We Walked 6.ache Miles Today
We don’t waste any time. Or Advil. After flying across the country, we walked six point ache miles today, the very last of which was an incline so steep we had to choose between a staircase or stretching our calves at high-jump skier angles. I opted for the skier angles; I’ll let you know how that goes in the morning.
Upon arriving to the Scarlet Huntington Hotel, the doorman opened both doors and offered Patrick to carry his bride across the threshold. So, in good-sport fashion, we obliged. I jumped into my husband’s able arms and up the steps he carried me, into the lovely hotel we’ll call home for the next four days. The doormen were so pleased at our acquiescence they clapped and cheered for us. The lady (whom I suspect is or was a man) upgraded us to the Honeymoon Suite, from where I now type. The room is spacious and luxurious, with a separate living and dining area and a bedroom with french doors. We are tickled to have been offered such an indulgence.
We walked down the hill (read: ski slope) from our hotel and a few blocks to Grant Street. That led us into Chinatown. There were so many impressive things to see, namely the multitude of old Asian people traversing the hills with ease. Seeing them hobble up and down the hills of this great city remind me, sadly, of how sedentary Patrick and I are in our daily life. We passed shops selling mostly junk in search of something to eat. We finally settled on a place that looked okay (I didn’t allow myself to look too closely in the corners) and we had lunch. It was fine. Nothing to write home about, even though I just did.
We walked through China town, visited the Chinese Cultural Center (just the outside), saw people mediating in the park and playing mahjong.
We walked into the outskirts of Little Italy and stopped at a cafe to have a glass of white wine and watch the busy street action. We continued on to North Beach and found ourselves in the middle of a quaint residential district, then name of which we know not. We came upon Lombard Street which I was initially convinced was misnamed as the “Most crooked street in the world” until my eyes adjusted and I could actually make out the winding cars slowly making their way down the hill.
We turned right and headed to Fisherman’s Wharf. We tasted sourdough bread from Boudin Bakery and I finally got my coffee I’d been craving all day.
From there we decided to check out Pier 39 because we’d heard it was famous for some reason but couldn’t imagine why. I wondered if we’d even be able to get to the end of the pier without paying a fee, but we decided to walk as far as we could and see. That’s when we heard the loud barking noise before being bowled over with the smell of.. what?
The smell of sea lion. Hundreds of them.
There they were – stinking and barking and napping and flopping. Posing and arguing and swimming. Giant sea lions on display at Pier 39. Patrick and I laughed at ourselves for not knowing and being so pleasantly surprised by these creatures. We spent 20 minutes photographing and filming them before the wind and the smell were assaulting us beyond the pleasure of watching them provided.
We found a gift shop for an aquarium and sought the elusive sea turtle plush Sam requested. We failed in our mission but we both feel the hammerhead shark for Max and the octopus plush for Sam are an acceptable substitution.
We took a cab the two miles back (and up) to our hotel. We found a lovely bottle of champagne with a note from the front desk staff congratulating us on being the coolest newly married couple they’d ever had the chance to host, or something.
It was 5 o’clock which meant to our bodies it was 8 o’clock, so I prepared the champagne. After a valiant attempt by both me and my husband, we managed to break the cork off in the bottle. A quick albeit embarrassing visit from the staff resolved our cork issue and we were sipping lovely bubbles before long.
I took a bath to soothe my aching legs and we lounged about before dinner. We ate at a small Italian restaurant a few blocks (and several thousand feet in elevation) away from our hotel. The most notable thing about the meal was the walk there and back. I still can’t believe we made it up that mountain. This certainly explains why all the women in downtown San Francisco has such incredible asses.
I lie in bed now while my betrothed showers. We’ve had a full first day, not only of steps on the FitBit, and of sights and smells of a new city, but of a love that is so encompassing it fills me up and spills over like the mist that pours out of a bucket of dry ice.
We’re tired and achy but happy and excited. I know we’re both looking forward to snuggling into this big king-sized bed and sleeping deeply next to each other.
Tomorrow hearkens new adventures!