24 Hours at Fisherman's Wharf - San Francisco

After a group tour through Sonoma, I gifted myself one day of solo time in the Fisherman's Wharf neighborhood. With only 24 hours on the clock before I returned to the airport, I arrived at the Best Western Tuscan Inn, where the valets looked like gondola pilots in their black and white horizontal-striped shirts and black straw hats. The hotel lobby resembled a casual and cozy Italian manor, with a rear window that looked out on a multi-level terrace full of potted flowers and greenery, and small trees. A sign reminded guests about the free happy hour offered every evening, and I vowed to return from my adventures in time to socialize.

I put on my warmest jacket against the February chill, and set out on foot. The smell of salt water, and uncharacteristically blue winter sky, lifted my spirits. I explored Pier 39 and then headed to the other end of the Wharf where I met a writing acquaintance and S.F. resident, for a private wine tasting at a new wine store. Fueled by great food and drink, I returned to the streets with stops at Ghirardelli, Boudin Sourdough and several other food purveyors.

As the sun set I walked briskly towards the hotel again, where I joined a large crowd of ruddy faced guests before a roaring fire, still wearing fleece and scarves as they sipped wine and munched on freshly made bruschetta. Conversation flowed as it often does in a room full of strangers without agendas or previous connections and I found myself talking with a couple visiting from Ireland.

Before we knew it Jackie and I had talked for nearly an hour beyond the last guest's departure. Only then did I realize how good my comfy bed and soft pillow sounded.

Photo Shoot by the Bay

I had purchased my digital SLR camera only six weeks earlier, and San Francisco's sometimes fickle winter weather offered a gorgeous respite in early February. With less than 24 hours before I would leave Fisherman's Wharf I checked in to my hotel, and then began walking around the neighborhood with lens poised.

At Pier 39 I found a cornucopia of great images, from the dark mystery of Houdini's Magic Shop to The San Francisco Music Box Company, where tropical snow globes and Venetian jewelry boxes shared the shelves with hand-crank and Swan Lake music boxes. Diners filled the Crab House at Pier 39 and the Hard Rock Cafe; and Bubba Gump Shrimp offered patrons views of a massive Italian carousel where brightly painted horses pranced and thousands of lights twinkled.

Despite the calendar, a riotous rainbow of flowers decorated the boardwalk. But no place grabbed my attention more than this spot along the upper boardwalk, where the carousel's base disappeared, leaving only the 'roof' and it's intricately hand-painted images of the Golden Gate Bridge, Coit Tower, Chinatown and other popular San Francisco sites in clear view. I savored the sunshine and wrapped my jacket around me, as the Bay sparkled invitingly.

Barking at Fisherman's Wharf

A chorus of deep, raspy barking drew me towards Pier 39. Captivated onlookers lined the dock railings, three-deep, and craned their necks for maximum views of the massive sea lions. More than a dozen basked in early morning sun, paying no attention to gulls that occasionally landed in their midst.

As I watched from a less crowded boardwalk across the inlet, I realized my position minimized the stench I'd heard these enormous sea mammals created. But the distance that saved my nose also hampered my view. I could not see them very well until I attached the telephoto lens to my camera. The raucous barking continued as I snapped away, capturing the sheen of their wet hides and laziness of their seaside naps.

Not until I looked at my pictures later did I realize the sea lions had totally ignored the sign that said 'No Docking.'