used to be a door and steps leading to the strip club upstairs.  Closing it off must have disappointed a lot of customers.   I won’t mention the walrus genitalia by the bar.  Oh gosh, I just did.

Specs himself has a million stories of his adventures and my guess is his customers have just as many about the goings on in the bar.

 

The Church of Scientology has a beautiful entrance on the point of a flatiron building.  Tom Cruise was nowhere in sight.

 

 

 

We headed toward the waterfront and the stalls of the Ferry Building.  Along the sidewalk was a wall of small smooth stones placed end up like the calcada they do in Portugal and the Mediterranean.  Unusual and interesting to see this done in the States and on the side of a building.

 

The great clock tower of the Ferry Building is visible from a long way away.  We crossed the plaza to get to the Embarcadero and Pier 1 and walked the Ferry Building from end to end.

 

 

 

The very high glass ceiling is gorgeous and floods the enormous space with light.  Many of the stalls are interesting with olive oil and vegetables, packages of tea and coffee and, surprisingly, meat.

There was a craft fair going on across the way and one stall had ornaments made of silver beads and wire, advertised as mandala toys.  Some are small for bracelets and hair ties and others are six to eight inches across.  They bend and stretch and form all kinds of pretty designs.  I was going to get a small one just to have an interesting souvenir but Kim liked the bigger ones and since she will eventually end up with it, I got the big one.  On mine the balls linking the loops are decorated with an almost Tahitian design.  The large one is much nicer – and it folds flat for packing!

We caught the cable car up California, ordered a pizza freshly baked at Whole Foods and ate in the café.  They don’t sell Coke or Pepsi there and their cola wasn’t cold but what else can you drink with pizza?  Afterward we bought more of the little tarts as a snack for later.  They are just as good as they looked. Whole Foods has such incredible pastry cases.  It’s an awful decision to know what to pick, but I don’t see how you could go wrong.

I didn’t realize how convenient our cable car line would be. I learned later that the California line is one of the least used of the routes and is not usually as crowded as the Mason & Powel line.  I had to laugh when almost every one of our cable car drivers told people they couldn’t hang off the car, when in all the  pictures of the cable cars, someone is hanging off the side.

 

 

Friday

We went right to the Filmore Bakery for their wonderful Danish pastry with fresh strawberries and blueberries. The  busy little bakery was buzzing with a constant flow of customers.  Great to see for such a good bakery.  They had a plate of cronuts on the display case and are evidently known in the area for them with sometimes a line out the door.  We were lucky, hardly had time to choose from all the goodies.

We walked down a couple of blocks and caught the #22 bus to the Mission District. When we got to Church Street Kim spotted the basilica and we got off.

 

 

 

 

 

The tiny mission stands in the shadow of the basilica.

 

 

The lady who runs the tours in the old mission was kind enough to let me use the restroom.  This gave me a chance to walk through the old cemetery which was charming and almost mystical.

The façade and top of the tower of the Mission High School is covered in the very flamboyant churrigueresque decoration.

 

We walked up and down Valencia and Guerrero but it was early and not much was open or even very interesting, except for a bike rack, covered in brightly colored knitting!

 

 

 

 

 

The women’s building was covered with bright murals on both sides and down the street was a cute little store called Dog Eared Books.

 

Into the residential streets of Fair Oaks and Hill were more Victorians, some mansions and some pretty little family homes.  The murals on San Carlos and Lexington had been painted over and were now a blank slate, walls in waiting.  It was disappointing for us.  Back on Valencia we looked for the stores mentioned in reviews, but one was just a thrift store and the other was closed.   As we continued on we came to Clarion Alley.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The alley lived up to its reputation.  It was filled from end to end with gigantic colorful murals and it was fabulous.

 

 

Brilliant colors and wild imagination.

 

 

Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!   Or was that a cat?

 

 

 

 

Huge canvases turn an ordinary alley into a gallery.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another alley just a few blocks away is making its presence known as well.

 

 

 

Each section was as good as the last or even better, an interesting and exciting walk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We walked past the historic mission again on our way back to catch the #22 bus.

Having wandered the Mission District we still had most of the day left so we decided to try to get to the Palace of Fine Arts.  Using her iPhone Kim figured out what buses to take and where to transfer.  She got us to a stop only a block away from the entrance.  The transit passes are paying their way.

The Palace of Fine Arts is all that remains of the Panama-Pacific Exposition of 1915.

 

The fantastic buildings of the international exhibition were not meant to last and, in fact, the Fine Arts pavilion was partially demolished and would have been lost except for the preservationists.

columns and archways

 

 

views inside and out

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Every angle seems to be covered with some kind of decoration.

 

 

 

 

angels and domes and more elaborate capitals

 

 

 

 

 

Did I mention the urns?

 

 

 

 

 

 

The pink pillars were a surprise.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We wandered through the pavilion, dwarfed by  gigantic pillars and watched over by angels.  It was beautiful, better than I remembered and it was a gorgeous day.

 

We followed the path around the lake.  Birds perch in the trees and scold us.  There is a constant parade of ducks landing on the water or taking off.

It was peaceful and not crowded although there were quite a few people there.   Along the way around the lake, every turn offers a view.

 

Willow branches hang down into the water, creating ripples.  A swan, alone after its mate was killed, paddled across the pond.  A heron perched in a tree and kept an eye on us.

With the whole of the pavilion spread out in front of us, we sat on a bench, enjoying the day while ducks waddled nearby, hoping for lunch.

 

 

 

 

We began walking back, half looking for transportation, but before we knew it we were at the park surrounding Fort Mason which is just over the hill from Ghiradelli Square and the waterfront.  A path led up and around with views over the water to Alcatraz.

 

A large double-masted schooner sailed slowly past, heading toward the bridge.  The way down into the harbor was very steep and I was glad we weren’t walking the other way.  The Balclutha, an enormous 1886 cargo ship with three tall masts was moored with other historic vessels across the water in the maritime museum.   We sat on the warm stone wall while I changed camera batteries.

The Ghiradelli Center straddles the hill on Beach Street with the famous sign high above.  Cars, overhead wires and flea market kiosks made a picture difficult.  Feeling hungry we stopped to read the menu at The Pub BBQ which looked good for both of us.  Kim had three little fish tacos and pretzel bites. I had 3 little pulled pork sliders and French fries.  The food was excellent and the service (Emily) really good.  We were so full we couldn’t even think about dessert.

We had seen a little Golden Gate Bridge in molded chocolate, but we decided to walk down Beach Street first.  There wasn’t much to see, except for the corner bar where Irish Coffee was first made.  I remember visiting there on our  first trip to San Francisco way back when.

 

Tiers of steps lead up into the Ghiradelli mall where most of the shops have something to do with chocolate and the making of it. The round fountain I remembered from old pictures was there but I didn’t recognize anything else.  We stopped at another Lola’s, a shop we had discovered on Columbus Avenue.  It was bigger than the other one but had much the same stuff.  The Ghiradelli shop was jammed with people and stocked from floor to ceiling with…what else?  Bags and boxes and bars of chocolate, just lots more of it.  It was a job slowly shuffling around the store.  The chocolate bridge was easy to find, right by the register, good salesmanship.  We picked up a couple of specialty chocolate bars, very expensive, but also such good quality and added our bridges to the total.

Beyond all the people waiting for the cable car at the Hyde and Beach turnaround, we saw a Starbucks and decided to have frappuccinos, always my favorite, and sit awhile. Within minutes of taking our seats at the counter, the little shop got busy…really busy.  Of course two of the baristas had gone on break just moments before. Seeing how they handled the craziness was really fun.  Business went from just a few people to a crowd of 20 or more in about 2 minutes.  Typical.  Well, it gave us something to watch and they got the job done.

At the top of the hill we started looking for Cost Plus.  I know I keep saying when we were there and it was around 1983, but… when we were there Cost Plus was huge.  The main store was enormous, several stories high with interesting and fun things stacked on round tables and shelves loaded with colorful dishes and folded fabrics.  Glass display cases were filled with jewelry and little objects from all over the world.  Kites and paper lanterns were hanging from the ceiling.  This wonderful emporium was where we got Kim’s first puzzle ring.  At that time Cost Plus was in several buildings on all four corners.  One had all that great Asian furniture that they were famous for.

We finally spotted the sign but what a disappointment.  The store was not even the size of the Cost Plus in Oceanside and had none of the magical aura of the old store.  I asked a clerk if this was really “the” Cost Plus and he said yes.  I tried to explain how big it was years ago but he insisted that this was all there was.

Our California Street cable car was very crowded this time but hanging on is half the fun.  We stopped at Whole Foods for something to take back to the hotel and got two huge portions of strawberry whipped cream cake for later. Kim finally found her hummis.

 

Saturday

We decided to check out the shops along Filmore but since they wouldn’t be open before 10, we would have time to walk a few more streets before having breakfast at the Filmore Bakery. The weather began a little overcast so it was nice to have my trenchcoat.  The coat had worked out really well except that at times it was too warm because the weather had been so beautiful.  However, it was easy to roll up and stuff in my backpack in case I needed it and it took up very little room.

 

We zigzagged our way over to Lafayette Park passing a little church with an oriental tile roof and several Victorians, large and small, old and modern with every color palette you could name.

 

After seeing how steep Octavia Street was, I asked Kim if she really wanted to see the houses I had told her about, The Slack mansion and the Chambers and Queen mansions with the gory legend attached.   She said yes, so we climbed up to Sacramento.

The first of the three we came to was the Queen Mansion, the only surviving house built by Arthur P. Brown and his final project.  He also designed Trinity Episcopal Church, SwedenborgianChurch, and the FerryBuilding.Brown designed the Crocker Mausoleum in the OaklandCemetery and was commissioned by Charles Crocker to design Rose Court, an old person’s home on Pine & Pierce that is now apartments.

The neoclassical façade of the Queen Mansion is set off by the Palladian windows and a columned entrance.  Eighty-two steps lead to the front door. People in those days must have been in pretty good shape, especially the women with their tight corsets and voluminous skirts.  I can only imagine trying to catch my breath wearing a corset and climbing those stairs.

The Queen Anne Chambers Mansion next door has two big fat turrets bordered by delicate designs with Gothic and Tuscan touches. It looks smaller, sandwiched between the tall, lean Slack and Queen mansions.

According to San Francisco legend Chambers lived here with his two nieces who hated each other.  When he died in 1901, they inherited the property but did not want to live together.  The legend says that one of the sisters built the house next door and moved into it, although both neighboring houses were built prior to 1901.  The other sister remained in the Chambers Mansion, but met a grisly and mysterious end. She was found cut almost in half.  Her relatives maintained that she had suffered an accident, but others suspected that she was murdered by an insane family member who had escaped from confinement in the attic.  More recently the property was renovated into two homes which are owned separately.

The third house in the row is the Slack Mansion.  Because it was built on bedrock, it survived the earthquake. Originally a private residence, it once served as a bed and breakfast.

The enormous stone building on Sacramento and Webster is the Health Sciences Library. Many of the buildings in this area have something to do with medicine.

Down the street we came to the Temple Sherith Israel.   I had seen the massive dome many times over the last few days but now I had finally seen the building it belonged to.  We try to be careful not to intrude where we might not be welcomed, but I found out later that besides being beautiful, the building is historical and visitors are allowed.

Finally it was time for breakfast back at the Filmore Bakery and the terrible decision of what to choose. That, however, is the only thing bad about that bakery, because any choice would be the perfect one.  Busy as usual, there still wasn’t a wait and we were able to get one of the tiny tables by the window.  We made breakfast last as long as possible because it was early and some of the shops on Filmore still weren’t open but the bakery is so small we gave up the table to other people.

There were a few interesting shops, with cards and wrapping papers, gifts and clothes, but it didn’t take us long to walk the five blocks. With hours left of our last day we decided to head to Union Square.  Although the shopping is supposed to be great in that area, we were still basically looking for the architecture of the domes, the older streets, like Maiden Lane, and some of the oldest skyscrapers around Market Street.

On our last day we got the very best cable car driver. He was friendly and really seemed to like his job.  Unlike the grumpy gusses and mean schoolteacher types we had had before, he actually spoke to us.  When we told him where we were going, he told us to wait until the next stop at Grant to walk to Union Square.  It was a straight shot unlike the street on the map that I had picked.  He saved us quite a bit of time as well as distance.

I’m not saying his is the perfect job but if you don’t like your job, you shouldn’t be doing it, especially when you’re working with the public. I won’t forget his friendliness.

Fresh is a store located on the corner of Sutter with a two story, semicircular window on the façade and an art deco fan awning over the entrance. More unexpected architecture.

On a pedestrian island in the middle of Market Street is Lotta’s Fountain, a twenty-four foot cast iron sculpture, ornamented with tiny lion heads which were not spewing water.  It is San Francisco’s oldest surviving monument given to the city by Lotta Crabtree, a vaudeville performer from the days of the gold rush, who became the toast of San Francisco.  Her last performance was at the Panama-Pacific Exposition of 1915 on a day honoring her.

Across the street we spotted the sign of the Palace Hotel on the roof of the deceptively plain exterior building and went to check it out. The Palace Hotel, which opened in 1875 with 800 rooms, was the largest hotel in the west and had four elevators called rising rooms.  The Palace was a huge part of society life and notables from all walks of life stayed in the hotel.  King Kalakaua, monarch of the Kingdom of Hawaii, died in the hotel.

Although the hotel survived the earthquake, the fires that raged across the city consumed it. Tenor Enrico Caruso (who had sung the role of Don José in Carmen at the Grand Opera House the night before) was staying in the hotel and was awakened by the quake.  He and all of the other guests escaped, but an even better story was that his valet managed to bring Caruso’s 54 steamer trunks down six flights of stairs as well as finding a horse and cart to carry them to the waterfront where they were able to cross to Oakland and board a train east to New York. Caruso swore never to return to the city. Completely rebuilt from the ground up, the “New” Palace Hotel opened in 1909.  The Grand Court, once used for horses and carriages, became the Garden Court, enclosed by a glass and steel ceiling.  The Palace immediately resumed its role in the life of the city.

 

The Garden Court is magnificent, all glass and glitter with potted palms and sunshine flooding down from the vaulted glass roof.  The tables were set for afternoon tea with white cloths and crystal.  It was a pleasure just to stand there and look at the beautiful room.  Saturday afternoon tea is reservations only and we had run out of time.

Old buildings like the Hobart are dwarfed by the modern skyscrapers but they have so much more personality.  I kept looking for The Call Building, but it is not as easy to find without its dome.  The building was built by Claus Spreckles to house The Call newspaper.  He wanted it to dwarf the Chronicle Building which was the first San Francisco skyscraper, and to be more beautiful.  With its baroque dome and cupolas on all four corners, it was.  Samuel Clemons (Mark Twain) worked for The Call, but was fired. When the building was bought, it was gutted and its exterior completely changed as well as having the gorgeous dome removed.

Surprisingly there are still some mementos of its past. Offices on the top floors have bronze doorknobs initialed with the letters CS and in the basement there are original stone arches. Rosebuds decorate the high ceiling and a storeroom is floored with mosaic tiles.

The two capped towers of the Hunter-Dulin building loom over the Art Deco Crocker Galleria. So many different styles of architecture blend comfortably together in this city.

 

The Crocker Galleria mimics the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II in Milan.  There is an enormous clock over the arched entryway that leads into a wide atrium roofed by a glass vault.  Across the street is the Hallidie Building with metal lace tracery outlining each level.

Many of the buildings are old but have kept some of their decorations, even though they are now drugstores or boutiques. One building had designs carved in stone in the  triangular sections between semicircular windows.  I said to Kim, look at that pretty decoration, and she said, it’s just a  Walgreens.

 

Further down Market Street, I was happy to see the lovely Beaux Arts Humboldt Bank Building, because it has an elaborate dome that reminded me of the one that graced The Call Building which had inspired it.

The Phelan Building is the 2nd flatiron of that name built on the same site to replace the one damaged by the earthquake and fire.  Decorated in Baroque-Renaissance style, the building has a 2-story white marble lobby.

The Armani showroom is in the old Savings Union Bank and Trust Company, a building that looks like a courthouse with huge columns holding up the pediment over the entrance.

Even the streetlights are part of the history. The first Path of Gold light standards were installed on Market Street from the Ferry Building to Seventh Street.  The first Golden Triangle light standards were installed in the area around Union Square.  These were the same lights designed for the Panama-Pacific Exposition.  They had a softer but more powerful illumination and were the most advanced street lighting known in the United States.  The base of the standard was designed with western subjects and the lights were highly ornamental faux torches with amber shades.

 

Towering over the tops of the buildings on Market Street is the Marriott Marquis called the Jukebox because of its Art Deco design. While taking a photograph of an old street light, I noticed the rounded corner tower of the old Palomar Hotel with its green patina and terra cotta decoration. Cherubs hover over the arched entrance of the James Bong Building. San Francisco is loaded with surprising details.

Seen from the atrium below, the concentric circles of steel and glass of the Nordstrom dome are echoed in the spiral of the escalators.

 

 

The Westfield dome, although beautifully designed with panels of glass was dark. I know it  can be lit at times, even with dancing lights, but the dome was rather dark that day.

 

 

The corner entrance of Neiman Marcus brought us into a palatial hall of marble pillars and tiered balconies with the glorious painted glass and golden dome above it all.

 

The City of Paris was a store that began when a merchant brought a ship loaded with merchandise to San Francisco.  The entire cargo sold out before it could be unloaded onto the docks.  The merchant continued to bring his cargos and built his store, calling it The City of Paris.  The store is still remembered with a small plaque by the door and the painting of his merchant ship in the medallion in the dome.

On our way back we passed the Goorin Bros. hat shop established in 1895.  The haberdashery has an elegant awning over windows filled with their merchandise.

In front of Old St. Mary’s Church we caught the cable car to the Fairmont.  Afternoon tea is by appointment only, so Kim bought us a Mother’s Day lunch with drinks.  It was busy but the easy chairs were comfortable, the food was tasty and we talked and laughed and had a great time.

We walked around the park, looking at the old buildings, the Brocklebank and the lovely little house crowded by two skyscrapers that we had seen from the tower of Grace Cathedral.  The Chambord, one of the first luxury apartment buildings, is an undulating art deco masterpiece, dazzling white in the sun with balconies on all the floors.

 

 

Back at Huntington Park we went to see the playful fountain with the Dancing Sprites.  It was given by Mrs. Flood and placed on the corner near the Flood Mansion.

 

 

 

The sun felt good on this cool and breezy day. We sat by the turtle fountain (without the turtles), dog and people watching.  A young couple was sunning with their cute little dogs and we got to talking.  They asked what we had seen and then said not to miss Bob’s Donuts.  We laughed and told them we had gone there but didn’t think it was special.  They said you had to go around midnight.  Maybe after the bars close.

Time was getting short so we waited for the cable car, rode down California and walked to the hotel.   We picked up  our luggage and almost immediately the shuttle for the airport showed up.  The van raced up and down the streets and we arrived at the airport in plenty of time.

All of the airports seem to be displaying large works of art.   SFO had billowing nets of red cord hanging from the tall ceiling.  Very interesting.

We boarded on time and took off a little early. The shuttle dropped us at the car.  As both of our refrigerators were empty we stopped at Whole Foods to get something for supper, then I dropped Kim off. We just can’t get away from Whole Foods, but it is a really great place for all kinds of goodies.

 

San Francisco turned out to be so much more than I was expecting, a truly beautiful and interesting city.   There’s something about the lightness of the architecture and the joie de vivre of the design that makes me think of Paris.  There’s a sense of age without being really old, a sense of history that will not be denied.   The city hums.

What’s funny is the architectural mix and how it all somehow fits together.  Modern buildings stand side by side with remnants that follow the years back in history.  On one corner is a tall building with art deco balconies and an entrance shaded by a fan awning with amber glass.  Just down the street is a tiny corner store with a baby turret.   An apartment building with decoration banding the top has a baroque entrance that would have graced a castle in Spain.  Even the Aztec and Mayans seem to have gotten in on the action.

 

We decided that the best parts of the old hotels were: the façade and front entrance of the Mark Hopkins, the lobby of the Fairmont, and the Garden Court of the Palace where we will one day have afternoon tea.

The Stanford Court hotel was built on such a steep hill that the half circle entrance looks like it leads underground.  Maybe that is why it didn’t occur to me to check out the lobby, which has paintings and a large colored glass dome. We will have to check it out another time to see if it makes the list.

 

Union Square was another area that had a lot to offer,  restaurants and shopping and lots of history in the buildings along Market Street.

 

The Majestic turned out to be a great location close to the end of the California Cable Car line which made much of the city easily accessible. Whole Foods was only blocks away with a huge variety of drinks and prepared foods, bakery goods and groceries.  It was our go to place whether leaving for the day or coming back.

A few blocks away on Sutter were several little pubs and restaurants. We tried Sliders Diner.  The food was very good and the service friendly.

 

American Airporter shuttle was recommended by The Majestic. The round trip bought on line was a good price and they were prompt and courteous.

 

Seeing the houses of San Francisco makes the  average house in my neighborhood seem so plain and uninspired.  Several years ago one house a couple streets away got my attention when they painted it using 3 colors for the trim, light and dark grey with a stripe of coral.  No doubt it was expensive because it was not done again.  But what a difference that little streak of color made.  Houses don’t need  to be Victorian to be beautiful and interesting, but they need  to be more than a box on a box with a garage.

I miss the wrap-around porches, the turned railings, the delicate traceries glinting with gold and the molded ornamentation. I love the turrets, like witches caps straight from a fairy tale castle.  The colors are right out of an artist’s imagination, bold and brilliant or delicately pastel.  Windows have shape and presence, color and design, that balances the face, letting light in while hiding the mystery behind.   Woodwork dances around the edges – so many edges, steep rooflines and peeked window frames sit on the vertical lines of baluster and column, meeting the horizontal steps that begin the journey.

Some neighborhoods are like little towns while ten blocks away a city bustles with the business of business from shopping to finance. But even here the old is cherished, standing side by side with the new.  Tiny skyscrapers share space with the modern giants while at street level mom and pop stores and neighborhood cafes line the sidewalks.  Pastry shops and delicatessens have generational histories.  Pubs have walls lined with decades of memories.

As much as I had always wanted to return to San Francisco, I did not realize how much it would affect me.  Maybe it was the time of year with pastel houses flanked by flowering cherry trees and blossoms cascading over stone walls and spilling through iron fences. San Francisco was created out of catastrophe, forever captured in another time, with a living past and a vibrant present. I can’t wait to go again.

 

 

Movies to watch after San Francisco

Vertigo

Pal Joey

D.O.A. the old one in black and white

Bullitt

The House on Telegraph Hill

San Francisco with Clark Gable and Jeanette MacDonald