Aaaand Numbah FOUR!

Do I even need to say it was a good day?

We got up this morning, ate some Denny's downstairs in the lobby and caught a cab, finally, to the Golden Gate.

We reached Fort Point along with the other joyful tourists snapping photos of the orange pillars and cascading cables holding the fog over the bay. I thought, as me and Michelle took our own photos "Hey, I think I'll embrace the fact I'm a tourist today!" and we headed across the bridge and into the misty ocean wind.

I never really thought about how gigantic it was until I was there, shadowed by the gigantic orange pillar seperating the grey of the bay and the grey of the clouds. The city seemed so peaceful and sleepy in the foggy morning, compared to the busy city I was so used to from days past. I was even willing to ignore the tourists stopping directly in the middle of the walking path to take cheesy pictures and the rude foregners with rented bicycles to drink in everything my scences could handle (and to watch the little black ducks dive in the water. So cute!) After my legs finally said "enough" at the halfway point. We headed back, browsed the packed gift shop and found a cab back to the hotel.

We embarked to Pier 39 after a quick stop to Boudin for some sourdough. (Though I was annoyed when I found out that the delicious smells of baking bread outside the building was sprayed out in the form of steam every few minutes. It made me feel frauded.) the further we went, the denser the crouds. I went into a few gift stores for the last purchases for my family, all the while my mood was dissapating from the vast ammounts of children, French sightseers and people obnoxiously (not to mention rudely) stopping the flow of traffic on the packed dock to take a photo of their kids next to something dumb.(the giant noodle, anyone?!)

We finally faught our way to the end of the pier, took in the closest views of Alcatraz we had seen yet, and continued on to the sea lions. There were only two docks full of them there, as migration has already taken place this year for them. They were still cute as they rolled lazily around and slept in the dun. In every way they reminded me if my fat, lazy, lovable beagle, Mickey.

At this point, I was tired. Dead tired and felt sick. We had 4 blocks back to the hotel and all I wanted to do was sleep. I was so sick of tourists and no longer wanted to be considered one of them. It wad then that I decided they could keep Pier 39, I don't want to go back again.

I recovered and we headed out towards the bay again on the advice of San Francisco for Dummies. On the courner of the street a block away from us beside Fisherman's Ghrotto 9, there are lines and lines if stands selling fresh, steamed seafood. I bought a half of a dungeoness crab, freshly steamed and cracked and Michelle opted for the crab chowder in a sourdough bread bowl. We then turned around and found a door hidden in plain sight that read "Passageway to the Boats." We were greeted with an almost completely abandoned dock with nobody else around but pelecans, seagulls and ducks. We watched the cold evening fog lay over the bay and darken the approaching sunset. It was my favorite meal of the entire trip. I will crave fresh crab and miss licking lemon amd crab juice off my freezing fingers. Oh who am I kidding? I'll miss everything this city has given me.

My bags are packed... I don't even want to think about leaving tomorrow...