A lot of things happened last week so this might be a bit lengthy. The entire week was lovely and sunshiny (by that I meant to say, just plain sunny) so Amarind and I decided to roam around, not that we really had to, but we thought it was the perfect time to go out and, as the saying goes, “smell the flowers.” So we did, on Tuesday last week, in San Francisco — just like what we had discussed and agreed upon the night before we hopped on BART. Actually, we didn’t really discuss anything. We just, sort of, preempted what each other had in mind and, true enough, we both thought of going to San Francisco.

The truth is, we went to San Francisco because we had to be along Market St. at 5 PM Tuesday for a forum about search engine and social media – topics that comprise 40% of our daily conversation (that’s a lot, considering we also talk about our family, places to go, what to eat, future plans, what to wear, ad infinitum.) And while we didn’t have to be part of that event, we chose to go because we love updates and innovation – things that excite and inspire us. The food was great, but I wasn’t really hungry to try anything major. Amarind offered me a glass of wine and then a bottle of beer. I guess I had four rounds of strong, ice-cold beer and it was one of the engineers from Kenshoo who said, “Hey, that’s strong,” just before my face turned warm from the subtle kick of alcohol.

But that’s another story.

You already know by now, I guess, that I love to devour as much information as I could about a place that I’d like to visit someday, so when I’m already in that place, I will have a sudden rush of déjà vu and let out “oohhs” and “aahhs” as I try to reconcile my experience with what I read. So you can just imagine the level of research that I did on San Francisco — or the Bay Area in general — before I moved here. And, inspite of that, I’m still learning new things and what I thought were gonna be “oohhs” and “aahhs” countenance turned into “oh, really?” and “oh, wow!” sometimes with more !!! at the end.

I’ve been eyeing the Japanese Tea Garden for almost two weeks now or maybe, unknowingly, for a few months now since I first read about it somewhere — in a Lonely Planet guide, most probably — so I was ready and eager to go. It was just a matter of getting there, or at least planning to get there. I thought it would be a great place to take pictures and marvel at the beauty of Zen landscapes and bonsais. And, to tell you the truth, I have never seen cherry blossoms in person so taking pictures of these beautiful pink flowers up-close would have been a treat.

We didn’t make it to the garden, sad to say. I knew that even if we tried, we wouldn’t have enough time to explore all 5 acres of it, anyway.

Nonetheless, we did some pretty interesting things, to me at least: we took the historic cable car to Powell and Hyde St. and immensely enjoyed the view of colorful Victorian houses and apartments that line up on hilly streets. Amarind said I should stand on the edge of the cable car to have the best city tour experience. I didn’t have to do it to enjoy, I thought. I was fine sitting while enjoying the clanking of the cable car’s rusty wheels.

We stopped by a bar famous for its award-winning beer and watched a two-member band perform to people who were too preoccupied to give a damn. We listened for a while and decided that it was more interesting to watch people buying ice cream from the ice cream store nearby. We thought of having a glass of beer, just so we can say that we tasted one of the best beers in San Francisco, but we decided to pass on it. Drinking world-famous beers requires time and, perhaps, friends who appreciate good conversations and beer bubbles rising to the glass surface.

Amarind told me that we have to order clam chowder for lunch from one of the joints along Fisherman’s Wharf. I love seafood and, obviously, will choose it over chicken or beef anytime of the day although I like them as well but not as much as j’adour calamari or scampi. We also ordered something from the menu that sounded light and healthy: some sort of seafood salad with a flowery name. In the Philippines, whenever I order salad of whatever kind, I’d be served a plate just enough to relish the flavor and be happy with it. This time, the waiter served us a ginormous plate of lobster, shrimp, and crabmeat on top of all sort of vegetables with everything in-between. I was like, whoa, that’s a lot! And when I say a lot, you know, it’s like five times of what I normally eat and I eat a plateful. For a time, I swore to God I wouldn’t eat seafood anymore, or at least for a while. That didn’t happen, of course. The next day, Amarind and I went to Costo and loaded up on salmon and tuna. We love salmon and tuna.

There are a lot of interesting personalities in San Francisco. People in this part of the world have the guts to don costume-y outfits and perform or sit under the sun for a $1.00 photo opportunity with them. During our walk, we saw someone who wore an outfit made of comics. When I inched closer to him, I was understandably horrified: he mercilessly ripped hundreds of pages of my favorite Archie comics and made them into a horrendous Old English-style costume! We also met Michael Jackson who was dancing so hard to rock the streets with Billy Jean. And then there’s a robot from outer space that talked English with American twang.

When I was seven, or six, my mother had, among her collection of useful bargain books, The Alcatraz Incident by Russel O’Neil on her dusty shelf. I never read it – maybe I tried to, I don’t remember – but it stuck my mind for long, like bubble gum under the chair. I wondered about Alcatraz and read about how Al Capone spent six years on the island and never attempted escape. Alcatraz is special to me because, as a kid, I thought of it as a wonderland but never even thought, until later, that it’s located in San Francisco.

So we stumbled upon this gate leading to an Eastern European-style house on one of the hilly roads and, without hesitation, invited ourselves to go in. The owners were hospitable and let us explore their property. We were offered pancakes and coffee, which was very timely as I was already close to grabbing a cup of overprized Starbucks at that time. We love the interior of the house but nothing beats looking out the window and see the real island of Alcatraz.

Right after I saw Notting Hill a few years ago, I knew I’d have that “surreal but nice” moment someday. That someday was Tuesday, when I gazed at Alcatraz from afar.

Last week was great. I know it’s only four words, but it pretty much sums up everything for me.