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January 04, 2013
I'm all about business this morning, but I know enough to have things wrapped up by lunch time.
Yes, we have to wait, and they don't take credit cards. But who said perfection had to be convenient, too?
After that, we succumb to one of my guilty travel delights: Coit Tower. Sure, it's a tourist magnet. But the views really are sensational. The celebrate-the-people murals inside are as fine as Diego Rivera knockoffs get. And after hearing about the background personality behind the monument, the symbolism is fairly breathtaking.
Somebody mentions books next, and we're briefly paralyzed by an abundance of choices. The historical charm of City Lights Books? The solemn splendor of William Stout? The bracing eclecticism of Green Apple?
The cheapskate side wins out and we spend a satisfied hour grazing at the Friends of the Library store in Fort Mason, keeping up our energy with a pastry from Greens.
We end the day at one of my favorite corners of San Francisco subculture, the expat French scene around Belden Place. After a few hours of moules frites, Côtes du Rhône and abundant secondhand smoke, I nearly have to check my passport to make sure we haven't switched countries.
Makes me wonder: Is one of the hallmarks of a great city its ability to embrace foreign cultures?