Have you ever heard the saying "The coldest winter I ever spent was summer in San Francisco"? It is widely attributed to Mark Twain, but according to Snopes, he never said it or wrote it. Whomever did say it, had good reason for doing so! San Francisco in July and August is often very foggy and very, very, chilly. That was true 30 years ago this month when Glenn and I were there on our honeymoon and, it was true this past weekend, when I made a quick trip to The City with my dear friend Betsy for a wedding shower for her soon-to-be-daughter-in-law.
We flew up from San Diego on Friday night and after a leisurely Bart trip from the airport, headed for the famous Fisherman's Wharf restaurant Scomas. Not the trendiest restaurant, of course, but a real nice, San Fransisco tradition.
I guess bibs are a tradition, too -- at least when one orders crab in the shell.
Earlier in the evening, when we landed in SFO, the sun was shining and it was comfortably cool. But, by the time we finished dinner, I found myself wishing I had packed something more substantial than a lightweight cotton, 3/4-sleeve sweater! Even though I knew better, I hadn't come prepared for the winter August in San Francisco can often be! Betsy was a little better prepared with a jeans jacket she threw into her bag at the last minute, but we both were happy for the warm-up that came from a couple of these:
Irish Coffee at The Buena Vista where the drink was born! (Bless their hearts, some of the waitstaff looked like they might have been on the job back in 1952!)
The next morning, before it was time to head to the bridal shower, we shivered our way around the Fisherman's Wharf area for breakfast and a little sight-seeing.
Then we took a quick street car ride out to the market at the Ferry Building.
Before we knew it, it was time to head for the St. Francis Yacht Club for the shower. Several times that afternoon I wished I had felt comfortable pulling out my cell phone to take photos -- not of the bride-to-be, although she was lovely, and not of the many wonderful gifts she received but, rather of the view just beyond the yacht club windows: the Golden Gate bridge peeking in and out of the fog, pelicans diving for their lunch (and, just like Olympic divers, making very little splash!) the sun glinting off the water, and lots of sailboats and parasailers.
Later that evening, we retrieved our bags from the hotel and after a harrowing ride through (UP and DOWN) the streets of San Fransisco in the back seat of a Towne Car, arrived at the airport and a flight that was delayed by a little more than an hour -- the only glitch in an otherwise fun little get away.
Yesterday morning, when I stepped outside into a sultry (for San Diego) 75-degree morning, I found myself thinking wistfully of the lovely winter-in-August chill of the previous morning!
Next time I visit San Francisco, no matter what the calendar says, I'll be going prepared for winter!