San Francisco is a city for dreamers. Maybe it’s the ethereal wisps of fog swirling about. Maybe it’s those 43 oh-so-steep hills, or the plucky cable-cars-that-could that nimbly climb them.
Welcome to San Francisco
Whatever it is, the city that rushed its way onto the American scene when a bunch of adventurers and outcasts came searching for “gold in them there hills” has attracted eccentrics ever since. Poets and inventors, visionaries and weirdos... even the lazy sea lions that sun themselves on Pier 39 know they have a place in this crazy city.
Clocking in at just seven miles by seven miles, the “city by the bay” is not large, but it packs in a lot between the Bay and the breakers. This includes a buzzing literary scene, the crookedest street in the world (Lombard between Hyde and Leavenworth) and the largest Chinatown outside of Asia. The Castro wears its colorful and cheeky personality on its sleeve (and flagpoles), the Mission mingles grit and hip and Latin flavor, and over in the Sunset quixotic windmills, one of world’s largest (and greenest) science museums and shaggy bison all keep company at Golden Gate Park. Yep, it’s no wonder folks croon about leaving their hearts here.