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| The sun, my son, the sea |
Just minutes before noon when Franky was getting off his job at Nabolom bakery, I wanted to run down the street to see him; I had to be restrained. But I got the hug I had been dying for, and found a lovely 25-year-old who hosted us beautifully for the next 6 days.
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| Berkeley Hills |
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| View from Franky's house |
We started with lunch nearby at Mediterrannee before the steep drive into the Berkeley Hills where Franky lives on Panoramic Way. Just as the name implies, there is a panoramic view of the city, the bridge(s), Marin, the sky, the trees, nature in its entirety. He lives in an aerie in the hills that is overwhelmingly charming and beautiful. I suggested we take a “little walk” in the neighborhood and he told me there are no little walks there. We climbed up into the hills met up with the fire trails and witnessed some carefully balanced architecture.
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| The three masked-kateers |
In the Bay Area you can get real Mexican food, which we did at every turn, starting that night with dinner at La Mission, muy deliciosa.
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| What a turkey of a road |
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| So important to plan ahea |
We stayed at the Double Tree Berkeley Marina, an odd location that can only be accessed by a frontage road alongside a tent city, and the bumpiest ride since All About Eve. It’s beautiful there with its many boats and sturdy views. The hotel featured eau-de-Hilton hallways and a semi-shut-down aura. And yet it’s next to the way-cool Cesar Chavez Park, 90 acres of bayside beauty with funny rodents staring out to sea and ample running and walking paths.
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| Cesar Chavez Park |
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| Alta Plaza Park |
Sunday we had brunch at Sam’s Log Cabin in Albany, in an oh-so-Cali patio setting with sunshine and a Thanksgiving cup of coffee (endless refills). Then it was our day in the City. We started on Fillmore Street and decided to walk and gawk and talk with occasional breaks in beautiful parks. First stop Alta Plaza Park (360 degree views) with grand and wide staircases (one damaged during the unauthorized location filming of What’s Up Doc.) From there to Franky’s favorite park, Panhandle, the city's oldest with 21 varieties of towering eucalyptus trees. It was super windy and cold in these parks, so we would lie down flat for warmth. Despite all the sun, SF is a chilly place. When Franky moved there in June almost two years ago he brought shorts and t-shirts thinking he was going to enjoy a summer in California.
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| Panhandle |
On the walk out of the park, a woman sitting on a blanket noticed Darr’s large camera and told him to be careful because people might steal it. She was referring to a local man who photographed his own murder. He was her neighbor. She and her friends offered us a nugget at the end of our conversation.
All over the city we noticed images of the honey bear shaped containers. (I would not use the word iconic here if you paid me.) Bears wearing masks, bears doing sports, bears dancing with their cute little spout hats. We found the bear images sort of sweet and funny, but the local artists are very sour about them and blame the tech-bro artist "fnnch" for capitalizing on his "art" by selling honey bear merch.
Do not stop at Jane the bakery for pastries as we did.
We hit the Haight for dinner and wanted sushi, but the first place was too loud, and the second place was too closed; and we found our just-right Goldilocks restaurant, Iza Ramen Fillmore, where I promptly ordered octopus balls.
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| CA Route One |
Monday was our day for a road trip. We started with a fabulous bunch of avocado toast and kick ass coffee at Soul Grind Coffee in Pacifica. They had real food on display to depict the appearance of your order, including fried eggs over easy. Franky asked, as one food industry insider to another, how often they change the food and was met with vague and evasive answers.
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| Montara Mountain Trail |
Then we went on a hike in San Pedro Valley Park on the Montara Mountain Trail, way up into the forests where we were rewarded with a bench overlooking the Pacific Ocean, cool breezes, and lizards doing pushups. We walked on the beach in Half Moon Bay and I was so cold and wind-whipped that it was hard for me to enjoy it.
So onto the warmer climes of Santa Cruz. I wanted to see banana slugs but I wanted to see a burrito more, and found some at the Taqueria Santa Cruz # 1, and even had a Mexican Coke. Then we walked along the spectacular West Cliff Drive and stumbled upon a memorial bench with the quotation “The Stars Is Our Destination.” Thank you George McKendry, you gave us a meme for the rest of the trip to which Franky applied several different accents. We had a strange encounter with a manmade blowhole, which periodically emits a loud spray of ocean water upon unsuspecting pedestrians. When we paused to look at the phenom, suddenly someone darted into the scene, held a blond pony-tailed Barbie over the hole, and videotaped her drowning. Of course this segued to fond memories of Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story, as told by increasingly emaciated Barbie dolls in the 1987 indie film.
So tired at the end of the day that we ordered sushi delivered from Kirala and ate on the floor of the hotel room.
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| Berkeley Bowl |
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| You can even buy these... |
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| Mushroom Alley at the Bowl |
Tuesday we had breakfast at the Standard Fare in charming west Berkeley, and walked over to the Berkeley Bowl, the kingdom of produce. We headed over to Marin to Paradise Drive and I finally got shopping time in Sausalito at my favorite boutique Firuze.
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| Daniel and Susan |
Daniel is a friend who has been in our lives since the dawn of time. No, but the 70’s, anyway. He was Darr’s roommate before we got married. He’s an artist, and extraordinarily charming, suave, and interesting, He had a business called Faux Real in San Francisco and painted trompe-l'oeil interiors. One of his clients was the recently-divorced Susan who bravely asked the devoted bachelor out. He was 61 when they got married, and they have traveled the world since then. It’s been hard to catch them at home, but here they were, COVID-trapped and we had a lovely lunch at the Spinnaker and caught up on the last 19 years.
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| Tennessee Cove from above |
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| Tennessee Cove from below |
After lunch Franky took us on a hike in the Marin Headlands to Tennessee Valley, a spectacular beach with black rocky sand, rough sea, and a view to Japan. Franky and I lay on the sand in a black beach bingo blanket of warmth. That night we got a half-baked pizza at Cheeseboard and warmed it up at Franky’s place.
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| Susan |
On Wednesday I had lunch with my friend Susan at Amelie Cafe and Winebar in Fairfax. She is a person I was clearly meant to meet. I met her when she visited NIH a few years ago, and we hit-it-off-off-the-bat. She has two boys, one is an artist and one is a musician, and one has a manbun and our boys are alike and we are alike and it’s all just magic.
That evening we took Franky’s childhood friends out to dinner, we’ve known Joey and Nathaniel since grade school, and Sydney since middle school. They are charming and accomplished and adorable. We ate at Daughter Thai Kitchen in Oakland and the food wasn’t great but the company was superb.
Thursday Franky wanted us to meet his boss/bakery owner Julia She told us that she “loves our baby and that we did a great job.” I told her that was enough and all I needed to hear. Julia is lively and lovely and loves Franky and gets his humor, what more could you ask for in a boss?
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| Elmwood neighborhood Berkeley |
Darr and I wandered the hilly neighborhoods in the Elmwood district of Berkeley and rejoined with Franky in Willard Park. I heard the following conversation between two millennial men on the tennis courts.
After double faulting one said:
“Damn I’m just so messed up about Mother’s Day.”
The other one said: “You have reservations, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I just didn't remember it was coming up.”
“It’s always on May 8th isn’t it?”
“I don’t know, I think it's on a weekend. I just don’t know.”
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| Aidan playing water polo |
In the afternoon we met niece Stephanie and her husband Rich at a high school in Alameda to watch their boys, Aidan and Pierce, play water polo. I had to quickly learn this game as a first-time spectator. Basically you have to swim as fast as you can from one end of the pool to the other, sometimes backwards, you have to be able to catch and throw a soccer-sized ball with one hand, you have to get the ball past a bobbling goalie into a floating net, and all the while you have to face underwater torment from the opponents. That’s all there is to it!
We were exhausted just by watching, so we had to go out for more Mexican food at Otaez and gorged on guacamole and green chile and caught up with our lovely relatives.
So that’s it. We walked 43 miles in 6 days. We burned 12,474 calories. My calves are stronger, my mood is lighter, my heart is fuller.
And the best of all the sights was Franky Beiser. He’s hilarious, he's a great host, generous and solicitous, and his love of the area makes him an excellent tour guide. I missed him so much during the pandemic and now I remember why. Thanks to the vax, I can fly now and and I will never go so long without seeing him ever again.
Oil Pastels by Franky Beiser
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