We got up and hit a bagel place on Chestnut before walking over to the Marina and up to the Bridge. Crossing the Golden Gate, we saw dolphins swimming by the piers but were more enthralled by the equipment set up waiting for the paint crews. The Bridge is constantly getting touch-ups as the paint protects it from the salty sea air and thus, rusting and corrosion. The color, International Orange, was selected specifically for its ability to tie into the landscapes warm tones while still being visible enough and distinct from sky and sea for passing ships. Nerds that we are, we had to get a sample but we couldn’t just chip away at the bridge. Aside from the whole misdemeanor scenario, it’s just against the preservationist’s nature. We were therefore overjoyed to come across a paint splattered and peeling piece of plywood where we were able to pull up three inches of International Orange. This sample will travel with us snug in a red bag between two pages of a notebook deep inside my pack until the day when we can set it in resin with a proper label. Just like we were taught in paint analysis. The Golden Gate Bridge’s official website has the exact CMYK content information for those wanting to recreate the color in their own homes.
From the Bridge, we went in search of a Vietnamese sandwich shop south of Golden Gate Park which, for those of you who have never been to San Francisco, is nowhere near the actual Golden Gate Bridge. En route we saw the famous Filmore Auditorium which is honestly not much to see. On a previous trip, a friend and I must have driven past it seven times trying to find it to no avail. We also passed Alamo Park and saw the Sevn Sisters, a series of painted lady Victorians with a stunning view of the city as backdrop. The Vietnamese was out of this world (Sandy’s on 9th Ave between Irving and Judah) and the red bean and coconut milk drink was delicious and full of proteins and electrolytes. Just what we needed after hiking 10 miles throughout the city. It was a boost, and we were soon on a cable car heading to The famous/infamous Castro District. Walking down the streets we saw displays of children’s clothing wedged in between sex shops displaying videos with graphic imagery. We’re talking full on in flagrante delicto photos. Of all the possible shops we could have stepped into that define the Castro District, we chose Whatever. Whatever being a comic book store. Before leaving the Castro and heading back to Cow Hollow, we stopped in for a drink or two (or in Kae’s case, 6) at one of those cleverly named double entendre bars, The Edge, The Pendulum, Moby Dick. This particular bar, Badlands, was serving up pear vodka with ginger for $2.50 a pop, not bad for San Francisco, a steal for two Savannahians and tasty to boot.