US here we come

Not sure if there’s still interest in this blog. Is there? Anyhow, I want to keep writing, even though we’re back home (in Canberra). I took notes of the tirp and will use these in another couple of posts later on.

On Monday 19th we arrived at our hotel near Fisherman’s Wharf, San Francisco, and, while feeling exhilarated by the charm of the place, were none the less tired and hungry. Dusk turned to night and our bodies were still working to New York City time, which is three hours behind. Thus, at 9.00pm in Frisco, it was really midnight to our bio-rhythms.

We walked around the piers – many small shops and they were still open for business. We heard some great blues/rock music drifitng through the night and followed it to pier 47, where we stumbled upon a place called Lou’s Pier 47 Restaurant and Blues Club. What a great introduction to San Francisco. It was like walking onto the set of a film noir movie. The music was happening upstairs while the eatery was downstairs. We were very hungry by this stage but enjoyed the live music coming down from upstairs. The singer sounded like Jimmy Hendrix – and had some really good guitar licks too. The restaurant has a rustic ambience and fits the foggy pier atmosphere perfectly. The clientelle was a very diverse one – a few tough lookin’ dudes, also a gay couple, plus a couple of families – like us. The bar was memorable, with a mirror behind it and shelves featuring a vast array of different alcoholic beverages.

The menu was mainly seafood – it looked great. A bloke sitting across from me had ordered a crab – a very large one that he was ripping apart in his bare hands while relishing every morsel. We each put in our orders to the waiter, who seemed very eccentric and high on life. Or something. I ordered a seafood spaghetti. Joan and Joey and Hannah put in their orders and, within a barely reasonable time, they had their meals. I just sat there, watching them eat, waiting for mine. After a fair while, catching the eye of the waiter a few times, he finally came over and apologized and promised that my meal would be ready soon. After 15 minutes or so, he brought the dish over to me – by this time, Joey and Hannah and cleaned their plates and Joan was nearly finished hers. Lo and behold – the meal he brought to me was not what I had ordered. It was a meat dish – I don’t eat meat (other than fish). Another apology and, another wait, and finally my seafood spaghetti was before me. It was good, nothing to rave about, but good.

Joan suggested that I request that I not have to pay for the meal, as it was so late. I told her I thought that was a bit extreme but, to my delight, when the bill (or ‘check’) came, my meal was not included. The waiter said something to me to the effect “I hope that’s okay…” Of course, I left a good tip, and really appreciated the sense of fairness on the restauranteur’s part.

Next instalment from me: the sea-lions of Pier 39.

Stay tuned,

Barry

Tags: Travel

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 29th, 2008 at 2:45 am and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.