I'll admit for as close as I am to it, I really don't know San Francisco very well. It took me until my third semester before I knew how to drive home from San Francisco State University. However, with a new dedication to know and a little help from motorcycle, San Francisco is becoming more and more accessible to me.
Gogar and I set out for Grace Cathedral late one July afternoon. Since this was July in an El Nino year, I was lucky not to need my scarf. We found parking no problem.
The first thing we noticed was that no statues graced the front entrance, although their seemed to be places for them. Lots and lots of places. Gogar conjectured that perhaps they had been removed for restoration.
The inside of GC is more inviting than any church I have every happened across. You enter through one or two side doors. We entered toward the right, and found a new project they have going for an altar and sanctuary to commemorate those who have passed on or are suffering due to AIDS (either are inflicting with the disease or some one in your life is). A large placard explained GC felt a need for such a space and the details of what they hoped would be included in the sanctuary. Above the intended space for the altar hung a square from the AIDS quilt. Below the square was the beginnings of a memorial book, listing names and dates of those who have passed from this world because of AIDS.
It was confirmed, GC is no ordinary church. The reason I had even thought of checking it out was I had caught the end of an interview on the Sci-Fi channel about the labyrinths they had installed. The cathedral itself was very hushed, but a hubbub of activity surrounded the labyrinth which was just inside the front entrance. A large kiosk stood to the left side which detailed the conception and creation of this labyrinth, and the historical uses of them. It even noted the labyrinth at Sibly. The kiosk explained how one takes a the journeyfrom inward walking, to receptive center, to contemplative exit.
Gogar and I ended up walking around the rest of the cathedral grounds, the side sanctuaries, viewing the immense organs, and marveling and the stunning windows. I picked up a flyer for their "Metropolis" showing, complete with original organ score, played live. Yes, this is a Religious Place.
Finally, once outside, we walked the outdoor labyrinth. I didn't get any earth-shattering enlightenment, although another woman walking the path seemed to be deeply dedicated to the effort.
After such an effort to access one's soul, I decided I needed coffee, so we dashed off to North Beach. I have a thing for North Beach, my grandfather and great aunt were born and raised there.
On Columbus (where else?) we found Stella's, a smallish cafe dealing in a variety of drink and authentic Italian pastries. As much as the pastries called to my childhood, I refrained, choosing to enjoy my iced-tall-single-non-fat-mocha solo. And enjoy I did! No chocolate syrup in this baby, no sir! Just divine cocoa, the way it ought to be. We lingered over our drinks, listening to the jazz being played further up Columbus. So this is why people love San Francisco so?
Leaving Stella's, we spied City Lights Books. No, ladies and gents, this bookworm had hardly heard of the place, much less ever had stepped through the threshold. I could have died and gone to . . . where ever. City Lights reminded my of old San Jose days, getting lost in the shelves of Books, Inc. I found a book of Italian Fairytales I must return to purchase, and gawked that the entire wall dedicated to Literary Theory. This was not the sleekness of Cody's where real literature is shoved against one wall to make way for travel books and Blank-blank for Dummies, nor was the picked over relics of Moe's. City Lights had selection, had random titles I only ever saw on the bargain shelf at Barnes and Noble, but most of all this place had character. Next time I have the urge to splurge, I will definitely head to San Francisco.
To top off this glorious day, Gogar and I found a burrito joint that's open until 2 am on the weekends; none other than Wop Wraps (of course) on Columbus.