My mom had always wanted to go there. She had passed through SF, on her way to Colorado, after leaving Honolulu, where she was born and grew up.
The day-long drive from LA was a rainy and cool one. The sun broke through in the late afternoon as we arrived at our hotel on Fisherman’s Wharf. Our three-day tour of the Bay Area, in 1972, was a jam-packed one, taking in the sights with our trusty guidebook and map in hand.
northbound, Golden Gate Bridge
The centerpiece of our trip was the morning-long, ferry tour of the Bay Area.
It took us awhile, but we found Lombard St, the winding street.
Like many places, the Bay Area has changed considerably in the intervening years. Certainly, the cars have changed. Forty years has a way of doing that.