Our home in San Francisco for the next 3 nights is a wonderful establishment called The Red Victorian B&B. Not so much a guesthouse as a shrine to the City’s golden age of hippydom in the ‘60’s. The proprietor, Sami Sunchild (no, really, that’s her name) still thinks it’s ok to wear Tye Dye smocks, dab patchouli oil behind her ear and wear flowers in her hair. But then she is 82 years old, so we’ll forgive her.
It’s a lovely place to stay. Bags of character and about a quarter the price of one the swankier downtown hotels.
Considering we didn’t drag ourselves out of our jet-lagged coma until lunchtime, we actually managed to cram quite a bit in today.
We hired some bikes to cycle across the Golden Gate bridge. Or at least I think that’s what we did. The bridge was wrapped in thick mist, and at no point did we manage to see the tops of the two supporting towers. A good laugh though, especially watching Erin trying to contend with a couple of San Francisco’s steeper hills. She couldn’t get her head around the concept of using a low gear to make life easier. It’s funny, because normally she’s quite a bright girl.
Later, we went for drinks at the lounge at the top of the Mark Hotel (cheers for the recommendation Steve). A fabulous place decked out in stylish Art Deco that ‘s been serving cocktails to the hip and happening crowd since the 1930’s.
God knows how they let us four in.
No comments:
Post a Comment