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San Francisco, Second Verse --
Yes, I haven’t read LJ for days – too busy on the road. So, if I missed anything important, let me know. On another note, here’s part of the report:
It was back to San Francisco once again. The best way to do this is always to stay over Saturday night – it does mean the best price on fares. I wanted my appointment to be on Monday instead of Friday this time. I wanted my doc to have the option of running some special tests that can’t be done Friday – the blood won’t last until Monday. Also, I wanted to examine other options. W had mentioned a desire to see Muir Woods. I knew this was a must-attend event, so I said yes, let’s get a car and do it. He poked around and found out that Winchester House was a reasonable drive, and asked if I’d want to see it.
I’d been in love with Winchester House since I read Michaela Roessner’s (sp?) SF book VANISHING POINT, so I had to see it. This meant Friday for Winchester House, Saturday for Muir Woods, and Sunday for a museum, we hoped. We stayed outside of SF for two nights, and then the third in town at the Hilton O’Farrell.
How much did this economizing save us on housing? $100. In theory, we got Hilton points for it, but I’ll wait and see. I will say this – the Hilton Garden Inn in South San Francisco, CA was great. Decent breakfast (Irish oatmeal and Belgian waffles on the continental side! W had waffles one day, and oatmeal the next.) The hotel had free Internet access, and a small, but hot spa, where I soaked my feet. It wasn’t as flashy as the downtown Hilton, but lovely, friendly people. We brought them back menus for their book.
The hitch to this was that somehow I did something to my foot before going. It was getting steadily worse, so I knew it was going to be a problem during our trip. It was, but that’s later. We left at the crack of dawn, and arrived around 10:30 am. Picked up a small Chevy, can’t remember what now, but it drove well. We went for the full tank option – in SF, you take whatever $$$ cuts you can find. We hit Nawab Indian restaurant in San Mateo on our way south, and had the buffet. We still reached Winchester house in fine time. We toured both the house and the behind the scenes, which was fun – seeing all the clues they had for what was going on in Sarah Winchester’s mind. Poor lady only had one child, who lived a few weeks. Then her husband died 15 years later, leaving her with 20 million, plus whatever her Winchester shares paid per year. Eventually she inherited her M-I-L’s shares, too. Remember this was the late 1800s, early 1900s. One million dollars had the buying power of 55 million, ten years ago or so. She apparently earned $1000 a day, and the house is awesome. If you can build a physical home for a multitude of spirits, this would be the place. She had taste (often misplaced) and little architectural sense, but the house is definitely worth seeing. Her niece didn’t stay in it after her death – it was shown off as a curiosity from the very first.
However, my foot was becoming very painful. As in, I had to turn down a tour of the extended gardens. It was making me walk carefully, almost limping. So we headed back to our room in South San Francisco (a real town, but one that rolled up early in the evening. Lots of pizza and Italian places – a pharmaceutical town.)
Dinner was Ristorante Buon Gusto on Grand Avenue. It was hosted by one of the owners, who was proud of his restaurant, and with good reason. W had Cioppino, a favorite dish of his – this one with no crab. He said it was excellent. I had a veal dish, with prosciutto and a sauce – hold the polenta. For dessert, we resisted the tiramisu (only Oliana’s must pass my lips – and I wasn’t going down for a ladyfinger. Saving myself for Boudin sourdough.) and got the chocolate mousse. It was dark chocolate and very dense. The owner felt it was just wrong to be wine-free, so he brought us small liquor glasses with a wine that was both sweet and dry – a bit like Madeira, but not that. I said what hey and drank it. Don’t think it screwed with the meds.
Saturday we headed for Muir Woods, after a nice breakfast. There’s no charge for heading north across the Golden Gate Bridge – it’s going south that they get you. The weather was glorious. I continue in having the oddest SF luck I know of. We always can see the bridge when I’m there. The fog comes in late, and just brushes the tips of the harbor. We had the clearest weather in something like fifty years my first time there – but Highway 1 had a solid fog bank just off the road. Bizarre.
We should have moved faster, but we only got about 2-3 hours the night before, so sleep was required. We circled several times, trying to find a parking spot. I finally had to go up to SIX nuns,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clouds_looming, before Squat opened a spot up. No wonder the Vatican has a nun shortage.
The redwoods are still awesome. W misunderstood – he hadn’t realized that there were two types of sequoia. So we need to go to Yosemite sometime to see the fat boys, as opposed to the skinny ladies. I couldn’t talk him into a baby tree, although I could tell he was tempted. We did break down and buy tee shirts and a holiday ornament of an electroplated sequoia branch and seed cone. They had stuff for every price range, and almost all was quality. I was impressed.
Back to soak the feet again (no suit, just me in a chair by the hot tub) until kids splashed enough to get my duology of David Handler books damp. So I put the chair back and we went to dinner. Thai Satay was marvelous – I had Sweet Basil Beef, and W had Ginger paste chicken, and they were both very good. Also very large – we were used to tiny portions at Satay in Austin. We could have split one easily, especially with trying the fried sweet potato appetizer. It turned out to be lightly breaded, so W dissected several for me to dip in the sweet, hot sauce. This place has been voted San Mateo County’s best Thai restaurant six years running, and it deserves praise.
Dessert was fried bananas and coconut mango ice cream, and it ROCKED. Go just for the dessert! They used coconut milk to make it, and it alternated between being delicate, with an occasional coconut punch.
Next time? More museums and wine country – W is ready to get some wine education.
We turned in the car at the airport Sunday am (remember that $45 a night charge for a car in the Hilton lot?) bought round trip tickets on Super Shuttle, and headed for the O’Farrell Hilton. It is always comfortable and gracious. We never made it to lunch – my foot was bothering me enough that I went to a Jin Healing massage place to see if it improved. Good deep massage, down meridians, a lot of pressure. But she did not speak English, so my foot didn’t get extra work. W went to the Cartoon museum, and saw an exhibit about New Yorker cartoons that we never saw – was quite amusing, he said. I would have enjoyed it – but the massage helped my foot a bit, so not wasted time. I went back to get W from our room and we headed to the Museum of Modern Art.
Well, we were five minutes too late for the Picasso show, and fifteen minutes before free time. So we sat at the water park across the street, and then walked back to scope out the collection on the 2nd floor. Early Matisse, Johns, Pollock, Warhol, Rothko, and Rivera – some pieces were famous ones, like a Braque I studied in school. W doesn’t care much for modern, but I think he enjoyed the exhibits.
Then one cab ride later, I was on an ice bag and reading more of the Handler books (up to the Man who Lived at Night, good stuff!) followed by soaking my legs in a hot bathtub for 30 minutes. We had an 8:00 pm reservation at Alfred’s Steakhouse, an old SF tradition.
Last time we paid a fortune at Morton’s, which turned out to be a chain, and the sides were disappointing and the desserts nothing I could eat. Even the prime rib was “okay” – and it cost WAY too much for just “okay.” This time, we found an old Chicago restaurant, and we were not disappointed! Alfred’s is tucked away on a side street, and has been there since 1928. Old world Men’s club elegance – red walls, dark leather, crystal lighting – and they had three ways to enjoy their wares, starting with their version of a la carte, which includes two sides. You could also order a grouping that consisted of a steak, a choice of sides, and two different desserts, or a steak, with salad, two sides already selected, and a choice of dessert. We both went for the second option, but there were no substitutions. I don’t do white potatoes anymore, for several reasons, so I skipped the scalloped potatoes, but agreed to try the creamed spinach. W detests both dishes, so he got a salad and steak. The poor plate looked so naked the waiter slipped him some sautéed veggies, which were good. We didn’t squeal on him. The creamed spinach was like a fresh version of Stouffer’s spinach soufflé, which I used to adore. W refused to try it.
There was a chocolate cabernet Chambord cake that was spongy and wonderful – W got it, and I broke down to try a couple of bites. I got the crème brulee, and I think it was superior to Fogo de Chao’s crème brulee – and that’s saying a lot. The chocolate was excellent, but our local Chez Zee won in the chocolate competition. Few things, if any, can beat the Mocha Fudge Torte.
We headed back for things like packing, soaking the #$%@ foot, relaxing, showers, etc. The town promises and delivers much, but I ration my time carefully. There’s a reason why I go to SF, and it’s medical in nature. No amount of vacation before or after changes that fact.
We overslept, and there was too much of a line to have a Dot’s breakfast this time. We went to Lori’s instead, and other than forgetting the coupon for their diner, breakfast was good. This location had several people from Belarus working there – excellent but accented English. Then we went to the doctor’s office. Saw my specialist, who asked intelligent questions. She wasn’t particularly interested in doing the co-infection tests, since I was responding to the medicine she had prescribed for the observed symptoms. We decided to try a month of a new antibiotic while I will assemble paperwork to qualify for the BMW of Babesiosis meds -- $1000 a month, but if your income is below XXX, you simply pay a co-pay. Since my income is probably way below the cut-off, I will try this and see if it’s the missing link.
She also gave me samples of two different meds that probably paid for my trip out there. This can vary – last time she didn’t have anything I needed. Since our plane left at 2:50, we didn’t have time to have lunch with her, which is always a pleasure. But it was good to see her, and meet her new assistant Cindy, who is part-time and has Lyme and Morgollans, a terrible suspected variant Lyme, and thank-you, thank-you that I don’t have it.
W was thinking about me soaking once more, and we even toyed with finding a suit for me, and went to Macy’s. But the suits were $$$, being early in the season, so we packed up, hit Super Shuttle, and made our flight in plenty of time. In fact, we were early all the way home, but the pilots could not pull up to the gates until the expected time.
We had a light dinner, and crashed. Mission accomplished, farewell San Francisco until six months from now, unless the miracle remission comes before then.
I know the next scenes in Allie 3 and the Curse Book – so, the week’s work lies ahead of me. With some time in there for a client session, some webbing, and finding the rest of the #$%@ receipts!
It was back to San Francisco once again. The best way to do this is always to stay over Saturday night – it does mean the best price on fares. I wanted my appointment to be on Monday instead of Friday this time. I wanted my doc to have the option of running some special tests that can’t be done Friday – the blood won’t last until Monday. Also, I wanted to examine other options. W had mentioned a desire to see Muir Woods. I knew this was a must-attend event, so I said yes, let’s get a car and do it. He poked around and found out that Winchester House was a reasonable drive, and asked if I’d want to see it.
I’d been in love with Winchester House since I read Michaela Roessner’s (sp?) SF book VANISHING POINT, so I had to see it. This meant Friday for Winchester House, Saturday for Muir Woods, and Sunday for a museum, we hoped. We stayed outside of SF for two nights, and then the third in town at the Hilton O’Farrell.
How much did this economizing save us on housing? $100. In theory, we got Hilton points for it, but I’ll wait and see. I will say this – the Hilton Garden Inn in South San Francisco, CA was great. Decent breakfast (Irish oatmeal and Belgian waffles on the continental side! W had waffles one day, and oatmeal the next.) The hotel had free Internet access, and a small, but hot spa, where I soaked my feet. It wasn’t as flashy as the downtown Hilton, but lovely, friendly people. We brought them back menus for their book.
The hitch to this was that somehow I did something to my foot before going. It was getting steadily worse, so I knew it was going to be a problem during our trip. It was, but that’s later. We left at the crack of dawn, and arrived around 10:30 am. Picked up a small Chevy, can’t remember what now, but it drove well. We went for the full tank option – in SF, you take whatever $$$ cuts you can find. We hit Nawab Indian restaurant in San Mateo on our way south, and had the buffet. We still reached Winchester house in fine time. We toured both the house and the behind the scenes, which was fun – seeing all the clues they had for what was going on in Sarah Winchester’s mind. Poor lady only had one child, who lived a few weeks. Then her husband died 15 years later, leaving her with 20 million, plus whatever her Winchester shares paid per year. Eventually she inherited her M-I-L’s shares, too. Remember this was the late 1800s, early 1900s. One million dollars had the buying power of 55 million, ten years ago or so. She apparently earned $1000 a day, and the house is awesome. If you can build a physical home for a multitude of spirits, this would be the place. She had taste (often misplaced) and little architectural sense, but the house is definitely worth seeing. Her niece didn’t stay in it after her death – it was shown off as a curiosity from the very first.
However, my foot was becoming very painful. As in, I had to turn down a tour of the extended gardens. It was making me walk carefully, almost limping. So we headed back to our room in South San Francisco (a real town, but one that rolled up early in the evening. Lots of pizza and Italian places – a pharmaceutical town.)
Dinner was Ristorante Buon Gusto on Grand Avenue. It was hosted by one of the owners, who was proud of his restaurant, and with good reason. W had Cioppino, a favorite dish of his – this one with no crab. He said it was excellent. I had a veal dish, with prosciutto and a sauce – hold the polenta. For dessert, we resisted the tiramisu (only Oliana’s must pass my lips – and I wasn’t going down for a ladyfinger. Saving myself for Boudin sourdough.) and got the chocolate mousse. It was dark chocolate and very dense. The owner felt it was just wrong to be wine-free, so he brought us small liquor glasses with a wine that was both sweet and dry – a bit like Madeira, but not that. I said what hey and drank it. Don’t think it screwed with the meds.
Saturday we headed for Muir Woods, after a nice breakfast. There’s no charge for heading north across the Golden Gate Bridge – it’s going south that they get you. The weather was glorious. I continue in having the oddest SF luck I know of. We always can see the bridge when I’m there. The fog comes in late, and just brushes the tips of the harbor. We had the clearest weather in something like fifty years my first time there – but Highway 1 had a solid fog bank just off the road. Bizarre.
We should have moved faster, but we only got about 2-3 hours the night before, so sleep was required. We circled several times, trying to find a parking spot. I finally had to go up to SIX nuns,
clouds_looming, before Squat opened a spot up. No wonder the Vatican has a nun shortage.The redwoods are still awesome. W misunderstood – he hadn’t realized that there were two types of sequoia. So we need to go to Yosemite sometime to see the fat boys, as opposed to the skinny ladies. I couldn’t talk him into a baby tree, although I could tell he was tempted. We did break down and buy tee shirts and a holiday ornament of an electroplated sequoia branch and seed cone. They had stuff for every price range, and almost all was quality. I was impressed.
Back to soak the feet again (no suit, just me in a chair by the hot tub) until kids splashed enough to get my duology of David Handler books damp. So I put the chair back and we went to dinner. Thai Satay was marvelous – I had Sweet Basil Beef, and W had Ginger paste chicken, and they were both very good. Also very large – we were used to tiny portions at Satay in Austin. We could have split one easily, especially with trying the fried sweet potato appetizer. It turned out to be lightly breaded, so W dissected several for me to dip in the sweet, hot sauce. This place has been voted San Mateo County’s best Thai restaurant six years running, and it deserves praise.
Dessert was fried bananas and coconut mango ice cream, and it ROCKED. Go just for the dessert! They used coconut milk to make it, and it alternated between being delicate, with an occasional coconut punch.
Next time? More museums and wine country – W is ready to get some wine education.
We turned in the car at the airport Sunday am (remember that $45 a night charge for a car in the Hilton lot?) bought round trip tickets on Super Shuttle, and headed for the O’Farrell Hilton. It is always comfortable and gracious. We never made it to lunch – my foot was bothering me enough that I went to a Jin Healing massage place to see if it improved. Good deep massage, down meridians, a lot of pressure. But she did not speak English, so my foot didn’t get extra work. W went to the Cartoon museum, and saw an exhibit about New Yorker cartoons that we never saw – was quite amusing, he said. I would have enjoyed it – but the massage helped my foot a bit, so not wasted time. I went back to get W from our room and we headed to the Museum of Modern Art.
Well, we were five minutes too late for the Picasso show, and fifteen minutes before free time. So we sat at the water park across the street, and then walked back to scope out the collection on the 2nd floor. Early Matisse, Johns, Pollock, Warhol, Rothko, and Rivera – some pieces were famous ones, like a Braque I studied in school. W doesn’t care much for modern, but I think he enjoyed the exhibits.
Then one cab ride later, I was on an ice bag and reading more of the Handler books (up to the Man who Lived at Night, good stuff!) followed by soaking my legs in a hot bathtub for 30 minutes. We had an 8:00 pm reservation at Alfred’s Steakhouse, an old SF tradition.
Last time we paid a fortune at Morton’s, which turned out to be a chain, and the sides were disappointing and the desserts nothing I could eat. Even the prime rib was “okay” – and it cost WAY too much for just “okay.” This time, we found an old Chicago restaurant, and we were not disappointed! Alfred’s is tucked away on a side street, and has been there since 1928. Old world Men’s club elegance – red walls, dark leather, crystal lighting – and they had three ways to enjoy their wares, starting with their version of a la carte, which includes two sides. You could also order a grouping that consisted of a steak, a choice of sides, and two different desserts, or a steak, with salad, two sides already selected, and a choice of dessert. We both went for the second option, but there were no substitutions. I don’t do white potatoes anymore, for several reasons, so I skipped the scalloped potatoes, but agreed to try the creamed spinach. W detests both dishes, so he got a salad and steak. The poor plate looked so naked the waiter slipped him some sautéed veggies, which were good. We didn’t squeal on him. The creamed spinach was like a fresh version of Stouffer’s spinach soufflé, which I used to adore. W refused to try it.
There was a chocolate cabernet Chambord cake that was spongy and wonderful – W got it, and I broke down to try a couple of bites. I got the crème brulee, and I think it was superior to Fogo de Chao’s crème brulee – and that’s saying a lot. The chocolate was excellent, but our local Chez Zee won in the chocolate competition. Few things, if any, can beat the Mocha Fudge Torte.
We headed back for things like packing, soaking the #$%@ foot, relaxing, showers, etc. The town promises and delivers much, but I ration my time carefully. There’s a reason why I go to SF, and it’s medical in nature. No amount of vacation before or after changes that fact.
We overslept, and there was too much of a line to have a Dot’s breakfast this time. We went to Lori’s instead, and other than forgetting the coupon for their diner, breakfast was good. This location had several people from Belarus working there – excellent but accented English. Then we went to the doctor’s office. Saw my specialist, who asked intelligent questions. She wasn’t particularly interested in doing the co-infection tests, since I was responding to the medicine she had prescribed for the observed symptoms. We decided to try a month of a new antibiotic while I will assemble paperwork to qualify for the BMW of Babesiosis meds -- $1000 a month, but if your income is below XXX, you simply pay a co-pay. Since my income is probably way below the cut-off, I will try this and see if it’s the missing link.
She also gave me samples of two different meds that probably paid for my trip out there. This can vary – last time she didn’t have anything I needed. Since our plane left at 2:50, we didn’t have time to have lunch with her, which is always a pleasure. But it was good to see her, and meet her new assistant Cindy, who is part-time and has Lyme and Morgollans, a terrible suspected variant Lyme, and thank-you, thank-you that I don’t have it.
W was thinking about me soaking once more, and we even toyed with finding a suit for me, and went to Macy’s. But the suits were $$$, being early in the season, so we packed up, hit Super Shuttle, and made our flight in plenty of time. In fact, we were early all the way home, but the pilots could not pull up to the gates until the expected time.
We had a light dinner, and crashed. Mission accomplished, farewell San Francisco until six months from now, unless the miracle remission comes before then.
I know the next scenes in Allie 3 and the Curse Book – so, the week’s work lies ahead of me. With some time in there for a client session, some webbing, and finding the rest of the #$%@ receipts!