Kiwis and Fairy Bread

29 and 30 June 2025

Time to head home. Our flight out of San Francisco was a red eye, not taking off until 9:30pm. What to do with twelve hours to kill?

I’d hoped to soak my still-aching Yosemite wounds in the hot tub, but The RiverPointe “spa” pool area didn’t open until almost check out time. Mike suggested we drive to a look out point across from the Golden Gate Bridge, and then picnic at a San Francisco beach. Off we went.

Driving out of Napa I looked up at the mountains once more. Tony had said I was “very granola”. I had to wonder, did I fit in so well here because I was always “granola”, or am I so “granola” because I came here?

An hours drive took us to a park on the north side of The Golden Gate. Just as we were parking a cargo ship sailed underneath the bridge. The scale was immense.

Walking onto the Moor Road Pier we met locals out for a day of fishing and crabbing. Big Bus Dave worked as tour bus driver, and pointed out one his busses as it crossed The Golden Gate.. His friend Marc used to paint sky scrapers and bridges! He does smaller work now. These jovial men didn’t seem to care much if they caught fish or not, they were just enjoying the day. It was the same for a family who were catching some deeply red colored crabs. . The boy tried to pick one up to show us, but his mother warned that he would surely get severely pinched.

We tried to walk up a hiking trail for a view, but found that it was closed. Instead we drove up to the Golden Gate View Point: us and another hundred cars. The nearest space we could find was about ten minutes walk from the crammed parking lot. The view point was drab and very windy. A chain link fence bent under the weight of a thousand rusting padlocks. Not a very pretty spot to view this most beautiful of bridges.

Back in the car and across the bridge the fog rolled in so thickly we couldn’t see the other side. The temperature dropped twenty degrees and it didn’t seem like such a good idea to picnic on the beach afterall. In Golden Gate Park we found a space, ate our lunch, watched a volleyball game and walked to The de Young art museum, hoping to see the Paul McCartney photo exhibit. Inside the museum, the ticket price didn’t seem quite worth a chance to view the great man’s rather amateur photographs. So we walked through the shops and the sculpture garden. Got lost on our way back to the car. Mike often says that good weather makes all the difference during vacation. This cold and gray San Francisco proved it once again. We were both tired and really ready to be home.

Dropping the car and getting through security at San Francisco International Airport (where the weather was, disappointingly, just fine!) was a breeze. We grabbed sushi and rice for dinner and settled into comfy chairs. I took a nap. The flight was a bumpy one, but on time at least.

Our son Ben graciously picked us up at Newark Airport at 6am. It was great to see him. In the sixteen days we had been gone, I had almost forgotten what a big guy his is. His welcoming embrace engulfed both of us.

Mike and I had not been more than a few meters apart for over two weeks. Now at home I wasn’t quite ready to sever that connection. There was laundry to be done, groceries to be bought, and the scenery for my upcoming show to be painted. But when Mike laid down on the couch for a nap I was drawn to him. It was good, deep sleep.

Over and over again on this trip we talked about how fortunate we are that we found each other. That thirty five years after meeting, we still enjoy each other’s company so much. It’s not every couple that shares so many interests and attitudes. That could be happy traveling and equally happy at home. The two of us together: it’s the best thing.