Chinese Lace and Sally's Fishwiches

I flew to Oakland for the wedding of my niece, Mari Calder. As long as I was in the Bay Area, I checked into "America's Best Inn," near Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco. The morning of Mari's 3 p.m. wedding, I walked seven miles, up and down San Francisco's hills. I passed Victorian homes swathed in bouganvillea, and I passed Coit Tower.

I walked down the crookedest street in the world, Lombard.

I walked on, into North Beach. I stopped at the Cathedral and went to mass.

In Washington Square, across from the cathedral, the area's Chinese residents practiced tai chi.

I have learned from my Flindt grandchildren to keep my eyes open for the "dog of the day." This ball of fur won the prize.

In North Beach, the delis sold dozens of brands of olive oil and Italian sausage.

A moment later, I was in Chinatown, peeking through windows at barbecued duck, and examining strange produce and Chinese herbs.

I found fabulous bargains on Chinese lace tablecloths...

and I loved the ambience of the Chinese stores.

I then walked to the top of Nob Hill. I saw the Fairmont Hotel, where Dave and I stayed long ago as I attended a legal conference (and my law firm paid the bill).

I walked inside Grace Cathedral and admired its stained glass windows.

I checked out the trolleys...

and visited the Trolley Car Museum, where the equipment running the trolleys is stored.

Back at Fisherman's wharff, it was time for a break, with a Sally's fishwich.

One lunch was not enough. I also ordered lobster bisque at one of the many food stalls on the Wharf.

I moseyed past fishin boats...

and then Ghiradelli Square.