FINDING SAN FRANCISCO Part IV: FISHERMAN'S WHARF

 

If Alcatraz was a wake up to the media’s softening of the penitentiary (it was not, in short, a facility that toughened men but, rather, one that broke them) Fisherman’s Wharf is everything we collectively imagine San Francisco to be at its best before we reach it.

There’s the bay, the sketchiness that over a hundred years since the Red Light district shut its lights off for good can only be described as charming, the kitschy arcades, candy shops and, of course, the sea lions.

Walking from one end to another takes you through an assortment of eccentrics, bohemian artists, vendors and wanderers. In other words, classic San Francisco. It’s loud, it’s tacky, but, in its own unique way, Fisherman’s Wharf is as much a part of Americana as is Coney Island.

From here too one can hop a ride on the city’s iconic trolleys, a ride which no trip to San Francisco would be complete without. We caught our ride a few das later nearer our hotel in Union Square. True to the nature of the city that was once christened the Barbary Coast, the trolley rides are uncomfortable and just a wee bit intimidating to the uninitiated. The seats are cramped but a better alternative to boarding after they are all filled, in which case you must hold on tight to the handlebars as the trolley glides through the streets with your back to the open. Jarring as it may be to the current idea of public transportation the trolleys of San Francisco are an enduring remnant of a bygone era and, in many ways, the heart of the city.

For the first few blocks we traversed Fisherman’s Wharf simply absorbing the liveliness. It is a microcosm of the multi-facet nature of San Francisco. Sure the spiritual successors of the flower children that made the city by the bay their haven are everywhere, but there’s also entrepreneurs, shoppers, bikers and business executives. To my surprise, there were a number of public displays (mostly signs and music) that were decidedly right of center.

Ghirardelli Square is the most renowned point of interest but the first shop that beckoned us in was not a candy store but a bakery, Boudin Bakery to be exact. I will go so far as to say that it is impossible to pass by the bread makers without letting the aroma of baking dough force you in.

Once inside Boudin Bakery bore to me a strange resemblance to New Orleans’s Café Du Monde. It’s both a bustling shop and eatery with orders seemingly coming from all directions. Bread is baked into a variety of shapes and sizes. I saw loaves molded into giant turtles, letters and teddy bears. For transport purposes we settled on a small teddy bear loaf.

Then we arrived at Pier 39 where I knew the sea lions were waiting and, sure enough, the noisy sea mammals covered each dock floating on the bay. Few of the blubbery beasts did more than bask in the sun, lifting little more than their massive heads to wail into air. Others simply let themselves roll off the docks into the water, later bobbing their furry heads out and calling to their companions.

In an area known for its eccentrics, for its colorfulness and its unique place in the American cultural landscape the sea lions, who have entertained visitors for almost forty years, are an appropriate closing act to a visit to Fisherman’s Wharf, especially since they are best viewed at sunset. San Francisco is not a city for everyone, though its curiosities hold their own. A trip to Fisherman’s Wharf, however, is one well worth making for just about anyone.