Fisherman’s Wharf
We spent a whirlwind weekend in San Francisco to photograph some amazing homes for a landscaping design company (photos of that coming later!). The last time I visited this city, I was about 14 years old and I always wanted to go back but somehow just haven’t found the chance until now. It’s a bit of sensory overload at first and while walking around after arriving I whispered to John “there’s so much to photograph that I can’t take a photo.” Sometimes I just need to soak in a place before taking out my camera. I need to let the feeling of it wash over me until I find its groove.
And find it I did! John has visited San Francisco a couple times this past year and his one wish for me on this trip was to rent bikes and cycle to the Golden Gate Bridge. I knew it was a good idea, probably the best one, but after a day of traveling and finally arriving to our hotel room late in the afternoon (and that bed felt sooo good) it was hard to drag myself out. John has a way of knowing what’s best in these moments though. Much like when it’s a bazillion degrees in the AZ desert and he wants to take the wave runners out on the river. It’s an awful lot of work getting everything together in the heat but once out on the water… well I end up with the biggest smile and I’ve never once regretted it. This bike trip was exactly the same. We cycled from the Fisherman’s Wharf right over the bridge. It was quite windy and cold for my thin desert blood but it was also invigorating. The fog had already started to roll in so everything had a bit of a gloomy feel with these magnificent rays of sunshine pouring through now and again. It was stunning. I have vowed that for every trip we take to San Francisco from now on (and there will be more), we will rent some bikes and go explore.
After a couple hours cycling we were completely famished and ready to be out of the wind. We met up with my cousin and she took us to Chinatown at my request. The colors! The lanterns! The food! Oh goodness the food. It was some of the best Chinese food I’ve had in the oddest little basement restaurant. Somehow we ended up with a waitress that seemed rather disappointed with our food choices and actually narrowed her eyes at us when we asked for water. I promise we were the best of customers and we couldn’t figure out the scathing glances but regardless of that we had a great time and yummy food.
That night was the last of my photos for pleasure since Saturday was a really long day of shooting but we managed to meet up with friends for drinks and brunch again the next day and still make it home to AZ before dark on Sunday evening. I would have preferred a bit longer, but I suppose this has left me with a thirst that needs quenched by the city of San Francisco.
