Last night after riding to and walking along the Golden Gate Bridge, we ate at "The Stinking Rose: A Garlic Restaurant," where everything (almost) has garlic, including the garlic ice cream on the dessert menu (which we thankfully did not order). Every table is in a booth enclosed with red curtains, like a fortune teller's office (or whatever the term is for where a fortune teller works...) The food was amazing. I was also impressed by the the waiter's wireless PDA which sent the orders straight to the kitchen. The cabbie on the way back was pretty cool too.

Tristyn is on the plane back to Boston now. In a little while I'll go looking for a cafe recommended by Colin. Tomorrow I head south.

The motel is a few blocks from City Hall, Symphony Hall, the public library and many other landmarks, but it also seems like hobo & freak central. The person who has showered this morning and walks in a straight line without muttering gibberish or shouting at strangers or asking for money is the exception; the entertainment in the subway station was a tone-deaf hobo singing a combination of folk music and gibberish acapella...it was cute for a little while but then it all gets annoying. I am assured by a resident friend that not every neighborhood in the city is like this, however. Despite all that it is still a really awesome city.

Golden Gate Bridge