Return Home.

One final day of travel and then it's home again. The morning finds me up early, piling the last pieces of clothing into my pack, my toothbrush and socks. Lesley and I enjoy a long chat over bowls of cantaloup and chocolate chip buns, and finish up last night's dishes. Can't head back home and leave a pile of dishes in the kitchen, now can I? Then it's off, Lesley and James and Abbott and I, all in the car together, heading towards the airport. Then it's really goodbye, hugs and hugs, and I'm already missing them as I head into the terminal at the San Jose airport. And they drive away.

I like San Jose. It's quiet - I fly through check-in AND security in no more that 10 minutes. Then I wander the hallways of the terminal, browsing through the duty-free shops, turning my nose up at the perfumes, looking for all the flavours of M&M's. I find a small square of astro-turf with one lonely hydrant - a sad attempt at a dog relief station. I grab a snack before boarding, a bagel piled with egg, avocado, bacon and tomato, since I can't seem to get enough of the green stuff while still in California. Then it's on the plane, and into my seat, and into the air, heading out to Minneapolis. I watch the Crimes of Grindelwald, and barely reach the credits when we touch down - it was a good flight.

In MSP, I walk the length of the airport and back again, and still have 3 hours to waste. I decide to try a Smashburger, and find a pseudo-cinema with long bench seats, playing a series of short film made by local artists or about local stories. Two hours pass by so fast, and the films are really good, and my burger is tasty, and I am happy. Finally, it's time to board: onto the plane, and into my seat, and into the air, heading out of Minneapolis and home again. Montreal. Where Mario's smiling face will be there to greet me when I land, and I'll be able to tell him all of the stories. Travel is nice, but it's always nice to come home again.

Until next time.

Relaxing at Fort Funston

It's Saturday in Mountainview, and though I have been going non-stop all week, getting as much as I could out of my time in San Francisco, I have to say that a quiet day is a mighty welcome thing at this point. And that's exactly what Lesley and James have in mind for today too - after all, it is their Saturday, and they have both been working hard all week, so Saturday is relax day. I agree.

A slow out of bed, a cup of coffee, and we are all gathered around the table, listening to a radio podcast. Lesley makes her special avocado toast, fried egg and a splash of tangy tomatillo salsa, and there are nothing left but crumbs on my plate. Abbott gets antsy. We all climb into the car, planning to spend the day on the beach at Fort Funston. The sun lazily pokes its head out from behind the clouds, and the air warms.

We stop en route at Trader Joe's - I have never been. Lesley tours me around the store, and we select snacks for the day. Some spicy-sweet pecans, blocks of cheese, a basket of figs find their way into our basket. A bottle of Pinot that I brought from Napa will pair well with it all.

We cruise along the highway, heading north and west, heading towards the coast. The mountains roll by, grasses brown from drought, soft camel humps sailing by my window. Lesley plays music, James skips through the songs he doesn't like. Abbott gets excited when we near the Fort, knowing what is to come. We all climb out of the car, sort the picnic, grab blankets and glasses, forget the sunscreen. We head towards the cliff, sliding down along sand-covered stairs, making stops for all the photos. The sky is blue, the clouds light and streaky, the cliffs a complimentary shade of red-brown - the photos are perfection. We take lots, Lesley and I. James and Abbott pull away up ahead.

Down on the beach, people and dogs and more people and more dogs walk up and down the coast. Fort Funston is one big off-leash dog park, and it shows. Dogs are happy, their humans are happy, and the sun shines down on it all. Abbott is happy, and chases after a red frisbee. Halfway down the beach, Lesley rolls out a red blanket. We stop and we picnic, and we soak up the sun. Abbott drinks water from a wine glass. We should have brought him a bowl.

Waves crash into the beach and dogs crash into the waves, chasing after balls. The wind is strong, blowing in from the ocean - overhead, birds and paragliders alike float on the breeze, dipping and sailing back into the coast. We wave. We gather up our picnic and continue along the beach. James tosses the frisbee and Abbott runs. Lesley tosses the frisbee and Abbott runs. Abbott drops the frisbee in the water, and the waves drag it under - Lesley runs to catch it. I dip my toes in the ocean and it's cold. Now we both have wet feet. Lesley saves the frisbee.

Further down, we find the cliff trail and begin the climb. Sand slips beneath our feet, making the climb longer. We pause to take more photos, and to rest our legs(all those stairs yesterday did a number on me!), and succeed in making it to the top. Another brief walk along the cliff, through the tunnel of Battery Davis, and back to the parking. Sun-kissed skin, wind-whipped hair and picnic-filled bellied and we are happy people. And Abbott. Time to head back.

My last evening in Mountainview, my last evening with Lesley and James, and "midnight" pizza has become our tradition. A brief market stop nets me a bag full of deliciousness, eggplant and tomatoes that taste of the sun, sauce and basil and cheese. I whip up a simple dough, grill veggies, Lesley grates cheese. Abbott watches. I top one with tomato, one with herbs and cheese. The eggplant gets a dose of garlic and chilies, and they all go in the oven. With a bottle of wine, tomatoes and cantaloup and prosciutto, it is simple and beautiful and delicious, and I will always make midnight pizza for Lesley and James, because I can't do enough to thank them for their house, and their welcome, and their company, and their generosity, and, and, and...I would make them all the midnight pizza, always.

Now I pack my bags, dirty clothes and balled up socks, bottle of wines and papers and pamphlets galore. It all fits, with room to spare. I check in for my flight. I take a long, hot shower and climb into to coziest bed this side of the country. This has been a wonderful, if much too brief, stay, and I'm sorry it's already come to an end.

Stair-hiking, travel & AMAZING FOOD!!!

Another day, another hike - like I promised, I did return out to Forest Hill to finish the rest of my exploration of the Crosstown Trail. But first, packing, since I am checking out of the hostel after my week's stay here. Like in the past, the hostel was a clean, comfortable place to rest my head, the breakfast was good and filling, the activities(city walk, wine and cheese night)fun and great for meeting and chatting with people. My bunk was soft, the water in the showers always hot, and the staff super helpful and always smiling. I would highly recommend anyone traveling solo to the city to check this place out, and you'll likely leave with new friends. It's a great place to stay. So I checked my bags, grabbed my hiking pack, made some PB & J for the road, and set out for my adventure.
I head out to Forest Hill, this time heading up past the station, through a park filled with sprinkler, dodging between the water like I am in a Super Mario Bros. video game. A park worker laughs at me, exclaiming "Tomb Raider!" as I run past. From here, I begin steadily climbing, both on roadways, and stairways. Compared to yesterday's hike, during which I hopped from green space to green space, today I am full city exploration mode, walking more in residential areas, on concrete and asphalt instead. It is still fun, and still very challenging, but not the "green" hike I had expected. Also, the fog today seems denser, drenching the trees in moisture, causing them to rain down on me, but only just a little. With the quiet I find in these neighborhoods, morning on a Friday, it makes for a surreal, almost spooky walk. I like it.

I climb stairs, first the dull but curvy Pacheco stairway into the fog, then the steep Moraga stairs of Grandview Park to one of the most beautiful 360-degree views of the city - covered completely in fog. I can't even see down to the beginning of the stairs. I still take a moment at the top to snack, and hope for a glimmer of blue sky...but not luck, so I venture one. On the other side of Grandview I encountered the colourful mosaics of the 16th Avenue tiled steps, a fantastic rainbow of sun, moon, water and all the creatures below, trailing down the risers of the stairs I descend. Next, I happen upon the Hidden Garden steps, another tiled wonder by the same artists, and just as beautiful, surrounded by their lush gardens of succulents. The hidden beauty in this city continues to amaze me.

Sadly, this ends my trek, and I find myself in a dark, dreary neighborhood, windy, chilly, and much too early to even think of heading back just yet. Ahead of me lies a giant breath of fresh air - the Golden Gate Park. Much like New York City's Central Park, this place boast trails and museums, and gardens galore, plenty of place to while away the hours. I dive in head first, and stroll. I pass lakes full of ducks, and groves teeming with perky little squirrels, and find myself stopping in front of the Japanese Tea Garden, the draw too strong for me to resist. I enter.

The garden itself is beautiful, and very true to Japanese technique. There are water gardens, well groomed trees, Japanese maples(!) and bamboo, a 5-tiered pagoda and central tea room, stepping stones and waterfalls and koi fish...but there are too many people here to truly appreciate the true tranquility a Japanese garden is suppose to instill. There is no room for quiet contemplation. I move on.

Enter here a long commute, from the park to the hostel, to Powell street station and the BART, from the airport to Millbrae, and from the Caltrain to Mountainview and Lesley's smiling face - it was a long 3 hours and that was EXACTLY what I need to greet me at the end of it.

Settled in at Lesley & James' fantastic and quirky split-level sanctuary, making my re-acquaintance with floofy Abbott, I feel relaxed and happy. This evening's event - and I call it that because it really felt so grandiose that I can think of calling it nothing else - was dinner at Bird Dog. This is the kind of place where they ask what kind of WATER you want to start the evening, where the wine list is 10 times longer than the food menu, but with good reason - the food is AMAZING. Everything is plates to perfection, combining so many different flavours that I don't know HOW they thought to pair them all together, but that work so PERFECTLY together. Each dish is a piece of art, and each is tastier than the next. Our favorite, by far, was the yeasted waffle, with uni(sea urchin) cream cheese, bone marrow and trout roe, crisp and sweet as maple syrup, and when smeared with all the topping, tasting almost like it should be listed as a dessert.

When it came to mains, however, things got even better. Here you order a dish, and sides to go with the dish, so out came plates of carrots with chai flavours, creme fraiche and black tea crumble, and a bowl loaded with little potatoes, with fudgey yolk and brown butter sabayon, which was rich and creamy and oh-so-delicious, we just couldn't get enough of them. And then there was a plate of roast duck, with celery root, grilled onion and blackberries, served in a bowl with smoking greenery(quite the feast for the senses), crispy skin and sweetness that reminded me of something from a chinese restaurant. Finally, one singular, beautiful piece of Japanese Wagyu, smooth and buttery, each piece melt-in-your-mouth delightful, especially with dabs of smoked mushroom and seaweed butter. There was lots of sighing and happy faces and not a lot of talking of dinner, we were so blown away by the tastiness of the meal. Needless to say, after a very brief stroll in Palo Alto, we headed home, bellies full and hearts happy.

Hiking and Hamilton

This June saw the official opening of the Crosstown trail system in San Francisco, an attempt to create one fluid track running diagonally east to west, from AT&T Park to Land's End. This trail uses already-existing parks and hiking trails, and connects them with a series of green spaces, or sometimes just sidewalks and stairways. Separated into 5 sections, it runs for a solidd 16 miles, and can be as strenuous as any mountain-trekking, in my experience. So, being the hiker-around-the-word that I am, I decided to give it a go. Not the whole thing, mind you - I selected 2 sections of particular interest, the first running through a gorge (!), and the second climbing gorgeous tile stairs that I had wanted to see anyway, so this was opportunity. Let's go!

Lucky for me, the sections of the hike are also split up by access to public transport, which made getting to the very middle of the city super easy - I walked down my favorite people-lined streets to Civic Centre, and rode the BART out to Glen Park, the location of the that fantastic city-centre gorge I mentioned. I pulled out my printed map and cue sheet to follow, and I set out discovering another new corner of the city.

It wasn't long before I entered the Glen Canyon Park. A community park, it has a rec centre, tennis courts, baseball diamonds and a small daycare, all concentrated near the street access. I laughed as mothers walked their children in for the morning, one exclaiming joyfully, "I'VE GOT MY BACKPACK!". Past all of this, the trails began to fan out, varying levels of difficulty, all running the length of the park. I began on the large gravel tract that followed the base of the canyon, alongside the excited kids. Soon, a stairway climbed up the side of the valley, following the "coyote run", and since I wanted more challenge, I began to climb. The climb was steep, but not horribly so, and I found myself going higher and higher, getting better and better views of this gorge I was in. Rocky, but full of trees, so the undergrowth further down was dense, making a lush carpet, and muting any footfalls. Birds flitted about, darting in and out of brush at higher levels, and I'm sure there were rodents in the higher grasses - I could hear little noises that likely drew the attention of those birds of prey circling overhead...

I passed several people while cruising along the Glen Canyon trails, most walking their dogs, some just walking themselves - I assume most live nearby, and are taking full advantage of such a beautiful park in their backyard. I know I would! And I was never out of sight of the neighboring communities, I could always see a house or a roadway nearby, and some of those houses cantilevered spectacularly over the gorge trails! I exited to the north of the park, on the corner of a busy roadway, next to a high school - and the magic was gone, I was back in the city again.

Next, my cue sheets led me up some rather steep and winding streets, up to Twin Peaks, and my access into the Laguna Honda Community Trail System. Similar to the Crosstown Trail, Laguna Honda is a series of volunteer-kept trails that run from the steep peak of Twin Peaks, all the way down into the valley surrounding a nearby hospital, all using forgot green spaces, forest and fields that fills empty gaps between buildings. But it is a large area, and you can easily lose yourself to the woods in there. Of course, the height I was at offered amazing views of the city, and the fog, which was being particularly stubborn today and not letting go of the hills and heading back into the bay. Boo. So much for the views, at least I had the forests.

Now descending, I weaved my way through the Troop 88 trails past the old water towers, following tight switchbacks down to the hospital grounds. I sat on a bench among daisies for a while, admiring the garden and farm built in the center of the hospital buildings, like for their use. I climbed up and down around the large parking lots, still always in the forest. At one point, I passed what I believe was the old hospital dump, where piles of old metal - trash cans, tin cans, bed pans - and porcelain wares and glass bottles, were sorted and dumped next to the trail, perhaps an intensive clean-up meant to be finished at another time...The trail got more dense, trees curving into dark tunnels, then giving way to wide fields full of tall grasses. Here again, the wildlife played and hid, and I was quiet as a mouse walking so I could catch them before they ran away.

The trail finally spit me out next to the Forest Hill MUNI station, the end of this section and beginning of the next one. Here, I had a serious decision to make: I had always planned on completing the 2 sections in one go, but I had walked A LOT in the city yesterday, and my feet, now resting on a bench, were telling me it was time to quit. So I took a moment, snacked a little, massaged my aching limbs, adjusted my socks. In the end, my feet told me that I had done enough for today, and that I needed to rest. After all, I still had seven blocks to climb just to get back to the hostel! So I conceded defeat for today, but vowed I would return tomorrow to complete the second half of my walk.





Insert here an afternoon of Youtube videos and PB & J sandwiches, and a good amount of much-needed relaxation.

This evening found me rejoining Lesley on the Embarcadero, first at Hog Island Oyster Co. for - what else - oysters, then down to the Exploratorium for their After Dark Event, an Adults-only evening. Take one crazy museum, filled with entertaining hands-on exhibits, add a cool retro-style DJ, a couple of bars, and NO KIDS, and you get a very interesting event. Drink in hand(because why not?), Lesley and I wanted from exhibit to exhibit, playing with all the things, and having a grand old time. We danced in front of white screens, our shadows becoming cyan and magenta and yellow at the same time, or turning into 4-way videos right out of Austin Powers. We drew art using a giant pendulum board, creating shapes from never-ending lines, like a drunk Spirograph machine. We answered the red phone, gave someone the code to their safe, and found out that WE were the treasure waiting within! It was all so much fun, and we laughed and smiled and I would tell anyone coming to SF to attend this event, because it is an awesome way to enjoy the museum. Unless you are under 21. Sorry.

Rediscovering San Francisco

I rediscovered San Francisco today, and I didn't even plan on it happening! I had planned on walking around the city anyway - revisit old haunts, rediscover old neighborhoods - get lost a little and then fin myself again. I can walk around without a map and still know where I'm going, which Mario will you is quite the feat as normally, even WITH a map in hand, I go left when I should be turning right. Anyway, I decided to sign up for the hostel's free walking tour, and see what new information it might add to my wealth of knowledge of the neighborhood. Turns out, the rotation of international staff here does not permit for anyone to garner the knowledge required to give one of these tours, so now the hostel outsources to Free Tour SF, a company run by knowledgeable locals. Our small group of 8 is led down the road to Union Square, where Filip, our guide with a bright orange flag, is waiting, surrounded by about 20 other people. Good crowd today.

As per most cookie-cutter SF tours, ours will start from Union Square, leading up through Chinatown an d Little Italy(North Beach), back down through the Financial district, finishing off at the Ferry Building, the gateway to the Embarcadero. Filip's tour is different, though. He's not FROM San Francisco - he grew up in Europe(I want to say Bulgaria but I don't remember), and came to SF with dreams of working in a chocolate factory - Ghirardelli. He spent many summers coming to California, bringing more and more people with him, until finally, he moved here permanently, a friend sponsoring him. But his love of the city caused him to explore it, research it, and discover as much as he possibly could about the place he now called home. His wealth of knowledge of the history of SF, both ancient AND more recent, is amazing, and his knowledge of the neighborhoods, the hidden places that no one else sees, is staggering. And his love for the people is unparalleled - he spoke of the homeless situtation, how people from all over the country were sent here with one-way bus tickets, because of the mild weather, and already-existing homeless community, regardless of support. He spoke of how the whole situation came to be, and how SF should go about beginning to rectify it. He says, in a city which has created 90% of the tech industry in the US, there has to be enough money and enough smart minds to be able to come up with a solution. He was very passionate on this topic, which he called the elephant in the room that nobody wants to talk about, especially in the tourism industry. I appreciated his point of view and willingness to open the discussion with all of us. Back to the tour.

From Union Square we walked through Maiden Lane, once the red light district of SF, during the days of the gold rush. We followed the Barbary Trail into Chinatown, which men followed to the ports to work on the cargo ships, sometimes unwillingly. In Chinatown, Filip talked about the good places to eat, the architecture we should look out for, and how we should do all our souvenir shopping here, where the prices are much lower than, say, Pier 39. Down the street we descended in the Financial District, face-to-face with the Transamerican Pyramid. It's here that Filip told the story of the old port of San Francisco, build up on landfill resulting from the 1906 earthquake and subsequent fire that razed the city. Merchants would anchor ships in the harbour, and by law, would become the owner of whatever land was under that ship. So they began to anchor further out, building long docks that they were also the owner of. People wanting to use the docks would be taxed, bring in money, so the owners would then turn their ships into buildings, hotels and bars and such, to make even more money. When the harbour was filled in, the ships remained, some having been burned as well, but the owners now had actually land rights. The Financial District is built on top of the sunked hulls of these ships, and often are found when new buidings are being built. Incredible.

We wander through a green passageway running between the buildings of the Embarcadero complex, where workers are gathering for lunch. Filip explains how mew construction much provide public access park space to account for 3%(don't quote me on this!)of the office space available. Most buildings have hidden rooftop gardens, or esplanades or elevated promenades, but don't advertise it - but they have to tell you is you ask them! Filip has, having mapped out 65 of so of these POPOS - Privately-owned, publicly-operated spaces. The gap between the Embarcardero buildings, with shaded tables, benches, gardens and water features, not to mention a fantastic view of the Transamerica Pyramid looming right next door, is one of these spaces. This is where Filip bids us goodbye, a good rest of our respective trips and departs. I was glad I followed along til the end.

I grab a lunch at nearby Boudin bakery, famous for their San Francisco sourdough bread, and cross the street to the Ferry Building. On a quiet bench on Pier 1, full of start-up tech companies and devoid of tourists, I enjoy my bread with a bowl of clam chowder, watching the ships travel in and out of the bay with the Bay Bridge acting as a wonderful backdrop. From here, I continued up the Embarcadero, turning in at the Filbert Street stairs, and climbing up Telegraph Hill to Coit Tower. So far I have done this climb on ever trip to SF, but NEVER by the stairs. It's a real hidden little corner of the world in there, and as I make it to the top, I relize that the tower is OPEN, so I go in tosee the murals depicting industrialization. Pretty cool. I head back through town, first to a famous Italian delicatessant for some of their house-cured salami, then back to Chinatown for some of that inexpensive shopping mentioned earlier. I relax for a bit at the hostel - why? Tonight finds me heading to the Orpheum Theatre, for this evening's performance of HAMILTON, and if you know what that is, then you know I had a REALLY GOOD TIME! The show was amazing, the music exciting and engaging , and though it was "partially-obstructed", the view wasn't too bad, either. Oh, and yes, I hung out by the stage door after the show, got to meet some of the cast, and scored a few autographs in my playbill. How's that for a great ending to a day?

Wine, wine, wine

A day outside the city, a day full of sun, a day full of wine - that's what I'll call today. When planning this trip, I wanted to booked a wine tour, but I've been to both Napa and Sonoma before. I've visited a few vineyards before, and they might into that "biggest" category, so most tours offered stops that included one or another of those big vineyards. I kept searching, until I finally found this combo valley wine tour, hitting 3 boutique vineyards I had never even HEARD of! Success - I booked immediately, and now here we are, me waiting on the stoop in the chill of the morning fog, waiting for my pick-up.

This particular tour was a small group tour, so it didn't take long for the group to be collected, on our minibus with enormous picture windows, and we were on our way, out of the hustle and bustle of the city. Our driver/guide, Aaron, chatted as he drove, regaling us with the history of the area, or stories of the neighborhood, or recountings of his personal experience living in the city. He looked like a laid-back bearded version of Mr. Rogers, but sounded exactly like Jeff Goldblum when he spoke over the bus' PA system, and spoke with the catch-phrases of and old hippy. It was hilarious. Our first stop brought us to the gorgeous sight of the Golden Gate Bridge from the far side of the Bay, but 'tis the season for foggy mornings, and this one was no exception. With the exception of the deck and crossing cars, we saw nothing but fog before us, so we crossed our fingers for sunny afternoon skies and continued on. Not 5 minutes further down the road, into Marin County and past the mountains, the fog receded, the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, and the sky turned brilliant blue. It was going to be a beautiful day after all.

Our first vineyard was the cleverly-named Peter Cellars, own and run by a Brit named Peter, who one day made a decision, left the tech industry, studied in Oenology and moved to Sonoma to start his own winery. On his small estate, he grows and picks his own grapes, crushes the fruit, ferments and blends the juices, and elaborated his own wines. He also washes the tanks, bottles the product, and runs the tasting room when someone calls in sick, like today, so we got a very personal experience, though perhaps a little reserved, Peter being the guy behind the scenes and not the personable face of the vineyard. We worked our way through several different Pinot Noirs, a Syrah and a Cabernet Sauvignon, all very dry - Peter explains how his wines often have no residual sugars - and though they were good, nothing blew me away, but the hospitality was good and the hidden location, down a farm road and removed from the highway, make this place a real gem in Sonoma. Next!


Our next stop in the gorgeous expansive Nicholson estate, relatively new to the area, these vines having been put in the ground by the Indian owner. The tasting room and surrounding grounds are marvelous, well laid-out, with several cozy area to sit and enjoy not only the wine, but the accompanying scenery, too. Inside, our tasting guide explains the history of the vineyard as we enjoy our first glass of Chardonnay, continuing the experiencing with a walk outside, between the vines. Here, we taste a second Chardonnay, along with another Pinot Noir, and the grapes they came from, straight from the vine. It's still a few weeks off from the grape harvest, and so the fruit is very sweet and plump, this summer having been a good growing season. We finish up with a final Pinot back in the tasting room, and I decide that, as lovely as it is to sip a wine while walking among the vines, it is not conducive to proper wine-tasting, and the sun is heating up my wine, affecting the flavour. My notes from Nicholson are incomplete.

Lunchtime! Aaron the bus driver drops off the group at Oxbow Market in Napa, where we have a wealth of options to choose from, including wood-oven pizza, sushi, burgers, oysters, salads...oh, and did I mention the Culinary Institute of America right next door?! So much good food, what is an indecisive foodie to do? I pick seafood, in the form of a rustic stew with toasted sourdough bread for soaking up the rich, tomatoey broth. Packed with littleneck clams, mussels, squid and rockfish, and topped with one incredibly tender, head-on shrimp, it was divine. I was happy. I chose NOT to order wine alongside, because, you know, wine tour. I also picked up some fresh green olive oil to bring home, our supply from Spain dwindling. Onwards, because that wine tour is calling.

Last stop for day is at the larger, but no less boutique, Bouchaine cellars. Set at a point in the Napa Valley looking straight down to the San Pablo Bay, we were ushered out into the garden, to a long wooden table under large red parasols, with glasses of rosé(their "vin gris") waiting to welcome us. Here, our tasting guide encouraged us to discover the wines a little differently, attempting to follow our tastes with her proposed wines, continuing our flight in several different directions, depending on the palette. You could tell she know her stuff a little more, and that Bouchaine(part of the Carneros family) had a large offering of wines for us. I proceeded through two more Chardonnays, one oaked and one not, to a Pinot Gris that no one else wanted, though I was eventually brough back to another couple of Pinots Noirs before finishing up with a Late Harvest Chardonnay. I gotta say, I was a little surprised at how one-dimensional all of the tasting had been at the three vineyards we visited, and how I am not particularly fond of Pinot Noir wine. The more you know, I guess! One thing the group did agree on was the beauty of the location, and how we would love to spend the rest of the day in the garden sipping our wines. Sadly, it was not to be, as Aaron began to usher us along, out of Bouchaine and towards the bus ride home.

We did luck out in the end, as we exited the Robin Williams tunnel leading to the Golden Gate Bridge and our crossing back into San Francisco - the grand dame was showing off all her lovely red splendour in the bright blue sky, with the sun shining bright behind. We stopped briefly in the Presidio to take a look, and as everyone walked down the hill to get a closer look, I headed back up the hill to one of the defunct military batteries, climbing onto the roof for the best views. It was a glorious way to cap off a wonderful day, full of sun, full of wine.