SAN FRANCISCO DISPATCH
First of many travels with our four month old. She crushed it. So did we!
What was meant to be a week in California turned into a long weekend in San Francisco — I’ll spare you from the travel woes. The anchor of our trip was my best friend’s wedding. She moved west a handful of years ago, met the love of her life, and is definitely planting roots out there — and I was long overdue for a visit. While a wedding is a great impetus for a trip, this definitely made me realize we already need to go back to spend more time in her neck of the woods.
Originally, we were going to spend the first half of our time in Mendocino — cruising along the coast, wandering through the redwoods, and exploring cute towns along the way. When that part of the trip got waylaid, we were bummed thinking our window for wilderness had closed. Much to our surprise, San Francisco is really the gateway to tremendous adventure. We were not disappointed.
We arrived in the middle of the night and Ubered to our accommodations in the Marina District. We picked this spot because it was central to wedding activities, but its proximity to the Golden Gate Bridge made popping over to the highlands a breeze. Still on East Coast time, our baby woke us up at 6AM — and since our car rental wasn’t ready until 11AM, we set out on foot in search of coffee and pastries. We walked through the Presidio, among the eucalyptus trees, and up and over the hills of the city. First impression of the topography: the aerial grid of the streets gives no indication of the hills they’re draped over, making the route surprisingly treacherous on the quads.
Our destination, Arsicault Bakery, came highly recommended by a trusted friend who lived in SF for many years. Only after we ordered did we learn it was also on the bride’s mind that morning — wish we’d coordinated better and brought her some croissants. Fresh out of the oven, it felt wrong to wait to eat, so we beelined to the nearest park bench: a ham and cheese and an almond croissant each. They were as advertised — absolutely delicious.
Continuing on foot, we popped into Jane on Fillmore for coffee (and a feeding for our girl). It was so nice to sit outside! Karl (the fog) had been hanging around all morning but was starting to lift by the time we picked up the car. As we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, the skies had parted and the California sun was shining through.
We wound our way up into Muir Woods, and even though we’d hoped for many more hikes among the redwoods throughout the week, this park did not disappoint. It was spiritual among the giants. With little underbrush, you could see far between the trunks — admiring beams of light filtering through the humid air. We stuck to the trail along Redwood Creek (since I was carrying our girl in the carrier), and it more than delivered. At a slow, meandering clip, the out-and-back took three hours. She loved the flowing water and the friendly faces — her first time facing outward. She was absolutely in her element.
Even as foodies, we have a habit of getting distracted by all the fun and letting too much time lapse between meals. Realizing we hadn’t eaten since the croissants and not wanting to get hangry, we decided our next stop would pull double duty as a late lunch and an early dinner. The Pelican Inn came recommended by a local friend — imagine the coziest croft serving traditional English fare. Fish and chips and a pint sounded perfect — and they were. Cam went with the English dip sandwich and we finished with some truly top-tier bread pudding. Satiated and wanting to save our energy for the wedding weekend ahead, we took the scenic route home and called it an early night.
The next morning started early again, but this time we had the car — so we hopped across the bridge and kicked things off with breakfast in Mill Valley, where we even ran into that same local friend (great testimonial for the spot). The chorizo burrito was elite. I had to be back in the city by 11AM for wedding festivities, so we didn’t have abundant time, but we made the most of it by driving up Mt. Tam and getting out for a few quick walks. It genuinely blows my mind that such beautiful wilderness is a stone’s throw from one of the biggest cities in the country. The stoic redwoods mixed with rolling pastures overlooking the Pacific is a photographer’s dream. I could have stayed up there all day and I’m already hoping to be back for proper hikes and picnics. The rest of the day featured a bumping bus ride to the beach with a bunch of girlfriends and a welcome party at a bowling alley.
Squeezing every last drop out of our final full day, we arose bright and early and headed to Tartine Manufactory. Touristy or not — we didn’t care, it was delicious. The airy warehouse space had that quintessential mid-2010s San Francisco energy we loved. Coffee, a spread of pastries, a breakfast entrée — no notes. We grabbed another coffee at Sightglass before making our way to Baker Beach for a stunning walk toward the bridge. The Golden Gate will forever awe me. Pelicans flying overhead, nude beachgoers reading in the sun — quintessential California. We enjoyed more burritos for lunch *when in Rome* before getting ready for the wedding that evening.
Our flight left bright and early the following morning, so that concludes our San Francisco chapter. We had an unreal time taking in the sights, catching up with dear friends, and eating plenty of delicious food along the way. I wasn’t sure what to expect traveling with a four-month-old, but she surpassed every expectation. We learned that everyone benefits from going with the flow and from taking the path of least resistance whenever possible. It will all keep changing — but I’m so proud of us for sending it west to celebrate my best friend. A real treat.
My mantra lately has been: “If you want to have an [adventurous] baby, you have to do [adventurous things] with your baby.” Sounds simple, right? And yet the barriers seem to grow taller the closer reality gets — whatever the variable is adventuring (skiing, swimming, camping) or traveling (road trips, flying). I’ve found that putting the cart before the horse — planning it, then figuring it out — works for our family. Sometimes fumbling through the first try is the only way to iron out the kinks. Grateful for this trip for many reasons, but mostly for pushing us to just go.