Our Cybernetic Time Travel Tour of Old San Francisco

The first stop on our Earthquake tour of San Francisco was of the famous golden fire hyrdrant at the top of Dolores Park, the one that continued to work during the fire and miraculously saved the Mission District.

Dolores Park, as seen from about where we stood (Wikipedia)

We walked en minutes from the Castro to Church Street, then hiked up the steep sidewalk until we found the inconspicuous little landmark sitting on the sidewalk.

My friends Elisabeth and Coop (true locals) had generously given me nearly the same walking tour a couple years back. This kind of "pass-it-forward" travel experience is a great pleasure when you can pull it off.

Actually despite having visited the fire hydrant before, at first I couldn't locate it at the intersection and had to resort to quick use of my smartphone to track it down.

Below us the park was packed with folks lingering in the balmy late spring afternoon, lounging around the grass amid a smattering of litter leftover from the height of a busy Saturday. By now it was just the right time of day to make the downtown skyline, and the historic mission itself, come alive with psychedelic oranges and golds reflecting off the steel, stone, and glass.

After soaking in the relaxing vibe, we caught a crowded J train back to the subway station at Powell and Market, which was just one block from our hotel. After freshening up, we then headed out for the evening on foot.

The Palace, as seen from the angle we approached it (Wikipedia)

I had decided our focus for that evening would be the historic Palace Hotel, which is a few blocks down Market at the corner of 2nd Street, occupying an entire city block.

As the hotel came in view, I narrated to Red a little of the history I learned from my pre-trip research---how the original Palace, built in 1875, had been the grand lodging establishment of old San Francisco, but it had been largely destroyed by the fire.

The current building---the "new" Palace, was built in just one year after the quake, and was designed to be more opulent than the original in the interior, although the exterior was far less gaudy, because styles had changed.

Red punched up the Wikipedia article on the Palace on her iPhone and continued providing more details on the hotel as she scrolled down the article with her finger. It's hard to imagine a time when such facts weren't available at one's command like this.  In this respect, the world seems so much more "interactive" now. San Francisco, of course, is the perfect place to experience this new paradigm to the fullest extent. It almost seems mandatory at this point.

We dined that evening at the elegant Pied Piper Bar & Grill inside the hotel. Even though there were larger tables, we chose to sit at a tiny one near the bar so as to be able to admire the large mural painting of the Pied Piper of Hamlin by Maxfield Parrish, which gives the bar its name.

Like many folks, even locals, I had heard about the painting only because it was slated to be removed and sold to a collector a couple years back (it is worth at least five million dollars in the current market).

The painting, as seen from about where we were sitting (Wikipedia). I'm noticing a theme.

As seems to happen in San Francisco whenever anyone wants to remove something historic, there was a huge sudden outcry, and the hotel changed course and decided to keep the painting after a restoration. It was replaced only last August, allowing us the pleasure of dining next to it, and admiring the vibrant surreal hues. Red found out that Parrish himself was the model for the Piper, and that when the painting was commissioned in 1909, the bar was the hotel's "Gentlemen's Bar."

Sitting below the painting was the perfect way to enjoy the bar's fantastic signature cocktails. The bartender was a real old pro.  His eyes lit up when I ordered the Chaplin Chaplin, which is made with absinthe.

"This is the kind of bartending job that someone keeps until they retire," I said to Red.

My strip steak was cooked to delicious perfection. But is was the caramelized banana and cream desert we shared that really stole the show. By the end of the meal, we felt like we'd really done San Francisco right that evening.

After dinner, we strolled down through the lobby to admire the massive and opulent Garden Court, a dining room that occupies the center of the hotel, and was the centerpiece of the reconstructed version of the Palace. 

I pointed out to Red that this is where Michael Douglas comes crashing through the ceiling at the end of The Game, a movie she hadn't yet seen. One thing about this city---you never get very far away from the postmodern experience.

And to think---we weren't even wearing Google Glass.