Our last day in San Francisco was spent with my daughter, Rachel. She had spent a month with my oldest daughter in the Silicon Valley, and Mark and I were going to take her back to Utah with us. We took her to breakfast at Brenda's French Soul Food, where Mark and I had eaten a few days' previous, and where I was able to indulge once again in their fabulous sweet potato pancakes with butter pecan sauce.
|The line outside Brenda's as we left|
After going back to the hotel and checking out of our room, we headed down Van Ness Street in a bus, and we would switch to a street car on Market to take us down to the Ferry Terminal at the foot of Market. Since she grew up in Bountiful, I wasn't too surprised when Rachel told me this was the first time she had taken public transit.
I recalled listening to a "testimony" a number of years ago in our Bountiful ward of a young man who had graduated from high school describing taking the bus into Salt Lake City. The way he described it, it was a huge adventure for him and his "testimony" consisted, essentially, of how proud he was that he hadn't judged anyone on the bus - because, well, you know what kind of people ride the bus.
Rachel's attitude couldn't have been more different. She was intrigued and interested in everything she saw, whether it was people or things, buildings or simply materials used on the streetcar we were on.
She commented, for example, on the horizontal bars in the windows of the street car - something I wouldn't have particularly noticed, but through her eyes, she saw patterns. Mind, she's always had a good eye and has taken beautiful pictures for years with her little inexpensive camera.
The closer we got to the end of Market Street, the more intrigued Rachel was. Even though it was Sunday morning, there were people - all kinds of them - everywhere. She seemed to be breathing it all in and loving it.
After getting off the streetcar, we browsed through some street vendor tents and decided, for the princely sum of $8, to get Rachel's portrait sketched by an elderly Chinese man.
From, we walked along the Embarcadero to the craziness of Fisherman's Wharf, where we had some lunch. Then a quick visit to Japan Town, then time to load up the truck and head over the Golden Gate and toward home. It had been a great day. Rachel loved it, and so did I.