Christmas and living the dream
We celebrated Christmas in English style by having a huge dinner comprising turkey with all the trimmings and Christmas pudding, watching the Queen’s speech over the internet and playing board games. There were ten of us in total, which meant starting the cooking at about 9 a.m. and working continuously for several hours to keep everybody fed and watered, but I’m not complaining as I enjoy it greatly: there are so many delicious components to Christmas dinner which make it very rewarding to cook. All the more so when you have an immense American oven and a cavernous American fridge, made for the job. It was a lovely day here, so the views from the apartment were great. In the evening, we had three more guests arrive, which heralded the game of White Elephant Secret Santa (Secret Santa with the added possibility of being able to steal other people’s gifts). A good time was had by all and the pics are available here: http://public.fotki.com/EllenHardwick/christmas-in-san-fran/ (password: moocow).
Health-wise, it wasn’t a very good week for me. I had no appetite after my food poisoning/stomach bug last Saturday night and didn’t start to want to eat again until Thursday. I also managed to catch a cold – probably as a result of having a low immune system and also as a result of people coming into work who should really stay home, but don’t because they don’t get paid, as there’s no sick pay system here. I was at work all week, apart from Tuesday, as there’s no concept of Boxing Day in the States, but it was pretty quiet. Jon had the week off and went to Napa with a couple of friends on Friday, touring the vineyards. I was seriously tempted to pull a sickie and go too, but didn’t in the end, mainly because the weather was really uninviting. He enjoyed himself, though, as for once someone else was driving. He ended up bringing back four bottles and a magnum of champagne.
Saturday was really poor weather-wise: drizzly and cold. We didn’t do a huge amount: food shopping, coffee at Caffè Sapore (thank God they do loyalty cards!), hat shopping (for Jon) at the amazing store on Washington Square, then a DVD in the afternoon. We watched a new film partly set in San Francisco, but aside from the stunning shots of the city, it wasn’t very good. In the evening, we took the cable car to a French restaurant I’d been wanting to try on Nob Hill. The food was very good, but I have now been sufficiently Americanised as to wonder where the rest of my portion was!
It dawned a beautiful morning today, so I made Jon get up and take me out running, as I felt better and wanted to do some exercise after all the slobbing around of the past week. For a change, we went in the car to Crissy Field, which is where we usually turn around when we run from the flat, and jogged from there along the waterfront to Fort Point, just under the Golden Gate Bridge, and back. A tour guide was regaling a group with grim tales of the bridge's suicides (at least two people jump every month). Spied a couple of pelicans, although I think that most of them have gone wherever they go for the winter now. There were also some crazy surfers and lots of dogs, as usual, many jogging with their owners. It was stunning.
After a hearty (late) breakfast, we drove to super-posh Seacliff in the West of the city and did a little walk from there. It’s one we’ve done many times, but this time we found a new path leading down to a beach strewn with the remains of a shipwreck. There were some wonderful viewpoints along the way, and the rocky beach was being dramatically pounded by huge waves in the afternoon sun. Someone had also been engaged in rock balancing, which only served to add to the rugged beauty of the place. En route, we saw dolphins leaping along on their way down the coast. Whenever I go to this area, I’m amazed by its sheer natural splendour, which is all the more surprising, given that it’s still in the “city”.
In the late afternoon, we headed downtown, first through North Beach, where we took a coffee at a café on Columbus, then through the heart of Chinatown down Grant Avenue. We went around a few shops but didn’t find anything, hampered by the eternal problems of shopping in the sales, so we caught the cable car back. For a change, we took the Powell-Hyde car, which I’d never been on before, but that’s the one that scales the most vertiginous hills. We got off at the top of Lombard Street, which is where the famously sinuous part is, and made our way down to the apartment, enjoying the night-time vistas over the city: the twinkling lights of Alcatraz, Coit Tower, the Bay Bridge and the skyscrapers of the financial district. People must be bored of me waxing lyrical about the place all the time, but I still feel like I’m in a dream or on a film set every time I step outside the door or even look out of my window. Every day is gorged with sensations, all within a few square miles.
Health-wise, it wasn’t a very good week for me. I had no appetite after my food poisoning/stomach bug last Saturday night and didn’t start to want to eat again until Thursday. I also managed to catch a cold – probably as a result of having a low immune system and also as a result of people coming into work who should really stay home, but don’t because they don’t get paid, as there’s no sick pay system here. I was at work all week, apart from Tuesday, as there’s no concept of Boxing Day in the States, but it was pretty quiet. Jon had the week off and went to Napa with a couple of friends on Friday, touring the vineyards. I was seriously tempted to pull a sickie and go too, but didn’t in the end, mainly because the weather was really uninviting. He enjoyed himself, though, as for once someone else was driving. He ended up bringing back four bottles and a magnum of champagne.
Saturday was really poor weather-wise: drizzly and cold. We didn’t do a huge amount: food shopping, coffee at Caffè Sapore (thank God they do loyalty cards!), hat shopping (for Jon) at the amazing store on Washington Square, then a DVD in the afternoon. We watched a new film partly set in San Francisco, but aside from the stunning shots of the city, it wasn’t very good. In the evening, we took the cable car to a French restaurant I’d been wanting to try on Nob Hill. The food was very good, but I have now been sufficiently Americanised as to wonder where the rest of my portion was!
It dawned a beautiful morning today, so I made Jon get up and take me out running, as I felt better and wanted to do some exercise after all the slobbing around of the past week. For a change, we went in the car to Crissy Field, which is where we usually turn around when we run from the flat, and jogged from there along the waterfront to Fort Point, just under the Golden Gate Bridge, and back. A tour guide was regaling a group with grim tales of the bridge's suicides (at least two people jump every month). Spied a couple of pelicans, although I think that most of them have gone wherever they go for the winter now. There were also some crazy surfers and lots of dogs, as usual, many jogging with their owners. It was stunning.
After a hearty (late) breakfast, we drove to super-posh Seacliff in the West of the city and did a little walk from there. It’s one we’ve done many times, but this time we found a new path leading down to a beach strewn with the remains of a shipwreck. There were some wonderful viewpoints along the way, and the rocky beach was being dramatically pounded by huge waves in the afternoon sun. Someone had also been engaged in rock balancing, which only served to add to the rugged beauty of the place. En route, we saw dolphins leaping along on their way down the coast. Whenever I go to this area, I’m amazed by its sheer natural splendour, which is all the more surprising, given that it’s still in the “city”.
In the late afternoon, we headed downtown, first through North Beach, where we took a coffee at a café on Columbus, then through the heart of Chinatown down Grant Avenue. We went around a few shops but didn’t find anything, hampered by the eternal problems of shopping in the sales, so we caught the cable car back. For a change, we took the Powell-Hyde car, which I’d never been on before, but that’s the one that scales the most vertiginous hills. We got off at the top of Lombard Street, which is where the famously sinuous part is, and made our way down to the apartment, enjoying the night-time vistas over the city: the twinkling lights of Alcatraz, Coit Tower, the Bay Bridge and the skyscrapers of the financial district. People must be bored of me waxing lyrical about the place all the time, but I still feel like I’m in a dream or on a film set every time I step outside the door or even look out of my window. Every day is gorged with sensations, all within a few square miles.
Note that I'm sporting my new ski jacket in the picture, as well as my ear muffs (Christmas present!) from the cool shop on Washington Square.
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