Last day in San Francisco. If this bunch of Floridians is going to fly all this way, we’re damn sure going to check out some Pacific coastline. Before we left SF, we treated ourselves to one last gift: the Dale Chihuly special exhibit in the DeYoung Museum. You really have to hand it to someone with the vision to create this:

After the feast, we piled in our Rent-a-Jetta and headed north. So we not only got to see the Golden Gate Bridge, we got to drive across it as well!


The thing that strikes me most about the California countryside is how dry it is. I’ve lived in Florida so long, I think I’ve become part amphibian. It’s wet at home in the summer, what with the afternoon thunderstorms and all, and everything’s lush and thick and green. So looking out the car window and seeing rocks, hills, sparse trees, and fields of golden, dried-brown grass is a real adjustment.

We stopped for dinner in this way-cool roadside diner in Cloverdale called Pick’s. It’s been in the same place, same decor, since the 1920s. You know, it’s too bad we seem so intent on bulldozing the past to build something new and tacky. Here’s the kind of thing we trash:

We arrived in Ft. Bragg after dark, so no peeks at the ocean just yet. Can’t wait!