San Francisco on a Sunday afternoon never fails to entertain. Intent on riding the cable car to enjoy the magnificent views of the bay, we joined the end of the line in Union Square. Nearby, a young man with a Bible in his hand was preaching from atop a box promising us salvation if we repented. Soon a man in a green Dr. Seuss hat appeared holding a nicely printed sign, "Please give me some pot to get me stoned." Then the passionate preacher began shouting about the tirades of sin to the new guy who had a few choice words of his own.
As the line drifted forward, the scene changed. Young boys were dancing robotically in the street. A talented saxophone played. The street cop even paused to tip the man and commend his performance...but he was really that good. Then a distraught lady approached the street cops asking for help. Her crisis? She couldn't find Macy's.
Finally the cable car arrived, and we sat in the coveted open air seats, as Ron and Kiahra stood, hanging from the bars.
As we clattered up the hill, the driver endured his tourists. At one stop, a lady stepped out of the enclosed cab wanting to ride outside, but immediately the driver informed she had to find a different place to stand.
"But I want to ride outside."
The driver shrugged.
Then she whined, "How do I get there?"
She needed to walk down the steps and around the street car.
His response, "Take the elevator."
A ferrari roared by us illegally. Then the driver pulled over and didn't park close enough to the curb so the cable car driver had to calculate if he had enough room to roll by on the tracks. He did with an inch or two to spare. The nonchalant red ferrari dude was busy trying to be cool and ignore our looming presence inches from his car--though his stupidity was obvious. The trolley driver growled, "Put my car back in the garage where you found it."
At the end of the street, we stepped off the cable car and strolled through the streets towards Fisherman's Wharf and the infamous Pier 39.
As we crossed on busy crosswalk, a woman kept easing her minivan forward into the people. She had a red light. Since she showed no intention of stopping and she was close to nudging my kids, I turned to her, and said, "Excuse me, but you need to yield."
Angrily she threw her hands in the air, but she did stop.
My husband pretended he didn't know me. Nikela informed me I totally made that lady mad. Oh well, evidently I am becoming Californian. Good thing I am going on vacation in a couple weeks.
Soon we were ready to drift from the crowds and headed back up the hill. Nothing like a San Francisco walking workout. At the top of the hill we discovered a beautiful Cathedral in the Little Italy neighborhood.
Italian restaurants and markets lined the streets. Shortly we crossed into Chinatown. Like a sea, the crowds surged forward through the outdoor displays of vegetables and fruits. Skewered meats hung in the windows of the small shops contrasted with windows filled with jade and gold and crystal.
At the bottom of the hill the kids paused for a photo at the official entrance designed for tourists, as is much of Chinatown, but it is a delightful world to explore.
