Thursday, May 31, 2007
American Beauty
Mel's for breakfast, then we caught the number forty three – no, not that 43, though we did think about it – to Haight-Ashbury.
Back in the day it was the hippy epicentre of the universe, but that didn't put us off. There were still re-assuring quantities of alternative lifestylers in evidence, which was good.
We browsed shops. Amoeba Records was pretty cool, and I bought a Haight-Ashbury shaky egg (made in Taiwan) from a music shop as a gift for my local Singer's Night Help Group.
We spent ages browsing in The Booksmith, and I thought about buying my own bodyweight in Annie Leibovitz product, remembering just in time that you can buy stuff off the internet now, which saves on suitcase taxes. Sorry, bookshop.
Lunch was in the Red Victorian Peacenik Cafe, then we plodded what seemed like several miles - possibly because it was - back to the hotel.
Here is some interesting detailing, and these are beautifully restored.
At Alomo Square we watched as bus after bus rolled up, people dutifully piled out to have their picture taken in front of The Painted Ladies, then got back in the bus to make room for the next lot.
Pacific Heights was very pleasant in an affluent big house neighbourhood kind of way, though I think I preferred the view back up the hill from down in lowly Cow Hollow.
Dinner was Vietnamese – possibly the best meal of the whole trip – then we returned to Sol's bar for more margaritas and White Russians.
I like the whole American bar thing, with just one guy working the room. It's as much “An Audience With...” as it is going out for a drink. Kids were playing pool, customers were playing cards at the bar for what looked like quite big money, baseball on the telly.
I've had a great idea for a sitcom. It's about a bunch of people who practically live in a bar and are almost like family to each other. It needs to be called something snappy, like “Bottom's Up!” or “Here's Mud In You Eye.” I'm sure I'll think of something.
Our friendly bartender gave us drinks on the house, and we stopped out late and got a bit squiffy. Cheers.
Lunch shot: Campaign For Nuclear Disarmament Banana and Nutella Crepe. Worth the airfare alone.
Back in the day it was the hippy epicentre of the universe, but that didn't put us off. There were still re-assuring quantities of alternative lifestylers in evidence, which was good.
We browsed shops. Amoeba Records was pretty cool, and I bought a Haight-Ashbury shaky egg (made in Taiwan) from a music shop as a gift for my local Singer's Night Help Group.
We spent ages browsing in The Booksmith, and I thought about buying my own bodyweight in Annie Leibovitz product, remembering just in time that you can buy stuff off the internet now, which saves on suitcase taxes. Sorry, bookshop.
Lunch was in the Red Victorian Peacenik Cafe, then we plodded what seemed like several miles - possibly because it was - back to the hotel.
Here is some interesting detailing, and these are beautifully restored.
At Alomo Square we watched as bus after bus rolled up, people dutifully piled out to have their picture taken in front of The Painted Ladies, then got back in the bus to make room for the next lot.
Pacific Heights was very pleasant in an affluent big house neighbourhood kind of way, though I think I preferred the view back up the hill from down in lowly Cow Hollow.
Dinner was Vietnamese – possibly the best meal of the whole trip – then we returned to Sol's bar for more margaritas and White Russians.
I like the whole American bar thing, with just one guy working the room. It's as much “An Audience With...” as it is going out for a drink. Kids were playing pool, customers were playing cards at the bar for what looked like quite big money, baseball on the telly.
I've had a great idea for a sitcom. It's about a bunch of people who practically live in a bar and are almost like family to each other. It needs to be called something snappy, like “Bottom's Up!” or “Here's Mud In You Eye.” I'm sure I'll think of something.
Our friendly bartender gave us drinks on the house, and we stopped out late and got a bit squiffy. Cheers.
Lunch shot: Campaign For Nuclear Disarmament Banana and Nutella Crepe. Worth the airfare alone.

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