Beachcombing

Had a busy week at work, albeit a four-day one! It was, however, punctuated by a night out on Thursday: my friend Gami celebrated her birthday at the San Francisco Brew Pub. Having suffered the trauma of being the only bloke among nine women all night, Jon craved a bit of male company, so suddenly announced a wish to go and visit his colleague, Ollie, who had been off “sick” (read: got drunk wine-tasting in Napa Valley and fell off his bike – admittedly causing quite a severe knee injury), so we promptly headed off to his place for another couple of hours, getting to bed very late for a “school” night!

On Saturday we headed up to Point Reyes, and did a rather foggy hike to the beach. It was such a shame that everything was so grey, because it’s a beautiful area. Still, the deer and pelicans didn’t seem to mind! Afterwards, we had an early dinner in hippy Bolinas, before heading to Stinson Beach and a holiday home belonging to my friend’s parents. Stacey – a friend from Shanti – had found out that there had been a late cancellation (the house is rented for much of the year), so organised a barbecue without further ado. We knew we were going somewhere special when we were greeted by a guard ready to take our details at the end of the road. We later found out that the writer, Danielle Steele, and the former mayor of San Francisco have properties here. The houses are strung along a narrow spit of land with the ocean on one side, and a large tidal lagoon on the other. There is even a second spit sheltering another, smaller lagoon. Stacey’s parents’ place was located opposite this small lagoon, directly on the beach, with steps leading down the dunes onto the sand. (Click here to see the location.) It was a gorgeous house. Four bedrooms and three bathrooms, all set around a planted courtyard with a huge kitchen-diner and living room looking out over the ocean. We had a lovely room with small windows facing the hilly backdrop and a little skylight directly above the bed. The next morning, we all took a walk down the beach to the village – a good mile away – to get that all-American essential, coffee. Then it was back to the house and a swift assembling of food for some 50 guests – children and dogs included. The rest of the day was spent eating, drinking, chatting, dog-patting and hoping that the sun would come out, which it eventually did in the late afternoon, and bathed the sand and mountains in golden light. We finally took our leave and headed back to the city down stunning Highway 1, which hugs the rugged coast for a good few miles before crossing to the other side.

I was still restless when I got home, so decided to go for a little walk. Headed up Telegraph Hill to Coit Tower and joined the tourists watching the sun set over the Golden Gate Bridge – the peace disturbed only by the barks of sealions – before strolling down to Washington Square, past music-filled restaurants, the lovely St. Peter and St. Paul Church, old Chinese ladies out on their evening walk and the odd tramp settling in for the night. The good and the bad – mostly good – it’s all part of the fabric of a city I’ve come to love.