A 2011 student guide to traveling in San Francisco.

1. Wolf BackPack
Guide to San Francisco
food 20
The Wharf 6
Japan town 15
architecture 26
Outside SF 33

2. 2
Berkeley Union Square Dolores Park
Mission St.Palace of Fine ArtsCoit Tower
Pier 39 Golden Gate Park Japantown
Guide to San Francisco
Content Map

3. 3
Ruth Anderson is a wine-loving, cheese-coveting runner who
abhors the cold, adores the ocean and hopes to travel the
world, speak Italian, marry and have two children, both boys,
who become professional surfers.
Drew Bradley, 22, was born in Reno, Nev., and will graduate
from the University of Nevada, Reno in May with a degree in
journalism. She has traveled to many countries and plans to go
abroad for a year after graduation.
Sansan Cao, 22, is a biochemistry major graduating in
December 2009. She has a passion for science and is not afraid
to try new things. Some of her life goals include skydiving and
eating crepes in France.
Brett Corbin, 25, will graduate with a bachelor’s degree in
journalism and a minor in geography. She works at Sierra
Nevada Community Access Television (SNCAT), where she
has been since 1999. In the future, she would like to create
documentaries and bring awareness to the important issues
through the power of the media.
Alyssa Cowan, 21, is a journalism and economics major at the
University of Nevada, Reno. She’s an aspiring comedy writer
and she hopes to some day make a decent living.
Ana Luiza V. da Silva is a graduate student at the Reynolds
School of Journalism. She is a dedicated, honest, friendly and
smiling person from Brazil. Silva plans to work as a freelance
journalist.
Jocelynn de Luna, 22, print journalism major, is an Indiana Jones
wannabe with a burning desire to travel the world. So far, she
almost reached her goal with only Asia, Africa and Antarctica left
to explore.
Clint Demeritt rides dinosaurs in between trips back in time to
fight Nazis. Once called “The voice of all generations,” some
say he is the only one who can stop the Sun from exploding and
wiping out humanity.
Kathy Grimm-Tucker is a journalism major at the University
of Nevada, Reno. She works for the Department of Veterans
Affairs in Reno. Kathy plans to become a freelance writer for
magazines.
Kevin Henry, 21, is a college student with a subconscious
phobia of large cities. He has never been east of the Rockies
or west of San Francisco. He lives in the thriving metropolis of
Reno.
Emily La Brecque is a senior at the Reynolds School of
Journalism. She enjoys gluten-free dining and is incredibly un-
photogenic.
Amidst the chaos of life, Megan Maghsadi, a 32-year-old
journalism student at University of Nevada, Reno, makes time
to enjoy the simpler things. She believes the necessities of
everyday living should never overshadow nurturing the creative
side.
Matt Sala is a 25-year-old musician who loves to travel.
Perpetual motion is his preferred state of being. Truly smiling is
of immense importance to Matt. He is infinitely drawn to Africa.
Kelly Teemer, a 22-year-old UNR senior, has been writing since
she was six years old. She enjoys playing guitar, sailing and, of
course, traveling.
meet the travel writers
Rebecca Cronon, 28, is a journalism major at the University of
Nevada, Reno, and she works full-time at a local TV station.
Between work, school, and family, including a 3-year-old son
bursting with energy, she hopes to graduate by her 30th birthday.
Florence De Vrye, a UNR junior, plays on the tennis team in UNR.
She comes to Reno from Belgium and enjoys traveling, spending
time with friends and the cinema. She also likes the feeling that
she has on landing in the Brussels airport every single time she
goes back home for holidays.

4. 4
Solo in San FranciscoA journey to the ballet -- and the people in between
By Megan Maghsadi
Emerging from the BART station at Montgomery
Street in San Francisco, I swung my too-full-for-a-weekend-
trip bag over my shoulder and ventured out among the
skyscrapers, cars whizzing by and the hustle of sidewalk
traffic. I noticed a couple of women talking in front of me.
Since I was alone and only had a tiny, Google map folded up
in my pocket, I thought these women might be able to help
me find my way around. I approached meekly and asked,
“Excuse me, but do either of you know where Clay Street
is?”
The younger looking of the two women, wearing a full-
length beige trench coat, with her sandy-blonde hair held
back with a plain white headband responded with an English
accent, “I’m actually walking that way. I’ll walk with you.”
After walking about ten blocks, she pointed across the
street to the Club Quarters Hotel, located one block from
Embarcadero Center in the Financial District, just a short
walk to Fisherman’s Wharf and the Ferry Building. I thanked
her and crossed the street to check in.
After checking in, I immediately hopped in the elevator
and headed to my room. It was 7:30 p.m. and I had to get
myself to the Palace of Fine Arts by 8:00 p.m. to catch the
ballet.
I arrived at my room on the third floor, which was $145
for a Friday night. It was quaint, small; one queen bed, a
nightstand, a desk, one window and a bathroom. For a person
rolling solo in the city it fit perfectly. Being a single woman
in the city, the after-hours security of the hotel also sold me.
Entry is impossible to all without a room key.
I changed quickly and hurried back downstairs to catch
a cab. Luckily, across the way from Club Quarters is a taxi
hub. In three minutes a yellow cab pulled up next to me.
I asked the driver to take me to the Palace of Fine Arts
Theatre. The time read 7:53p.m.
Inside the Palace of Fine Arts Theatre for the “Smooth as Sinatra” ballet
Photo by Megan Maghsadi

5. 5
The Palace of Fine Arts Theatre was hosting the
Smuin Ballet. The Smuin Ballet has been performing in
San Francisco for 15 years. Michael Smuin, himself has
performed in the San Francisco Ballet, the American Ballet
Theatre and on Broadway. Smuin’s ballets are known for
meshing theatre with dance in a symbiotic fashion. The
three-act ballet I was attending included a rendition of the
famous Greek tragedy, Medea, and a piece entitled, “Smooth
as Sinatra”. The Sinatra aspect encouraged me to purchase
my $25 ticket to my first ballet.
I arrived at the Palace of Fine Arts at 8:07 p.m. The not-
so-friendly cabby, who charged me $12.95, dropped me off
at the wrong door, where some kind of Sci-fi convention was
being held. The man inside directed me to the theatre.
Standing outside the theatre, smoking a cigarette, was
a middle-aged man with blonde hair, wearing jeans and a
black, button-up shirt.
“Don’t rush in,” he said. “You’ve already missed the first
act, but don’t worry, it’s not one of the good ones and now
you have time for a glass of wine.”
The man had a point. Ticket in hand, I walked into the
reception area. There were several little tables set up with
simple flower arrangements. The walls were lined with red
curtains. There was a statue of Sinatra in
between two Greek statues on the wall
adjacent the tables and pictures of the
lounge legend covered the far wall.
A bar graced the front of the room.
Wine, fruit plates and salmon with cream
cheese and capers were among the goodies.
Walking up, I noticed the man behind the
bar looked identical to the man I’d met
minutes before, outside.
“How about that glass of wine,” he said.
After asking my preference, he poured me
a glass of red wine in a small, plastic cup. I
pulled out my wallet to pay him $7 but he
stopped me and said, “This one’s on me.”
I sat at a table and sipped my wine.
The room was empty except for a short
gray-haired woman wearing a green tie-
died shirt, brown pants and a jean jacket.
She fiddled with a stack of papers before
she caught me looking at her. Her name is
Carol Fregly, an English teacher at the City
College of San Francisco. One of her old
students, Aaron Thayer was in the ballet
and she had come to watch him perform
and give him letters of recommendation
she’d prepared for him. We talked for the
remainder of the first act. Fregly is involved
in several music festivals around the city,
knows Michael Franti personally, and loves
Emmylou Harris.
The first act let out and people poured
into the room. I explained to Fregly that
this was my first ballet. She gushed about
the talent I was about to witness and how
it was so unique to anything I’d think of as
ballet. She asked me where I was sitting and I responded,
seat L-11. She then decided to trade me seats so I could get
a better view of the show, after all, she’d already seen it. I
graciously accepted, finished my wine
and escorted myself to seat F-39, six rows
back from the stage.
“Smooth as Sinatra” sold me on ballet.
The dancers, women dressed in flowing
pastels, men in Sinatra-style suits glided
across the stage to “I’ve Got You Under
My Skin,” “The Way You Look Tonight”
and other favorites. For the finale, all the
dancers donned the staple Sinatra fedora
and shook their stuff to “New York, New
York.”
Following the ballet, I indulged my
hunger at Laiola, on the corner of Filmore
and Chestnut in the Marina. I sat at the
bar in the dimly-lit, earth-toned restaurant
and ordered a Pas Verde, one of Laiola’s
signature cocktails, made with Clementine
vodka, cucumber, lemon and cava, and
served in a champagne flute. I feasted on
the first course of spicy roasted cauliflower
with fried capers and chili oil for $6.
The cauliflower was perfectly cooked, al
dente and I nearly cried when the crispy
capers were gone. I finished my meal with
the Basque pepper shrimp with garlic,
oregano and olive oil for $11. The sauce
was rich, spicy and bursting with garlic.
After finishing my shrimp I dipped the
remainder of my bread in the sauce. It was
too good to waste.
After dinner, I hailed a cab and headed
back to my hotel, elated with my solo in
San Francisco experience.
Above, the view from the Club Quarters hotel room, the Embarcadero Cinema.
Below, Carol Fregly, an English teacher at the City College of San Francisco
Photos by Megan Maghsadi

6. 6
While some equate Pier 39 to a crowded, tacky
tourist trap, others find it to be the perfect place to hang
out on a sunny afternoon. One perception of the area: a
boardwalk and pier lined with overpriced merchandise and
food and cheesy museums and attractions. But those who
come for the atmosphere and bring nothing more than $20,
say there is a completely different side of the wharf.
I have been here a couple of times, but never without
my parents and an agenda. In order to insure I wouldn’t
be caught in a number of tourist traps, my friend Emily
suggested that we take no more than $15. Emily has been
going to school in Berkeley for almost two years and often
comes to the wharf to “just chill.” Once in a while she admits
to buying an overpriced t-shirt or keychain, but every time
she has a new “Wharf Day” album uploaded on Facebook.
I can smell the wharf before I see it, and while I’m not a
big fan of the fish section in grocery stores, the wharf smells
different. It smells like the ocean, which makes sense since
it overlooks the bay, but it’s blended with a sweet and salty
smell of fresh bread and chowder.
Fisherman’s Wharf: The Other Side
Hanging out on a sunny afternoon
Story and photos by Drew Bradley

7. 7
e As soon as the car hit
the curb, we quickly hopped
out and thanked Emily’s
brother for giving us a
ride down to Embarcadero
Street. The first thing I see
getting out of the car is a
huge glass window with
a giant alligator made of
bread sitting on a table
inside. A bunch of people
are taking pictures of it and
the prices on the menu near
the window are outrageous
– I had clearly seen and
been intrigued by one of the
tourist traps. However the
Boudin Bistro and Museum
was not a cheesy and
annoying attraction; it was
cool. We walked inside this
small area of the restaurant
dedicated to bread, different
kinds, shapes and sizes.
Although we don’t buy
anything, bread-animals
start at around $8, we looked
at the displays and took
pictures for over 30 minutes.
When we started making our
way out Emily told me that
Boudin always has different
huge bread-animals in the
window and she stops by
to checkout the animal on
every visit.
Because I had focused
all of my attention on
Boudin’s alligator upon my
arrival, I was overwhelmed
when I stepped back out
onto the sidewalk. It was
a Friday afternoon and the
Wharf was swarming with
all sorts of people. The walk
down Embarcadero towards
Pier 39 looked crowded
with souvenir shops and fish
stands. Emily pushed me
forward, “Come on, this is
my favorite part,” she said.
I quickly figured out
that she was referring to all
the street performers we passed along the way. Some of the
performers were silly, like the men who are spray-painted
silver and gold and do the robot then put their hat in front of
your face for money, but others were truly intriguing. Kevin
Kooyumjian was playing a techno-mix on his keyboard and
jamming out with little kids dancing to his music.
We sat down to watch him alongside an old couple
eating bread-bowls. It took less than a minute for me to start
longing for a bowl of my own. Turning back to Emily, I saw
that she was already engaged in a conversation with a young
guy about keyboards or techno, maybe both. I introduced
myself and learned that he had come across the bay with
some friends for the day. John Desmas, 21, has lived in the
Bay Area his whole life.
“I come to the Wharf a lot because there’s a ton to do,”
John said. I asked him if he had been to the Wax Museum,
or Ripley’s Believe It or Not, or possibly the World War
II ships. “Nah,” he smiled. “That’s what you non-San
Franciscans do.” Well, I asked him, why come down to the
wharf if you don’t do any of the wharf stuff? He replied:
“The noise, the view and the sea lions.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by noise, and I had yet to see
a good view or seal lions. Kevin stopped to take a break from
playing the keyboard, so Emily and I left John, who went
off to find his friends. We kept strolling down the sidewalk,
walking through at least five different types of music zones,
one group, The Flash, playing steel drums, had attracted
quite a crowd.
Pier 39 wasn’t hard to spot. It was marked with bright
flying flags and an odd giant statue of Anubis, an Egyptian
god, leant to Pier 39 for the Tutankhamun exhibit in San
Francisco. This part of the wharf has an estimated 10.5
million visitors annually (Zoltak). I quickly understood what
John meant by ‘the sound.’
After getting over the initial anxiety that comes along
with entering any tourist area, I absorbed the ambiance
of a bustling, happy, peculiar place. Saxophonist Stephen
Dreyfuss was playing Van Morrison’s “Days Like This” and
spectators sat around on benches and along the sidewalk to
listen. Children yelled and chased each other and groups
of teenagers laughed when one of the kids took a spill.
Everyone at the Pier was happy - kind of like Disney Land.
I could hear seals barking in the distance, adding the final
element to the sound of Pier 39.
Walking towards the 45-acre complex, I saw the sign I
had been subconsciously
looking for since we
left the couple eating
bread bowls. Pier
Market had come highly
recommended to me
by a friend of Emily’s
and confirmed by John.
Neither of us needed
menus, as we both had
bread bowls on our
mind all morning. We
sat outside and people-
watched until our food
arrived. Part of the
reason Pier Market
seemed to be a clear
favorite is because a
clam chowder bread
bowl costs $8.50, but
you can get a refill for
only $4.50. This turned
out to be a great feature
since my chowder
was gone within five
minutes.
I realized that after
we added the tip my Street performer Kevin Kooyumjian plays the keyboard.

8. 8
$15 would be gone and worried that I might need
more money for something else. “Don’t even worry
about it, it’s already 3:15 and my brother is coming
at 4:00,” Emily said. “We’ve spent like four hours
here and you still need to see the sea lions – and they
don’t cost anything.”
We hurried past some of the oddities in
the complex including Houdini’s Magic Shop,
Magowan’s Infinite Mirror Maze, a store dedicated
to all types of magnets and one for only left-handed
people. The end of the pier opened up to a large
carnival-style carousel and I turned the corner to look
out at a panoramic view of the bay. Sailboats glided
across the large expanse of water and the breeze
swirled along the side of the pier. The bay was clear
and I could see Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge
off in the distance.
The sight temporarily numbed me to the sound of
the barking. I walked over to meet Emily, who was
standing up on a bench overlooking the sea lions. I
squished my way through the crowd of people to hop
up with her. Hundreds of animals covered the square
pads. I looked around and everyone clearly loved
watching the sea lions. I asked a young couple, Sarah
Kenny, 23, and Sean Gillett, 21, from Seattle, how
long they had been watching the lions.
“We’ve been here for more than an hour
actually,” Sarah laughed. “I could literally watch
them all day,” Sean said and then quickly began
cheering for a large male lion that had knocked a
younger male off of the pad into the water. Sean and
Sarah didn’t have any shopping bags or cameras.
Emily’s brother arrived earlier than planned
and we rushed back to Embarcadero and hopped in
his car. Driving back to Berkeley, I decided that at
the wharf, you see, hear and do what you want. If
you want to be at a mall, a circus or a carnival, you
can. But if you want to take a stroll, listen to music,
secretly laugh at crazy people and relax and be happy
– you can do that too, without spending money. But I
do highly suggest the bread bowls.

9. 9
Our pickup truck, covered with a film of dirt and
flattened insects, pulls into a narrow parking spot on
the northeast side of the Coit Tower on Telegraph Hill
Boulevard. It is nothing short of a miracle that we find a
spot so easily at such a popular attraction in San Francisco.
There are roughly 30 parking spaces in the round lot,
and the third space on the right is empty and it practically
screams our names. Mark unbuckles Ryan out his car seat,
and he skips down the sidewalk, with Mark close behind.
I step out of the truck, and glance over the cement wall
toward the water.
The Golden Gate Bridge stands proudly in the distance
toward the west, and Alcatraz a little off to the east. Clouds
of late-morning fog still hover over the bay, and white
boats dart through the bright, blue water of the Pacific
Ocean.
It is just before noon; and besides a chilly wind that
occasionally blows through our sweatshirts, the weather
is clear and pleasant. I walk to the center of the parking
lot, which holds a statue of Christopher Columbus, whose
Culture at Coit Tower
Found parking -- and enjoyed one of SF’s most popular attractions
Story and photos by Rebecca Cronon

10. 10
chiseled face watches
over the bay.
Ryan climbs the
cement wall hugging the
dirt and concrete that
support the statue. His
tiny hands, still sticky
with chocolate milk and
a McGriddle sandwich
from breakfast, grip the
iron fence that circles
the bronze Columbus.
After a few
moments, we walk up
the staircase that zigzags
up to the entrance
to the Coit Tower.
Schoolchildren on field
trips giggle and hop up
and down the steps, as
their chaperones try to
control their excitement
of being out of the
classroom.
I walk through the doors, and directly in front of me there
is an elevator; an elevator that has taken thousands of visitors
(about eight at a time, of course) to one of the tallest points
in the city for its 360° views.
Before our turn, we stop in the gift shop to buy our
tickets for the vertical experience. I notice the doorway into
the shop is relatively smaller to modern ones, and it doesn’t
help that the frame is surrounded by displays of postcards,
mugs, t-shirts, tin cups and countless traditional San
Francisco souvenirs.
Mark buys two adult admissions to the observation
deck for $5 each (Ryan’s admission is free; three-year-olds
and younger don’t have to pay), and the clerk orders us to
follow the yellow line. The “yellow line” is a long stripe of
feathered, banana-colored paint on the floor that is partially
hidden by the rows of key-chains, magnets, shot glasses and
snow globes filled with glitter and various landmarks of SF.
We wait less than a minute for our turn on the elevator. We
stepped inside and the operator closes dingy but golden-
colored crisscross bars. We hear the loud motor switch on, its
power forcing our group 210 feet into the sky.
The elevator operator’s name is Derek, a young Asian
man with a bright smile and slightly broken English.
“This elevator is 76 years old, as old as Coit Tower,”
Derek says. The other passengers nod and “hm!” in
amazement.
“But, they change the cable every year,” he explains. “If
they didn’t do that, I won’t be here!”
We all laugh, relieved to know this. I look around the
elevator in our final moments of our ascent; its walls are
covered in white and gold-colored paint and peeling stickers.
At just more than three-quarters of a century old, I realize
this is probably the older elevator I’ve ever ridden. In fact,
on the floor near the door reads “Otis Elevator Company,”
which has produced elevators since the 1850s.
Finally, the elevator stops, and then we climb 23 white
steps that curve to the right, with a few windows on our left.
Old, dusty cobwebs cling to the outside of the glass, but
those wispy, dirty strands cannot hide the beautiful views of
the ocean and some the tallest buildings that Ryan has ever
seen in his young life.
At the top, we walk across an old wooden floor. I notice
an old door on my right, with a window covered with a grid.
I peer through the tiny squares into a dark room. There is
a small window allowing a bit of sunlight into the room,
allowing me to see only the old motor that’s responsible for
the elevator that brings thousands of visitors to the top of the
Coit Tower every day.
We climb another 14 steps that finally bring us to
the observation deck. Roughly a dozen people are here;
their faces pressed against the windows, taking in a bird’s
eye view of the ocean, the piers, Lombard Street and the
Bay Bridge. Everything looks so tiny from this view; it’s
like looking at thousands of dollhouses of every color
imaginable, with bright green trees and parking lots breaking
up the monotony of the neighborhoods.
I approach an interesting-looking man with a pale
complexion and red hair, who is snapping photographs. His
name is Martin, and he’s visiting SF from Manhattan.
“I’ve never been here,” Martin says. “I was having
breakfast with a friend, and he suggested I come to Coit
Tower. So I walked here from the piers, and I thought I
would play tourist today.”
I ask Martin what he likes about it here, already
anticipating his answer.
“Two things,” he says. “The views (I knew it), and the
historical part. I thought the story and the history were
interesting. She was considered risqué, and her family even
tried to kill her.”
Martin is talking about Lillie Hitchcock Coit, who was
known for her love of the city of San Francisco and left
$125,000 to the city for beautification purposes. Coit often
dressed in men’s clothing, smoked cigars and enjoyed
gambling. At one point in her life, a relative shot at her at
a hotel in SF. Besides the city, Coit also had a passion for
firefighting and became a mascot for the Knickerbocker Hose
Company in 1863. Her donation was used to build the Coit
Tower, which was completed in 1933 – four years after her
death.
We walk down the steps back to the elevator, and return
to the first floor. Nearly 20 fresco-style murals cover the
walls, depicting colorful scenes of life in the early 1900s
in SF. Men in overalls harvesting and packing oranges; a
group of shoppers enjoying lunches that
cost less than a dollar; crowded streets
with an overturned car and a victim on
the ground; lumber mills and milking
operations showing the industrial side
of the city.
The hallways are getting more
crowded now, and the line outside the
elevator is beginning to stretch around.
I walk back into the gift shop. The clerk
tells me the daily number of visitors to
the Coit Tower depends on the weather.
“There are not too many people here
today,” he says.
We walk back outside. Not only did
the weather warm up even more, visitors
are now sitting along the concrete wall,
watching small airplanes zoom over the water. One plane
gets awfully close then thrusts 90 degrees toward the sky.
While returning to Reno, I realize that visiting the Coit
Tower cost very little, but we enjoyed some beautiful art, and
captured more than 200 pictures. Again, we felt very lucky
for not having to fight over a parking spot.
Ryan enjoys the SF trip.

11. 11
By Jocelynn de Luna
A single candle wavered brightly in the night sky,
but offered little protection from the cold wind sweeping
through the patio area of the Cheesecake Factory. Through
the glass paned windows, a group of people weighed down
by numerous shopping bags shouted with boisterous laughter
and attracted my envious eyes as they shed their warm
clothing. It was only the blazing roar of the outdoor heater
that provided some comfort, but it was worth it for the sight
of Union Square at night.
Towering designer buildings enclosed the area with
Saks Fifth Avenue and Tiffany & Co. Directly across, the
Cheesecake Factory was clearly visible from the top floor of
the Macy’s building. In the times near Christmas it would the
perfect vantage point to see the twinkling lights of the great
Christmas tree erected near the Dewey Monument that stands
in the center of the square.
The day started well with a trip into the heart of
downtown San Francisco using Bay Area Rapid Transit, or
BART, a useful type of transportation if you’re looking to
save money. BART is a smart way to travel in the city. It
saves you miles of block walking so you can spend more
walking time within the stores. All you have to bear with are
the sometimes-crowded compartments and the clean yet dirty
seats with visible stains from various spills. Oh yes, there
is also the annoying tremendous pressure from traveling
underneath the bay that clogs the ears and makes you want to
continuously yawn.
With $40 in my purse, I journeyed to Union Square with
a mission to find an accessory to glamorize an ordinary black
dress for the low price of $10. A daunting task for shopping
in an area known for its designer stores.
The best BART stop to enter Union Square is Powell
Shopping and cheesecake
A sinful combination

12. 12
Street. Here, you will already find yourself in the underbelly
of the Westfield Mall. Escalators upon escalators can be
found here with many levels and many shops. Stores such
as Nordstrom’s, Express and American Eagle can be found
here. Usually crowded on a Saturday afternoon, it was even
more so crowded with Fleet Week bringing more tourists to
the city.
Across the street from the Westfield Mall, Forever 21 and
Gap mark the starting point of the Powell & Hyde Park cable
car line. Riding on a cable car is an experience no tourist
would want to miss. Tickets can be purchased at this station
for the low price of $3 for adults and youths (age 5 - 17) each
way. Seniors also pay $3, but with a $1 special from (9 a.m.
– 7 a.m.).
After several hours of window-shopping and no luck at
finding a $10 accessory I find myself standing in front of a
building called H&M. Now if you’ve never been to H&M
you should know that they have stylish items for cheap.
“I was so surprised by how cheap this store is, I went a little
wild and bought more than I needed,” Jeff Bustarde, 23, said.
“It reminded me of the dangerous Costco temptation, where
you go in to buy one thing and come out with a lot more.”
H&M is a very trendy shop in the United Kingdom and it has
finally made its way to the United States. This high fashion
store took San Francisco by storm and reeled in chaos as San
Franciscans and tourist alike came in floods.
This was the perfect place to shop for my $10 accessory
for my black dress because practically all the accessories
they have in this store were $10 and under. Shoes, stockings,
hats, gloves, scarves, sunglasses, you name it. It’s all here
for the low price of $10. So if you are ever in Union Square
and actually want to buy something affordable, H&M is your
destination.
The day was almost over and in the horizon the sun
began to set. Hunger and weariness plagued me, so I decided
to eat somewhere special in Union Square.
“You should really go eat at the Cheesecake Factory
dear,” the H&M cashier person said as she rung up my
purchase. “They have very large portions if you’re hungry.”
Almost every individual in the Square suggested the
Cheesecake Factory. So onward I went to find the Macy’s
building. Once found, I passed and maneuvered myself
away from the inquisitive perfume ladies and climbed the
escalators all the way to the eight floor.
Already I can see the popularity if the restaurant. Pushing
myself through the sea of people waiting for their seats I
made my way to the front desk and put in my reservation.
It was an hour and half wait before I could be seated and 30
minutes before I could even obtain a pager because they ran
out.
The Cheesecake Floor was too crowded for my taste so
I went downstairs and saw people sprawled all throughout
Macy’s furniture area, sitting down and waiting patiently.
The nice part of this area was that there were enough chairs
to go around and an array of beautiful Christmas trees
decorated the area, making the waiting cheery rather than
weary.
After my long wait, I got a big surprise as the server lead
me not into the interior area, but out to the patio area. This
would probably be the best
place to sit in the day when
the sun is out and shining.
But on a night with the
cold wind blowing, only
the spectacular sight would
compensate for the lack of
warmth.
The food was delicious
though and the portions
were indeed big. The
prices were not bad to
look at either. I ordered
the Hibachi Steak. This
is a certified Angus
Hanger Steak with shitake
mushrooms, onions, bean
sprouts, wasabi, mashed
potatoes and tempura
asparagus. This succulent
steak is tenderly cooked and well seasoned.
This may not sound like the best part, but the highlight of
my day was the cheesecake. You can’t go to the Cheesecake
Factory without buying a cheesecake. The creamy blend
just melts into the mouth. With 33 different cheesecakes
to choose from, this is indeed a house of sin. What’s a few
pounds gained? It is totally worth it. Union Square is sinful
with tempting shopping and even more tempting cheesecake.
Shopping at H&M near Union Square.
Photos by Jocelynn de Luna

13. 13
By Florence De Vrye
One night at the Fisherman’s Wharf could seem
a little cliché when you have only few hours to spend in
San Francisco. But when you ask people what to visit in the
“most European town in the United States,” nearly everyone
answers -- Pier 39 and the Wharf.
We were a group of five young girls, all coming from
Europe and discovering San Francisco for the first time. Of
course we all heard about the Fisherman’s Wharf before
heading there and it is maybe why, after we’ve been dropped
at Union Square, we took the cable car at Powell station,
directed toward Mason.
When we started the trip, it was already the end of the
afternoon. We didn’t think about it but this exact timing
gave us the opportunity to enjoy the wonderful sunset on the
Golden Gate Bridge from the top of Nob Hill.
The temperature was still decent for an end of October
evening and the wind blowing inside the car by the open
windows didn’t really disturb us. Riding down Nob Hill, we
had our first view of the Wharf.
Today, as in the past, it is the fishing fleet, operated by
the grandsons and great-grandsons of the past generations,
that is the heart of Fisherman’s Wharf. It is still a place of
activity; the center of a marine-oriented industry beloved by
native San Franciscans and visitors, the Fisherman’s Wharf
Merchants Association told us.
In those earlier periods the favorite fishing spots were
outside the Golden Gate, just beyond the waves breaking on
the rocks and sandy beaches. It took great skill to manage
the boats so they did not drift ashore and wreck. In terms of
money, the rewards were very low. The average fisherman
made $2 or $5 a week. But, on the other hand, a loaf of bread
could purchased for less than five cents, and good red wine
came from grapes that could be purchased for $5 a ton.
While walking down the Embarcadero to the Pier 39,
A night at Fisherman’s Wharf
Euro girls discover the Bay

14. 14
we discovered that it was a long coastal row of seafood
restaurants, street vendors and souvenir stores. It was getting
dark already and our stomachs were getting empty. We
decided to find a restaurant near the piers.
That was harder than we expected. We’ve heard
about Scoma’s restaurant, supposedly the best seafood
on the Wharf. I’m not a seafood fan but one against four;
I didn’t carry a lot of weight. We went there around 8
p.m.; the restaurant was full. We heard people talking in
every language we knew. This restaurant was probably
recommended in more than one tourist guide of San
Francisco. It took us an hour to get the table, a reasonable
time to go outside and walk to the famous Pier 39.
Sidewalks were crowded. They were teemed with
tourists, rip-off artists, “flim-flams” and scams. The
atmosphere was a little disappointing, but we kept walking
toward the Pier.
We stopped for few minutes at the Boudin Bakery, took
a tour inside, peaked through the window and watched the
bakers make the sourdough bread that San Francisco in
known for. The smell of fresh bread was so strong that we
would have probably fallen for the clam chowder soups
in bread bowls if our name wasn’t already on the list at
Scoma’s.
We continued walking going down the piers
when we suddenly started to hear weird noises on
our left. The dark was everywhere so we couldn’t
see what was going on. We finally entered the Pier
39 by the west side and came nose-to-nose with
the famous sea lions. It was a surprise for us to
find these kinds of animals there, so we read their
stories on explaining boards.
The boisterous barking mammals started
arriving in droves, taking over the docks in January
1990 shortly after the 1989 earthquake. At first
they numbered from 10-50, but due to a plentiful
herring supply, available dock space and the
marina’s protected environment, the population
grew to more than 300 within a few months. Each
winter, the population can increase up to 900 sea
lions, most of which are male. During the summer
months, the sea lions migrate south to the Channel
Islands for breeding season, but in recent years a
small group stays year-round at PIER 39’s K-Dock.
Today, more than 1,585 animals are there.
After the sea lion stop, we continued to go
around the Pier. Despite an icy wind that was
blowing our faces, we stayed admiring Alcatraz by
night for a while. Unfortunately, the hour we had
almost passed and we had to go back to Scoma’s as
soon as possible.
On our way back, we crossed the pier, stopped
in few souvenirs shops, looked at the streets
artists and heard some stories. Old timers around
Fisherman’s Wharf have tales to tell about the
hard work that fed their families. If the boat was
becalmed, they waited long hours for a breeze,
or got out the oars and rowed. Sometimes they
would throw a grappling hook into the rudder chain
of a passing steamer and get an easy ride home.
When the steamer crews called out imprecations
against these marine hitchhikers, the Italian fishermen
screamed right back in words that soon became
a part of waterfront “lingo,”as was told us by the
Fisherman’s Wharf Merchants Association.
We finally got our table around 9 p.m. We sat and started
looking at the menu. No surprise, lots of choice of seafood,
but still expensive for young students. I just took a plate
of pasta bolognese while my friends were debating on the
lobster ravioli, the calamari or mussels. The service was
good even though it wasn’t really quick. The atmosphere of
the restaurant was cozy.
Our table was located in a small room. It was warm but
not too much, just perfect in spite of the impressive number
of people seated in the restaurant.
Scoma’s is located near the fishing boats on bustling
Fisherman’s Wharf; it overlooked beautiful San Francisco
Bay with Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge in sight.
The food was delicious and came up to our expectations.
The only drawback of the restaurant was the excessively
expensive bill we had to pay at the end of our dinner.
After our dining experience, it was already time to go
back to the hotel located in the other side of the Bay Bridge,
in Oakland. In the car, like a work of magic, the song San
Francisco by Scott McKenzie played on the radio. And we
all started to sing, as a goodbye, “If you’re going to San
Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair…”
Sea lions nap on rafts near Pier 39.
Photos by Drew Bradley

15. 15
By Alyssa Cowan
It never would have occurred to me to eat green
tea cheesecake, but I became a big fan. I was sitting at a
table in Kissako Tea, a small tea and dessert shop planted
underneath a set of stairs. The décor consisted of screens
and umbrellas made out of rice paper. On each of the tables
rested a list of their specials accompanied by a cartoon of a
girl wearing a kimono.
Kissako Tea is on the bottom floor of the Japantown mall.
Nestled between Geary Boulevard and Post Street in San
Francisco, the mall gives visitors a sample of the Japanese
culture. The two story structure spans a few city blocks,
building over passes where the street stands in the way of
continuity. On the outside, it’s easy to recognize because of
the Hotel Kabuki, and a cylindrical five tiered tower, both
architecturally inspired by Japanese styled pagodas.
Unlike many places in the city, Japantown has an ample
parking garage with reasonable rates (around $2 an hour).
The parking comes in particularly handy if you’re visiting
something nearby like the Fillmore Auditorium, a popular
music venue which happens to sit catty corner from
Japantown on Geary Boulevard.
I entered near the newly renamed and remodeled Hotel
Kabuki, named for a popular Japanese theater style known
for encompassing dance, drama, and elaborate costumes.
In 2007 the hotel was renewed, but it maintained focus
on Japanese culture with beautiful paintings of paper fans
and elegant kimonos. Hotel Kabuki is on the East side of
Japantown Center, the perfect place for a trip westward to
Stores in Japantown carry a wide variety of stationary supplies.
Photos by Alyssa Cowan
What about Japantown?
A trip through one of San Francisco’s lesser known culture spots

16. 16
see the mall’s other offerings.
The first store I went into was Daiso. It boasted about having
a myriad of household items for $1.50. The tightly packed
store was filled with people bustling about looking for
kitchen utensils, hair barrettes and other different goods. I
noticed an abundance of differently shaped neon Tupperware
boxes for Bento, a packed Japanese meal.
I walked out of the store content with my new purchases
of Chihuahua themed tissue packets, and a bright yellow
package of wet wipes. I moved on to the next place taking
in the abundance of different people in the area. Some were
locals taking part in their culture, and others were tourists or
anime fans dress in bold stripes and dark sweaters.
The anime fans had a lot to choose from. Japan Video
and Media, a video store inside the mall between Buchanan
and Webster Streets, had a wide variety of anime and other
Asian movies. Outside of the store’s entrance was a board,
plastered with a collage of pictures. At first glance many of
them looked like strange people, dawning crazy orange hair
or bright pink maid dresses, but upon further inspection I
realized that they were anime and video game characters.
The pictures were from the Cosplay (dressing as characters
from popular anime or video games) contest held every year
at the Cherry Blossom Festival.
The event occurs every April, and brings out some of the
most carefully crafted and accurate anime and video game
costumes from around the Northern California area. The
costumes can be quite clever at times. While staying at the
Cathedral Hill Hotel (on Van Ness Avenue down the street),
I hopped into an elevator only to be joined by a six foot tall
Wii-mote.
The Cherry Blossom Festival shows other sides of
Japan’s rich culture. The outdoor plaza in the middle of the
mall serves as the perfect area for stage providing spectators
with a the loud rhythmic beats of Taiko drumming, the short
yells and smacking noises of Kendo demonstrations, and
even the pop-music filled live action reenactment of a Sailor
Moon story.
When the attention is not drawn to the events on the plaza,
it’s focused on the parade taking place on Post Street. A
spectator spot is often hard to find, as the street fills with
people. Others peek down from convenient apartments or
hotel rooms. The parade showcases martial arts, dancing,
Taiko drumming, and the candidates for Cherry Blossom
Queen, a pageant for local young women of Japanese decent.
I wandered further into the mall, and found a few stores
that centered around very cute characters like Hello Kitty
and Domo-kun, a brown fuzzy biped that perpetually has an
angry open mouth accompanied by indifferent eyes. Domo-
kun, or Domo for short, is a well known character in Japan,
he’s the mascot for Japan Broadcasting Corporation.
Next door to those stores was the popular store Katachi. It
boasted an offering of sharp weapons and knives. Samurai
swords lined the walls, and shelves in the middle of the
sales floor were filled with different knives. Some had three
blades, some only had one. Another looked like a star as the
blades shot out from the inside, only to be invited back by
the ability to close.
In contrast to the vicious knives, there were small pads
entitled “Buddha Boards.” They employed the use of a long
haired calligraphy brush and water to paint onto a board that
stands up. While the water was still wet, the drawings stayed
on, but as the water dried up the artwork would disappear.
A nice elderly lady, the relative of one of the shopkeepers,
was particularly interested in selling me the object. She
painted a demonstration on the board, speaking in a language
that I didn’t understand. It was easy to tell what she meant,
however, her gestures seemed to say, “Yeah, isn’t that neat?”
and “Look at this one, it’s nice, too.”
The Buddha boards were a clever idea, but I also wanted
to check out some of the materials that would sustain
my writings and drawings for longer. Luckily a after a
walk across the bridge over Webster Street, I arrived at
Kinokuniya Stationary and Gift. The small shop had the
walls all around lined with different kinds of pens, a rainbow
of pencil cases, and every notebook one could imagine. I
picked out a tiny eraser and a notebook with hamsters on
the cover. “Comedian?” it asked, showing a picture of two
hamsters with bowties at a microphone. The cover continued
on, “Please have a wonderful time with this notebook. The
story of pleasant animals.”
After browsing through the stationary store, I decided
that it was time for a little snack. I walked downstairs
and found Kissako Tea. Although previous times I visited
Japantown, I always made a point to seek out the green tea
ice cream, this time I tried out the green tea cheese cake.
With all the options Japantown has to offer, it seems to be
impossible to experience everything even as a frequent
visitor.

17. 17
By Kelly Teemer
It’s 8:30 p.m. on Saturday night in San
Francisco, and my friends and I have yet to eat dinner. We
sit in our bright yellow Embassy hotel room across from city
hall, about two miles west of Union Square. We’re starving,
and we venture off in the pursuit of some gourmet city food.
“We don’t have food like this in Reno,“ my best friend
Paige says. “Food around here is legit.“
This is my first time in the city, and I’m anxious for
a truly fantastic culinary experience. We pass restaurants
boasting the most authentic sushi in San Francisco, the
best Ethiopian cuisine in America -- trendy restaurants
filled with trendier people. Trying to sit down somewhere
is obscene. I’ve never had such a problem trying to find
food. Everywhere we try to get a table, there is a minimum
45-minute wait, and that’s with a reservation. I am trying
desperately to look like a local and I’ve made a complete
tourist of myself. Lesson learned. If you want to sit down at
a restaurant in San Francisco, eat early. I’m just about to give
up and ask the homeless man standing next to me if I could
have half of whatever he’s eating out of the trash.
“I just want something fast,” I moaned to Paige. “I don’t
care what it is at this point.”
“Why don’t we go to this pizza place,” Paige asks. “I ate
here last time in the city and it was seriously epic.”
Blondie’s Pizza, on 63 Powell Street one block from
Market street at the corner of Ellis is, indeed, completely
legit. The pizza parlor also has locations in Berkeley,
Sunriver, Concord and Telegraph. According to Jack Jellers,
a frequent customer, Blondie’s is a Northern California
staple.
Blondie’s boasts “The busiest slice in town,” and follows
through with its consumer promise. Of the eight employees
I can see working, the place is all a-bustle. Dough is tossed
in the air, ovens are constantly being opened and closed,
orders are screamed instead of written down. I asked Ashley
McAllister, a Blondie’s employee of three years, why the
restaurant claims this title.
“I guess the title is pretty self-explanatory,” she said.
“We’re just always busy. I mean, we get tons of customers
because of our location, and I guess all the shopping in union
square makes people hungry.”
It’s not much more than a counter and a few tables and
chairs, but the restaurant can’t be classified as a hole in the
wall because it’s cleaner than that. I approach the menu
and my eyes widen at their selection of gourmet pizza.
The toppings offer a selection of barbecued and marinated
chicken and beef cooked in any style you could want,
including Mexican, Mediterranean, and Hawaiian. The garlic
chicken and magic mushroom pizza are among the most
popular choices. Delicious aromas taunt my olfactory senses
and I find myself drooling a little. I’m embarrassed.
Now comes the hard part, actually choosing what
kind of pizza I want to eat. I asked McAllister what she
recommended for someone who’s from out-of-town but has
an adventurous
pallet.
“I’d try the
pesto chicken
pizza,” she said.
“It’s my personal
favorite.”
I told her
that I was a
vegetarian.
“I’d start
eating meat again
for this,” says
Chris Martinez,
Blondie’s cashier
of eight months.
“Really. Come
on, I dare you.”
I never back
down from a
dare, especially not
for the sake of the
story. I’m starving, so I order two slices of the pesto chicken
and two slices of cheese. McAllister’s eyes widen at my
order.
“You’re kind of little, sweetie. That’s a lot of pizza,”
McAllister warns. I assure her that I have a manly appetite,
and pay for my pizza.
The pizzas come straight out of the oven, so I have to
wait about 10 minutes for my order. I straighten up anxiously
as McAllister brings my order to the table. It takes two
trays. She was right, it is a lot. The pizza slices are absolutely
enormous, about three times the size of a slice from Pizza
Hut. The crust and bottom of the slices are thick and warm.
I bring the cheese pizza to my mouth and actually have to
widen it to take a bite. The cheese and sauce combination
melts in my mouth and I actually find myself closing my
eyes to savor the taste of it. I then go into a frenzy and
rapidly destroy the first piece. I declare myself victorious
when it’s gone. Now it’s time for the pesto chicken. I’ve had
my qualms about eating meat in the past, so I approach this
slice of pizza with trepidation. I take a bite. I’m instantly a
carnivore again.
The pesto sauce is blended with parsley and tastes a
little strong at first. But combined with the marinated grilled
chicken, feta cheese, hearty crust and sauce it is positively
divine. I take my time eating this piece, because it is truly
a delicious meal that should be savored. When this piece
is gone, I feel myself become completely full. Not willing
to be defeated by my own appetite, I spend the next twenty
minutes slowly eating my way through the last two pieces of
my order.
When I’m finished, I hate myself and swear that I will
never eat again. However, I know that I will fail on that
promise because the next time I’m in San Francisco, I will
return to Blondie’s for the best stomach-ache I’ve ever paid
for.
Blondie’s-A Staple
of San Francisco
Gourmet Italian dining in 10 minutes
Blondie’s Pizza, 63 Powell Street.

18. 18
By Brett Corbin
Inside of a bustling center in Japantown, you can find a small
oasis. Kissako is a place where the tradition of Japanese tea is
brought into today’s busy lifestyle.
“Kissako tea is a really unique kind of place where it adds a
different kind of flavor to Japan town,” Thomas Okamura says.
“[Japanese] put a lot of emphasis and value on tea and it still
continues to this day.”
He says that while the tea drinking experience is wonderful in
itself, the Japanese put “emphasis on aesthetics.”
Alan and Iris Macfalane in The Empire of Tea explain that in
Japan “there is no established formal religion; no holy book, no
proper priesthood, no extensive dogma, little interest in the after-
life. Japan is a society where aesthetics and etiquette seem largely
to have taken the place of religion.” While Japanese Americans may
have a different view on religion, the “emphasis on aesthetics” that
Okamura speaks of is still present.
Tea history in Japan dates back to Japanese monks who brought
tea back from the Chinese monasteries. At first it was practiced by
only religious and social elites but later became the place where all,
poor and rich, were considered “one.” Chanoyu which means ‘hot
water for tea’ is the Japanese tea ceremony.
Sipping TeaJapanese Tea Tour Through San Francisco
Free admission Mon, Wed-Fri 9-10 a.m.
Stores in Japantown carry a wide variety of stationary supplies.
Photos by Alyssa Cowan

19. 19
Genmaicha, a green tea made with brown rice, is smooth
and earthy. Okamura says that Macha tea is his favorite.
Macha is a whipped brilliant green tea.
“To me and my generation (Macha) embodies the
tradition,” Okamura explains. “I think globally it is very
recognizable, and I think it tastes good.”
In Golden Gate Park the air is chilly and the surroundings
are quiet. People gracefully sway to the movements of tai chi
under rows of trees. After entering through the gates of the
Japanese Tea Garden, you are transported to the other side of
the world. Birds whistle, water flows and fish swim.
Inside these gardens you can find peace within the city.
While the cost of entry is high ($5 for locals and $7 for
tourists) the price for the serenity found is worth every
penny. The Tea Garden has stone paths through streams filled
with koi fish, temple structures, and round bridges that bring
together architectural elements with natural spectacles. Tea
is served while overlooking the gardens and squirrels wander
into the open gift shop. While there are many tourists, there
is still an element of calm. The gardens seems to put a trance
on the patrons.
Inside of the Westfield Mall in San Francisco, you can
find Lupicia. In this store you can find many flavors of tea in
different forms from around the world. Lupicia has teas from
China, Africa and yes, even Japan. Teas come in loose-leaf
or tea bag form. The workers are very helpful in picking a
selective tea, personally choosing which one could be your
‘cup of tea.’ If you are not able to make it to Westfield you
can order teas from Lupicia at www.lupicia.com.
Japanese tea master Sen no Rikyü stated before his death
that “tea will be reduced to a pitiful state, serving merely
as a worldly amusement.” His prophecy might be true, but
with education and respect the ideals of unity and aesthetics
maybe something that can be reintroduced and respected in
today’s modern society.
Kissako Tea
1581 Webster St # 195
San Francisco, CA 94115-3642
(415) 567-4988
Secret Garden Tea House
721 Lincoln Way, (between 8th & 9th Ave)
San Francisco, CA 94122
415-566-8834
Lupicia Tea Shop
- www.lupiciausa.com
3251 20th Ave # 149, San Francisco - (415) 731-2584
845 Market St, San Francisco - (415) 227-0533

20. 20
By Clint Demeritt
Walking down Mission Street, I am reminded of
the time I spent in Chile.
I always said that the modern metropolis of Santiago
could be mistaken for a U.S. city. After spending a few hours
in the Mission District, I know now I was talking about
this part of San Francisco. In both places, Spanish is more
common than English, and vendors line the streets hawking
decently priced goods.
There are a few differences. The Mission street shops are
converted from San Francisco’s older buildings. One movie
theater has been hollowed out to make room for warehouses
of luggage and other sundry goods.
The most notable difference is that burrito shops crowd
the corners of the district. Chileans consider anything
wrapped in a tortilla Mexican food, but they are wrong.
Here, almost every other store will serve you a burrito,
proving once and for all that heaven truly does exist.
My 18-year-old brother, Clark, accompanied me on my
burrito pilgrimage to this Mexican mecca. A bay native,
running on three months now, Clark has been surveying
the taquería, or taco shop, scene since he moved. He once
declared he would eat a burrito a day while living near the
city.
He has since renounced this mission, probably because
he would like to see 20 with as few heart attacks as possible.
Though he stopped seeking a daily dose of burrito, he agreed
to be my spiritual guide through the burrito-infested streets
of the Mission District, and took me to some of his favorite
Taquerías.
At every stop we split a Super Carne Asada containing
steak, rice, beans, cilantro, onions and salsa. The inclusion
of cheese, sour cream, and guacamole made these burritos
super, but also a dollar pricier. Clark and I forwent the
customary chips served with each meal, knowing we needed
to conserve stomach space.
Burrito quest
Looking for the Mission District’s best burrito
The burrito that Clint ate at Taquería Cancun, a colorful Mexican food place in the Mission District.
Photo by Clint Demeritt

21. 21
Taquería Cancun- $5.99, 2288 Mission St.
Cancun was the most colorful shop we visited. Murals
covered the walls inside the store, and Mexican paper
decorations, called papel picado, hung from the ceiling
depicting various cutout scenes in multitudes of colors. The
restaurant seemed to be in a perpetual state of celebrating the
day of the dead. Though the décor was fabuloso, the burrito
wasn’t as great. Rice and beans dominated the burrito with
a big kick of cilantro. I didn’t taste very much meat in the
burrito, perhaps because my brother got most of it on his
side. The meat I did taste wasn’t very impressive. Clark said
there is a lot of hype around this burrito, but we both agree it
doesn’t live up to its good reputation.
Taquería El Farolito- $5.45, 2779 Mission St.
Though the inside of this burrito joint wasn’t anything
special, the long line was a testament to its quality. After
calling our number in both Spanish and English, Clark
and I eagerly bifurcated the burrito. We both enjoyed a
meaty burrito with a nice balance of rice and beans. The
cooks grilled the steak magnificently to a meaty sweet
spot. This sweet spot is a hot, juicy blend of spice, quality
beef and grease that is hard to describe, but present in any
good burrito. Sour cream was a major theme in the burrito
punctuated by chucks of fresh avocado. The tortilla was
perfectly grilled, soaking up the burrito’s extra grease. The
burrito was pretty greasy, but it was just enough to make its
flavors really sing. Clark said it is one of his favorite burritos,
making me think we will make it back here someday soon.
Papalote Mexican Grill- $7.25, 3409 24th Street
Located a block or two away from Mission Street,
Papalote is a little classier burrito stand, almost mimicking
a small SF coffee shop. The burrito featured big chucks of
meaty goodness, once again hitting that meat sweet-spot
taste. The guacamole added a nice zesty blend of avocado
and spices, and was more present here than with other
burritos. Good quality veggies were packed into the tortilla,
with tomatoes taking center stage, playing their part very
well, counterbalancing the meat. This burrito had a very
clean, non-greasy taste. Though I liked the big meat chunks,
Clark companied they were a bit too big.
Taquería El Castillito- $7.49, 2092 Mission St.
Nearing the end of our burrito binge, Clark and I
ventured off Mission Street to 136 Church St. near the Castro
district. There is a Castillito located on Mission Street,
but we both needed a bit of a burrito break. Though our
stomachs were nearing the breaking point, Clark and I still
managed to enjoy a fine burrito. Make sure you know what
you want before you get to the ordering window. This visit
we encountered a Mexican-themed soup Nazi who overlooks
slow ordering patrons. With small tasty chunks of meat,
the burrito also possessed lots of tomatoes and a cilantro
snappiness. Lots of sour cream made this burrito very wet.
This burrito was a bit on the greasy side, but that isn’t really
a bad thing.
Taquería El Blazo, $9.00, 2187 Mission St.
Though Clark and I didn’t eat here, El Blazo is always
one of my favorite stops on Haight Street. I was delighted
to find they had a Mission Street branch. The Taquería is
one of the most artsy Mexican food places in The City, here
skeleton bicycles adorn the front of the shop. El Blazo
serves a nice meaty burrito, hitting that previously described
sweet spot. The semi-greasy meat is the dominant force in
these burritos, supported admirably by the beans, rice and
other elements present. The burrito is always served with
cabbage salad.
Above, the grill at Taquería El Farolito.
Right, Papalote Mexican Grill
Photos by Clint Demeritt

22. 22
By Emily La Brecque
Traveling with a food allergy or sensitivity is a challenge, but it is not
one that should prevent anyone from indulging in travel. This was my first trip
to San Francisco since my diagnosis with Celiac disease, a condition that affects
one in every 133 Americans, and makes it so I cannot digest wheat gluten. The
city was just as spectacular as I remembered it being and the food was even
better.
I began at Betelnut, located just off of Union Street in the Cows Hollow
district, and surrounded by a variety of interesting shops. It was a beautiful
day; the front of the restaurant had been rolled up so that even people who were
not fortunate enough to have a sidewalk table were able to eat in the open air.
My table was inside but right next to a glassless window that looked out onto
the sidewalk diners. The restaurant which specializes in contemporary Asian
cuisine, particularly street foods has a small but adequate gluten free menu
and a full bar. The food was good, the restaurant was clean, and the waiter was
friendly and attentive despite the extreme business of the restaurant.
Before dinner I pursued the shops of Union Square before walking just up
the street to E & O Trading Company, an Asian style grill. The restaurant was a
little dark, a little loud, and beautifully designed. For me the noise and the low
light along with the dark wood furnishings created an atmosphere that really
did feel like something from the East India Trading Company. The gluten free
Gluten Free San Francisco
Food allergies? No problem in some Bay Area restaurants
Above, duck leg confit ($18) at
E&O Trading Company in San Francisco.
Photo by Emily La Brecque

23. 23
menu was extensive and offered options for every course.
Their homemade Ginger ale ($3) bears no resemblance to
the grocery store variety; it was light and crisp with just
a subtle tang of carbonation. My companion and I shared
the five-spice duck confit ($18) and the lemongrass risotto
($10), which complimented each other as well as out
waiter promised that they would. The leg of duck was well
seasoned with crispy skin and came on a bed of red cabbage.
The risotto had edamame in it with added just the right
amount of texture, but it also had a tasty looking but inedible
lemongrass garnish. The portions were a bit small for the
two of us, as our waiter mentioned that they might be, so we
ended with a dessert. I do not often get to indulge in a real
dessert while eating out, if I get anything at all it is usually
just sorbet or ice cream. This is not so at E&O where they
gave me a long lists of choices that they could modify to suit
my needs. The panna cotta with blueberry sauce ($8) was a
delightfully creamy way to end the meal.
For breakfast I was excited to try Café Gratitude, a
nearly completely gluten free restaurant which boasts gluten
free sandwiches, bagels, and pie among other things. The
plan was to visit the café before touring the De Young
Museum. The museum is in the massive and fascinating
Golden Gate Park. The museum entrance is only a few
blocks from the café. I walked enjoying the ornate and
brightly colored Victorian town houses on the way, but I
never found the restaurant. As it turns out, Café Gratitude has
been relocated Harrison Street in the Castro District. I’m sure
that it’s worth a visit, but it will have to wait.
After a long day of exploring ancient cultures at the
De Young Museum I was hungry and ready to experience
some modern culture. Located on the outskirts of the Japan
Center, Dosa serves Southern Indian food in an upscale
contemporary atmosphere. We were seated immediately, but
only because we had reservations. The restaurant was bright
and crowded. My table was so close to its neighbor that the
waiter had to move it to one side as I slid into my seat. What
the restaurant lacks in space it more than makes up for with
its menu. Their special dietary needs menu caters to not
only the gluten intolerant but also vegans, nut allergies, and
to those who cannot eat eggs, dairy products, or asafetida.
All but one of their curries is gluten free, as are all of their
uttapams, and all but two of their dosas.
One of the things that I have missed most since I learned
that I had Celiac Disease is trying new and exotic foods. I
use to walk into a restaurant and order something I had never
tried before or even heard of. Dosa gave me the opportunity
to do that again. My companion ordered the paper masala
dosa ($11) and I ordered the caramelized onion uttapam
($10.50). A Dosa is something like and enormous crepe
made of rice flour, most come
folded over a filling, but paper
dosas are thinner, crispier, and
come rolled up with the filling
on the side. An uttapam is like
a large pancake with the filling
cooked into it. Both came with
two dipping sauces and a cup
of soup. Of the two sauces one
was white and sweetened with
coconut milk and the other was
spiced with a tomato base. Both
the dosa and the uttapam felt like
something that I should definitely
not be eating, which made them
delicious. Silverware is provided
but diners are encouraged to
eat with their hands. The dosa
and the uttapam were delicious,
extremely filling, and not too
spicy. I enjoyed them both but I
preferred the texture of the paper
dosa to that of the slightly heavier, greasier uttapam.
Although I was incredibly full after my meal I could not
resist the appeal of a gluten free dessert, so I ordered the
sweet pongal ($7). Sweet pongal is a sort of rice pudding
with cardamom and raisins in it. The desert was beautiful
and the flavors of the pudding were all right but the raisons
overpowered the flavor of the cardamom and the texture was
gritty. We left the restaurant, and part of the pongal uneaten.
Later that night I indulged in a more satisfying desert at
the Ghirardelli Ice Cream and Chocolate Shop in Ghirardelli
square. The shops on the square all close at nine so I headed
strait to the ice cream shop where the line of customers
stretched out the door. I was about to leave when I noticed a
second entrance to the right that lead to the chocolate shop
where there was no line, and where I purchased a box of
delicious gluten free walnut fudge.
With a little bit of notice most upscale restaurants will
cater to almost any special diet. I always make reservations
at opentable.com, a website which not only makes getting a
reservation simple, it also allows me to inform the restaurant
that I need to dine gluten free before I arrive. I made
reservations for Dosa and E & O Trading Company online
and both not only had a gluten free menu waiting for me
upon my arrival, my waiter already been informed of and
understood my condition. Dining in a new city whether you
are traveling for pleasure or on business does not have to be
a stressful experience, especially not in a city with as many
amazing gluten free options as San Francisco.
Betelnut * Cows Hollow
www.betelnutrestaurant.com
(415) 929-8855
2030 Union St
Café Gratitude
cafegratitude.com
(415) 824-4652
2400 Harrison St
E&O * Union Square
www.eotrading.com
(415) 693-0303
312 Sutter St
Dosa
dosasf.com
Dosa * Valencia
Mission District
(415) 642 3672
995 Valencia (@ 21 St)
Dosa * Fillmore
Japan Town
(415) 441 3672
1700 Fillmore (@ Post)
Ike’s Place
www.ilikeikesplace.com
(415) 553-6888
3506 16th St
Ghirardelli Ice Cream and
Chocolate Shop
Ghirardelli Square
www.ghirardelli.com
(415) 474-3938
Marnee Thai
Near Golden Gate Park
1243 9th
Avenue
(415) 731-9999
Amici’s East Coast
Pizzeria
amicis.com
(415) 546-6666
216 King Street
(415) 885-4500
2200 Lombard Street
Gluten Free Grub

24. 24
Story and photos by Sansan Cao
The Golden Gate Park provides San Francisco
pedestrians with an ideal area to walk and enjoy the
sightseeing. It’s home to one of the best gardens San
Francisco has to offer -- the Conservatory of Flowers.
If you are taking a car, park at the Music Concourse
Garage and enter at 10th
Avenue. It is open seven days a
week, from 7:30 a.m. to 10 p.m. and charges $2.75 per hour,
or $3.75 per hour on weekends. The San Francisco buses
also have many stops at the park, so check out Muni maps or
sfmuni.com ahead of time.
There are great museums such as the DeYoung Museum
and the California Academy of Sciences. They are pricy
with tickets in the $50 range. But don’t be discouraged, the
park offers free shows, exhibits and public gardens all year
round.
The Conservatory of Flowers. It sits on top of a perfectly
manicured hill overlooking the park. The building resembles
a large white birdcage decorated with elaborate Victorian
arches and a high-rising dome. Inside awaits exotic ferns,
blooms and fruits. The building is sectioned into five
exhibits serving each gallery a certain temperature and
humidity. The Conservatory’s white color helps reduce heat
intensity from the sun and saves energy. Environmentally
friendly geckoes kept the exhibits pest free. The
conservatory offers four permanent exhibits: the Lowland
Tropics, the Highland Tropics, the Aquatic Plants and the
Potted Plants.
The Conservatory is located at the far eastern end of the
park. It is open Tuesday through Sunday from 9 a.m. to 5
p.m. A self-guided tour through the magnificent forestry
of almost every continent costs only $5 per student and $7
regular admission. Its Web site, conservatoryofflowers.org,
contains more detailed visiting information.
The Lowland Tropics resembles a rainforest of large,
slick-leaved trees, ferns with long blades, vines and bright
flowers. The oldest plants, gymnosperms, which have
inhabited the Earth for almost 400 million years, grow
here. The prized exhibit leads from the entrance of the
Conservatory.
The Highland Tropics more resembles a swamp. The
forest sits in a deep pit with mosses, crawling vines and hairy
trees growing wildly. The exhibit also showcases hundreds
of exotic orchids ranging in all colors of white, burgundy and
magenta.
The Potted Plants exhibit holds rare flowers and trees.
They are artistically arranged and very diverse. If you visit
often enough, you can see the exhibit change seasonally with
color themes making it the perfect area for picture taking.
When entering the Aquatic Plants, you might find it difficult
to breath because the water-saturated air. The humidity is
perfect for Amazon water lilies. They sit in a glass tank and
the roots can be seen underneath the water. These lilies can
reach as deep as 30 feet under water and the lily pad can
hold almost 100 pounds. This exhibit also has magnificent
carnivorous plants such as the Asian pitcher plant and the
strangler fig.
The fifth exhibit specializes in displaying changing
galleries. This season it showcases Edible Expeditions.
Over fifty species of native crops from Asia, Pacific islands,
and the Americas thrive here. Seeing pineapple, lychee, and
rice here is nothing like buying them in a grocery store. This
exhibit lets you see how the fruits grow and teaches you the
Conservatory of FlowersA spiritual and intellectual tour

25. 25
economic importance of preserving these dying species from
globalization of cash crops.
As you go through each exhibit, immerse yourself into
the environment. Breath the air, smell the flowers and
examine the leaves and petals. Be honored to see so much
of what Mother Earth has to offer. Remember, many of
these plants are endangered and rare. Economic pressure
for clearing lands for farms continue to destroyed the forests
these plants were brought from. Take that reminder with you
when you leave the Conservatory.
Tips for Travel
Plan your routes ahead of time as much as you can. Even if you plan to
be spontaneous, bring a map because even San Franciscans get lost in
their own city.
You will do a lot of walking no matter your mode of transportation so
bring a sweater or jacket for sudden cold winds.
If you are hungry, make a visit to Haight and Ashbury for good eats.
Union Square has lots of shopping but is scarce in good eateries.
Left, bright orchids in the Highland Tropics exhibit; lychee hanging
from a tree branch from Asia in the Edible Exhibition exhibit. Below,
the entrance to the Conservatory of Flowers at Golden Gate Park
and The Lowland Tropics exhibit.
Photos by Sansan Cao

26. 26
By Kevin Henry
When visiting the big city, it is surprisingly easy to
get lost in the wilderness. While not technically wilderness,
1,017 acre Golden Gate Park in San Francisco’s twisting
paths and towering canopies certainly emulates the great
outdoors. Just as long as you forget that the outlet stores of
Market St. and the skyscrapers of the financial district are
less than five miles away. Aside from the beautiful gardens
and serene waterfalls, the most interesting thing about
Golden Gate Park is the tiny, modern urban square at the
heart of the park.
At 8:00 in the morning, the Music Concourse of Golden
Gate Park is a misty and peaceful place. The major museums
and tourist destinations of the area haven’t opened, and the
still morning air creates a perfect atmosphere for Tai Chi and
the local population takes advantage. Middle-aged to elderly
people practicing a martial art with swords, sticks and fists
fits inside the calmness of a park, but you wouldn’t expect
Tai Chi to be practiced in a courtyard that it is flanked by two
of the most modern and exciting examples of architecture in
the city.
Contrasting against the eucalyptus and ferns of the
park are two museums at the forefront of architectural
progression. The de Young museum, created by the world-
famous architectural pair behind the Beijing National
Stadium, sticks out amongst the foliage like a giant copper
temple from an ancient civilization. In reality, it was
created in 2005 after its predecessor was wiped out by an
earthquake. The museum is stunning from the outside. Its
raw-looking copper walls are perforated and give the illusion
of being able to see through the museum, almost making the
museum look like it was constructed from grass and twigs.
The palm trees and unique, almost tribal-like sculptures in
the courtyard pair with the museum to make visitors feel as
if they were
entering
a relative
of Angkor Wat, another ancient forest temple. The copper
walls will eventually turn green from oxidization, which was
planned from the start by the architects. The museum houses
art and natural history exhibits such as Tutankhamun, but
the real draw of the museum is the twisted Hamon Tower.
Coincidentally, an elevator ride to the top is free unlike the
exhibit which cost $27.50. Once at the top of the tower,
a triangular observation deck gives visitors a 360-degree
view of San Francisco and the rest of Golden Gate Park.
The observation deck also provides a wonderful view of the
newly remodeled California Academy of Sciences across the
courtyard.
The Academy of Sciences is the second half of the duo of
modern buildings that create the unique urban environment
that fits so well inside a big forest inside of a huge urban
environment. The inside is a standard tourist trap and field
trip destination, mostly unchanged since it was the Steinhart
Aquarium aside from a new planetarium and natural
history museum. The real exciting and can’t-miss part of
the California Academy of Sciences is its roof. Designed to
blur the difference between park and building, the roof is
dotted with space-aged domes covered in plants and solar
cells and looks like it was inspired by science fiction more
so than modern architecture. There is access to the roof of
the building from the museum after the $25 entry fee is paid.
However, a free and much better view can be achieved from
the aforementioned observation deck of the Hamon Tower in
the de Young Museum.
Originally, the city of San Francisco was apprehensive
about the creation of the de Young museum. General
sentiment was that the sanctity of the park would be
tarnished by the copper structure, and the location of the
San Francisco’s
El Dorado
Stumbling upon an oasis of urban
architecture in Golden Gate Park
Golden Gate Park, left, the De Young Museum, above.
Photos by Kevin Henry

27. 27
museum was nearly moved to the financial district. However
support for the museum has been strong since its opening
and it has been a popular destination for tourists since.
Escaping from the confines of a big city into the wilderness
is a great thing. Emerging from behind the boughs of
the eucalyptus forest and discovering a world of urban
imagination is even greater.
Japanese Tea Garden
Admission: $5 Adult $3 Senior & Youth Child $1.50. Located at the
Northwest corner of the Music Concourse, the Japanese Tea Garden
is yet another piece of the peaceful Golden Gate Park. Running water
and waterfalls amongst the bonsai trees and koi-filled ponds put your
mind at ease and allow you to get your Zen on, if you can concentrate
on the beauty instead of the other tourists. A gift shop sells Japanese
memorabilia and the café offers tea that you can sip while surveying your
surroundings. A trip around the whole garden can take up to an hour if
you like taking pictures, and are easily distracted by squirrels.
San Francisco Botanical Garden
Admission: Free. Plant nerds and green thumbs will enjoy the
botanical garden more than any other attraction in the park. Collections
of all kinds of plants sorted geographically create an exciting tour for
those interested. Collections of plants native to Chile, Australia, South
Africa and more are in the garden. Exotic and interesting species
of plants can be found here and it is much less crowded than the
surrounding areas. Also, the free admission makes the botanical gardens
the perfect place for a cheap college student who is interested in plants
and geography, if there are any more of you out there.
Dutch Windmills
Admission: Free. On the far west end of Golden Gate Park, these
two behemoths used to pump massive amounts of water into the
surrounding park to create the forested wonderland that is there
today. Now they serve only as historic structures and as a sign of how
devastating the San Francisco climate can be to a century old wooden
building. The North windmill has been recently restored and dwarfs
over the Queen Wilhelmina Tulip Garden, and faces west towards the
nearby beach.
The south
windmill is
currently
being
renovated
and is
strangely
absent from
the park.
Above, the San Francisco Botanical Garden; below left, Japanese
Tea Garden and Dutch Windmills.

28. 28
Soaking in the sunshine
at Dolores Park.
Photo by Tyler Keck
By Matt Sala
Houses, churches and schools that could have
been transported from nineteenth century Spain are nestled
gently among houses that resemble suburbs of Guadalajara.
The dusky sun lays the Spanish shadows gently onto the
steps of more modern brick and concrete accented with
flowers and foliage that keep my eyes rolling even further
down the hill, toward the bay, where consumer-fueled
concrete phalli penetrate the sky as to defy the inevitability
of being swallowed into a fault line or eroded away by the
majestic blue beyond them.
“I feel all of that,” Tyler Keck said as we enjoyed the
view east onto the city the moment before an October sunset
at Dolores Park. “Literally, in my legs and my back. My
body has moved me everywhere today.”
We had been riding our bikes for the majority of the last
eight hours. We had begun our day across the bay, further
than we could even see from the Spanish vista. That was the
idea, though. Pedaling our way around the Bay. Conceiving a
car-free conception, for travelers, of one of the world’s most
bike-friendly metropolitan areas.
Keck and I have known each other for years. Not as
close friends, but as continuous acquaintances via academics
and small artsy social circles in Reno. Keck decided to
come with me to the Bay Area less than 24 hours before we
left in response to a message to the masses I submitted on
Facebook, which was awesome because he was my ride, had
gratuitous accommodations and became my photographer.
Facebook was a last resort and while it was the most
effective networking tool, there are others. Craigslist.org has
a community rideshare post that I also received options to
travel with courteous strangers only asking for gas-money
and a companion. As for a place to rest your weary head after
the long drive that involved getting to know someone new,
try couchsurfing.com. Both of these services are free and
internationally trusted. Word to the wise, the early bird has
more worms to choose from. Meaning, the more notice you
can give to the people who are potentially going to help you
out on these Web sites, the larger that potential becomes.
The idea of spinning yourself around San Francisco
can be intimidating. The reality is that anyone can pedal
around the bay area and cycling is likely the easiest way
to navigate the tiny city confined by its walls of water. The
weightlessness derived from not having the baggage of an
automobile in a cluttered city like San Francisco is enough
A Pedaler’s Perspective
A biker views the city

29. 29
to lift you to the top of any
hill. Though, reflecting on
the asphalt obstacle course
below from the perch of
Dolores Park, our journey felt
impressive.
We woke up that morning
in downtown Berkeley, near
the University (UC Berkeley).
Keck’s friend Greg Spydell,
who generously sheltered us
for the weekend, took us to his
favored morning rendezvous,
Au Coquelet. Walking in the
wood-framed glass doors, an
array of fresh pastries invites
you left, toward the espresso
bar. The sweet bread and
caramelized coffee blankets the
front room, meant for more casual café goers, with a fireside
comfort. Intellects converse about physics, environmental
concerns and future city happenings behind me while
two tables away a couple waxes poetic to each other in
Japanese. Beyond the front room, there is a more full-on
dining experience to be had in the back half of Au Couquelet
and this bohemian brasserie on University Avenue is open
everyday from 6a.m. to 1a.m.
Eating the last buttery bite of a croissant, I exit onto
University Avenue. Greg informs us of the closest BART
station location and departs. Keck and I point toward the
Berkeley campus, which is only a couple blocks away, and
begin pedaling. Crossing Shattuck (a buzz-worthy street
bordering the Berkeley campus) we decide to digress.
We lock the bikes up outside Half-Price Books, a quaint
bookstore lined with wooden shelves and the thick matted
carpet found in many childcare centers unloading media
at 50-70 percent off the retail price. After perusing some
paperbacks, we walk a block down Shattuck to the Missing
Link bicycle co-op.
The worker-owned bike shop has a friendly vibe and
has been around for over 36 years. The prices on any
accessory or necessity are low and they even have loaner
tools and public workspace where you can repair (or learn
how to repair) your bike. They also carry maps of the
bicycle boulevards, which are designated roads for bikes
(sometimes they even consist of car-free segments) and are
knowledgeable about how to navigate the east bay effectively
and comfortably. These maps are what I was looking for.
“We’ve got them. Are you trying to get anywhere in
particular,” Dan Bondonno said in response to my request.
“Just around,” I replied. “Anything I shouldn’t miss out
on near here?”
“You’re in a pretty awesome area but if you want to go
for a nice ride you should head to Temescal,” Bondonno
advised.
I thanked him for the map and the recommendation and
hopped back in the saddle.
Pedaling a little more than two blocks we entered the UC
Berkeley campus. The roar of a drum troupe vibrated under
the melodic sonnet of the clock tower bells rejoicing in the
noon hour. Birds, squirrels and backpacks with wheels all
seemed to be harmonizing together for an audience of trees
with branches as aged as fossils, textured with rhinoceros
skin, growing with the grace of Egyptian dancers.
“Berkeley breaths culture at a relaxed pace,” Greg
Spydell had said earlier at Au Couquelet. “If you’re into
more intellectually stimulating social activity, it’s all about
the East Bay.”
I felt stimulated by Berkeley, but Greg was right about
the relaxed pace. People seemed so relaxed as to appear
borderline lazy but something was always happening. A
cause was always being taken up.
“Let’s cross some water,” Keck said as we exited the
campus. So we headed to the downtown Berkeley BART
station.
“You can take your bikes into any car but the first one,”
the attendant said, as I looked puzzled at the machine
dispensing tickets.
From downtown Berkeley to the Embarcadero the
BART cost us $3.65 each. The trip took nearly forty minutes
(almost half of which was wait time). A large diverse crowd,
so quiet it was almost intimidating, filled the train. They
interacted with their various robots, which created a colorful
buzz that hummed delightfully in tune with the train itself, as
we rolled across west Oakland and under water to our next
destination.
We popped out of the cinematic subway in front of the
Ferry building, a breathing organism of weekend tourists and
patiently irritated locals. Fresh-roasted coffee wafting around
the corner from Blue Bottle coffee company danced with
the scents of pesticide-free fruits and freshly baked pastries
underneath a myriad of blue umbrellas. Enjoying a $3
cappuccino, I asked a cute girl with her right pant leg rolled
up how she would get to the Mission District.
“Riding my bike, I like to go up Market,” she said
without hesitation. “Take a left on Dolores and once you hit
16th
or so, you’ll be in the Mission District.”
The streets in the Mission District are colorful and
alive. Even the alleys are pulsating with painted murals,
reflecting culture, politics and social ideas. The sidewalks are
smothered with a young demographic and bike parking is a
scarcity. Pedaling up quite the appetite, we stop at Taqueria
El Buen Sabor on Valencia at 18th
for some authentic tacos.
The warm room, saturated with the smells of cilantro and
onion, has three community-style wooden tables where you
can enjoy rubbing elbows with strangers while eating the
messiest meal you’ll have all day. Esta muy sabrosa.
Keck and I, with our full bellies, wandered around
the Mission District for an hour or so, getting coffee and
checking out the locals’ spokes, before deciding to enjoy the
sunset at Dolores Park. As the blue sky marbled into purples
and pinks, our wheels pointed back toward the East Bay.

30. 30
Bay Area Rapid Transit: bart.gov
Maps, times, costs and a wealth of resources for planning a trip using
the BART. The system is pro-rated based on how far you go. Up-to-date track
maintenance information and an online fare calculator assist you in finding the
quickest cheapest route to wherever you want to go.
Missing Link: www.missinglink.org
The Web site is full of tools to make cycling in the Bay Area better.
A video tour of the bicycle boulevards:
www.steephill.tv/2007/berkeley-bicycle-blvds
Box Dog Bikes: www.boxdogbikes.com
A principled bike cooperative in San Francisco’s Mission district.
--Matt Sala
Getting around
Photos by Tyler Keck

31. 31
By Alyssa Cowan
I woke up in the morning to find three strangers in
my room. I picked up a change of clothes and left the room
shutting the door quietly. After changing my clothes in a
nearby bathroom, I grabbed my bag and left hoping that I
didn’t wake anyone up. Being polite to three other people
in your room is one of the challenges one has to face in a
hostel. It’s not your typical hotel stay, that’s for sure.
Hostels provide a budget-conscious choice for travelers
(for two nights the total came to about $60), but the real
experience comes from the interaction with different types
of people. While staying in the Green Tortoise Hostel, I
met people from Australia, Finland and Croatia. That was
only a small portion of the countries that were represented.
One evening I found myself chatting with a self proclaimed
professional street performer. I was able to meet all of the
members of his one-man band.
It was an interesting experience, to say the least, but
it didn’t come without its difficulties. The neighborhood
around the area was distasteful at best. Lining the street were
strip clubs of every different type, and accompanying police
officers to keep all of the testosterone from getting out of
control.
Parking was another whole issue as well. There were a
few parking lots within walking distance from the hostel, but
none appeared to be overnight. My friends and I ended
up settling for a parking lot next to the Embarcadero, and
waking up before 6 a.m. to get the car before the pass
expired.
With a car, a good choice to save your sanity may just be
a hotel. Around the city there is a wide variety of different
types of hotels. The cheaper end of the spectrum ranges
from about $100 to $150, depending on what night you stay.
The advantage to staying at a hotel is that most places in the
city will either give you some free parking, or arrange for
overnight parking (expect around $20 per day).
For those brave enough to become subway navigators,
another even cheaper option is available. The room rates
closer to the South San Francisco area are lower, and parking
is an easier find. The rooms in this area are around $40
less than in the city. The BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit)
provides an excellent way to get back and forth, but beware
of time if you choose to take this route. The BART does not
operate after midnight.
A trip to San Francisco can be a pain on your wallet, but
it doesn’t have to be. Finding deals in lodging is all a matter
of deciding what kind of experience you’re looking for, and
how you’d like to get around. The hotel will keep your car
safe from getting towed, but it won’t provide the experience
of meeting some interesting people or the low price.
Bargain
Lodging
in San
Francisco
Ups and downs of
budget accommodations

32. 32
By Ana Luiza V. da Silva
When first walking on Telegraph Avenue in
Berkeley, Marisa Nantes and Fernanda Souza had the same
feeling: “What an odd place.” When first arriving on that
avenue, a person might wonder where all the weird people
came from. On Telegraph, you can see how people acting
and dressing crazily. It seems like they express their feeling,
their values, proclaiming their believes in peace and love by
passing them on the streets. I felt enthusiastic for this peculiar
environment. The fronts of restaurants, grocery, books and
clothes stores have an unconventional -- kind of dirty --
colorful design. You can really experience the energy of a
hippie atmosphere. Almost everything on Telegraph is made
for hippies or students from the University of California,
Berkeley.
I left Reno with two friends, Nantes and Souza. We drove
all the way to Berkeley. When we got there, we parked our
car on Dwight Way. We walked in the direction of Telegraph
Avenue going through “People’s Park.” It had a big green
grass yard with some trees and flowers, also a table for picnic
and public bathroom. We saw people sleeping, eating, talking,
and doing yoga. Some appeared homeless and acted strangely.
We saw a guy doing a bridge with his body and we got a little
imprested because he acted abnormal. Two steps further we
saw the sign “Drugs free at the park.” Then we understood the
big picture of “People’s Park.”
“This is Berkeley,” I thought.
Berkeley had legalized marijuana in 1979, with “The
Marijuana Ordinance II.” The enforcement of cannabis
laws allowed residents to grow and smoke marijuana for
their personal use only. Anyone, who prove their need of
marijuana for treatment of glaucoma, chemotherapy, side
effects, and other medical problems, get a card which allow
them to carry and smoke herb. The town, especially around
the UC Berkeley campus, has a long history of protests and
Telegraph Avenue, Berkeley
Smells like eccentric hippie spirit

33. 33
hippie movement especially in the ’60s. President Ronald
Reagan called the Berkeley campus “a heaven of communist
sympathizers and deviants.”
The UC Berkeley is located at the north end of Telegraph
Avenue. The bizarre mosaic of students, hippie vendors,
weird people, homeless, kids, animals, local restaurants and
stores shocked my friends.
“I’m impressed with all these crazy atmosphere,” Nantes
said. All these people expressing themselves, in diverse ways
made me think about how everyone can be so different from
each others. Some people were wearing clothes that looked
like they might be from the ’70s. One woman passed in front
of us wearing boots, a white top and short shorts. I could
even see a little piece of her butt. For a second I felt like I’d
stepped back in time 40 years.
Close to the intersection of Telegraph and Durant Street,
we found a Thai restaurant called Thai Noodle II. Inside,
the place had a modern chandelier, red wall, a panel with all
the dishes, some tables and a long kitchen in the middle of
the room. It also had a good atmosphere with nice music.
It kept our attention. On the menu, they had a complete list
of appetizers, salads, soups, Thai noodle soup, pan fried
noodle, Thai rice plate, desserts and beverages. Prices varied
between $5-$9, perfect for a broke international student like
me, I thought. I chose a beef curry.
The waiter served my red curry in a white bowl, with rice
on the side. The curry was full of meat, bamboo, green and
red peppers, green beans and basil on the top. It was spicy;
the meat was soft and the rice very white. The chef had the
meat fried before and he didn’t leave it boiling in the curry
sauce for a long time. I could tell because some pieces were a
little harder, but still the dish was delicious. I ate everything.
After finished, I spoke with Decha Poemprachuim, my
waiter. He came from Thailand, like the 20 other employees
including the owner.
“We need to be from Thailand to understand Thai food,”
he said. Poemprachuim told me that the food was Thai
cuisine but different from the original recipes. He said that
many restaurants like Asian, Vietnamese and Thai food have
adapted their menu to American customers.
“I cook the same recipe at home but using different spice
condiments,” he said. “Interesting,” I thought, however for
me, it would probably be hard to eat original spicey Thai
food.
Continuing walking though the street, I saw the legendary
Blakes on Telegraph. The place still exists after about 50
years on the same street. The owner just changed once from
Larry Blakes to Harry Kelly. At the beginning, the pub had
famous blues musicians coming over. Along the years, the
style of music changed for rock’n roll played by local bands
and DJs.
At the first sight, inside, Blakes looks like almost any
other bar. The alternative and hallucinogenic art on the
walls reminds me that I am in this peculiar place: Telegraph
Avenue in Berkeley, Calif.
Manager Josh Rosenberg said his custumers are mostly
students and alternative kids. I saw some young and older
people drinking and eating. Rosenberg told me about the
various kinds of shows: hip hop, electroni, and rock music.
The house has hosted famous musicians like Cyndi Lauper,
John Lee Hooker, Etta James and Stone Temple Pilots.
“This is the place to hear good rock,” said Rosenberg. In
that moment, I realize that Telegraph is a good place to live.
Anyone who understands all the events that had happened at
Telegraph Avenue before, would be amazed with the peculiar
atmosphere at the
street.
Soaking in the sunshine at Dolores Park.
Photo by Tyler Keck
By Kathy Grimm-Tucker
Some people like the smell of a new book, but
there are some who like the smell of a used book. They can
smell all the old paper they want, in Berkeley, California’s
bookstores.
Moe’s Books has been located at 2476 Telegraph
Avenue since the 1960’s, during the time of the anti-war
demonstrations that made Berkeley famous. They buy
hundreds of books a day and pride themselves in paying
well for quality books. They are located four blocks from the
University of California, Berkeley campus. They request that
those interested in selling their libraries give them a call to
negotiate a price.
They epitomize the uniqueness of Berkeley by being
an independent store that has thrived for over 50 years,
even during these economic times. They have hundreds of
thousands of books, some that are very rare. It’s a fun place
to browse with varying titles bought from interesting people.
Moe’s holds readings, that famous authors not only speak at
but also attend. Moe’s Books is open from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m.
every day. Send an e-mail to books@moesbooks.com.
Across the street from Moe’s Books is Shakespeare & Co.
bookstore, at 2499 Telegraph Avenue. They opened in 1968.
Workers say they beat the opening of Moe’s Books by six
months. The store sells new and used books, but it is perhaps
best known for the treasures that can be found in their used
books. They buy and sell college textbooks too, so students
can get a deal on their course needs.
Hours of operation are Monday through Thursday, 10 a.m.
to 8 p.m., Friday and Saturday 10 a.m. to 9 p.m., and Sunday
11 a.m. to 8 p.m. Their telephone number is (510) 841-8916.
Book Hunt
Hunting for text in Berkeley

34. 34
By Kevin Henry
I had only been on the streets
of San Francisco for a few minutes when I
experienced the hospitality and friendship that
only a major city can provide. I walked past an
apartment building on Broadway St. between
a strip club and a head shop as a hurried young
man left it.
Seconds later I was deafened by the
slamming of an iron gate in front of the
building. As I was recovering from the shock
I noticed a particularly chic looking couple in
sweaters and leather jackets with shiny police
badges hanging from their neck.
What ensued was a conversation I never
witnessed before; two men yelling at each other
on an extremely busy street filled with Friday
night clubbers.
The conversation went something like
this: “Don’t be slammin’ doors,” said the male
policeman.
To which the skuzzy man replied, “Don’t
come at me like that, nigga!” This exchange
continued as the young man all but ran down
the street and the two police officers strolled
casually alongside the clubs.
When I say continued, I mean that each
man repeated the same declaration at least three
times. Once the distance between the two grew
to more than a city block, they both decided
to end their polite conversation, much to the
chagrin of the 50 other people staring at them
with a confused smile.
To be fair, I’m not really sure if everyone
else found it as fascinating as I did, simply
because I was too enthralled with what had just
happened to survey how everyone else was
reacting.
Heard on the street in SF

35. 35
By Megan Maghsadi
I ended my weekend in San Francisco
at the Moulin Café, formerly the Moulin Rouge
Café until the movie people threatened to sue for
infringement rights. The tiny, aged café has been
around since the 1970’s and the décor hasn’t
changed since. Our party of three waited outside
prompted by a sign on the window inside where
you could watch the cook that read, “Please don’t
stand and wait here, it makes the cook nervous.”
Outside, a portly local wearing a Pink Floyd
t-shirt, jean shorts and flip-flops, and who
frequented the joint for years, gave us his take on
the Moulin.
“Believe me, it’s worth the wait,” he
prompted.
Curiosity piqued, I asked, “What should I
get?”
The man looked me up and down for 30
uncomfortable seconds before replying, “You
look like a fruit girl and they have an amazing
fresh fruit plate.”
Clearly he misread my level of hunger but I
appreciated the effort.
After waiting 20 minutes, we were seated.
Two minutes after we sat, we ordered. An hour
after we ordered our food showed up. I feasted
on an unimpressive spinach omelet with what
was supposed to be Swiss cheese in it. The hash
browns were decent. One of my companions
bitched because his corned-beef hash was from
a can.
“I’ll never come back,” he said.
That is the consensus on the Moulin Café,
such promise but no delivery. I haven’t ruled out
going back to try the fruit plate.
Not so worth the wait

36. 36
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