Day Three: Apologies to Witchita as well...

Waking up on Day Three in our favorite roomie's apartment, eating breakfast out of her familiar bowls, and lazily getting ready for the day in a bathroom that smelled neither of dirty water nor of cigarette smoke was just about the perfect way for these road-weary travelers to start the day. All the weather reports said it was to rain today, so we bundled up and (gasp!) put on shoes, heading out to spend what ended up being a beautiful, if cloudy, day in SF.

We hopped on the fantastic public transportation and met up with our good friends Val & Whitney at about a quarter to one. Except for their college years, they've lived in San Francisco their whole lives, having met and begun dating while they were in high school together. Sound like anyone you know? Val sang with me in Random Voices, and Whitney and Mike bonded over being awesome RV boyfriends. Whitney and I one time both wore white shirts and jeans, and I crossed to the other side of the street before he saw me, so as to avoid the awkwardness.

Every time we come up to San Francisco we enjoy getting the insider's tour from these local folk, especially of the best food in the city. By the time we stumbled back to Robyn's apartment, leg-tired and tummy-full, we had eaten at their favorite burrito joint, gotten delicious organic and homemade ice cream, picked up pastries for breakfast tomorrow, munched on some great hole-in-the-wall pizza, and dipped gourmet Belgian fries into gourmet Belgian dipping sauces.

It's one thing I always appreciate about SF, that I can't seem to find in Long Beach: the endless independent and delicious eateries that are absolutely endemic to the area. In SF it just seems like there are fewer chains and more small shops and restaurants, relying on becoming neighborhood favorites rather than putting up billboards.

By far the coolest random little San Francisco attraction we found today should, in all fairness, have been just an urban legend. We hiked up several hills because Val had heard a rumor... and surely, nothing could really be this awesome. But yet, in the middle of an otherwise completely normal neighborhood, in a tiny park lodged betwixt two houses, was a long and inexplicable concrete slide. Suffice it to say that it will take a lot to top this (sorry Bozeman):

Today we listened to: Whitney strumming his guitar while we tried to muster the energy to walk out the door again, and mad techno beats in the Belgian fry shop.

Mystery ask-us-about-us-when-we-get-home words for today: "Sacramento St."