SIMaAM Tour: Post-Mortem
It was great! Despite the threats of fog (yes, in the middle of June - that's another post altogether) the weather was sunny and breezy all day and it was in all a perfect day for walking around town. Since all my other friends were either away or just wusses, the participants consisted of just myself and the indefatigable Dr Germ. The whole thing took place against the backdrop of Pride Day in San Francisco, which has the feel of the circus coming to town. It leant the entire day an air of unreality, which filigreed the rather absurdist theme of the whole tour.
We started out at the UN Plaza and took the MUNI trolley to the Embarcadero where our first stop was slated to be: the San Francisco Ferry Building (Pier 32?). The imposing edifice is a staple of most modern movies set in SF (SIMaAM of course, Interview With A Vampire, etc) and of course is the establishing shot for our own favorite movie for whom this tour is named. Of course there is more to the building than just the big neon letters on the roof. It contains - presumably the result of attempts to rehabilitate the piers - a series of boutique purveyors of the finest comestibles. Chocolate, specialty bakeries, and gelato shops stand shoulder to shoulder, a gastronomic phalanx determined to make us leave with something to nosh on. With supreme effort I pried the good doctor away from the gelato place and stepped back out into the sunshine.
Our next stop was slated to be the Fog City Diner (site of the "I was electrocuted once - it was haw-ribull" scene). As we crossed from the Ferry building and into the residential part of Embarcadero we found ourselves walking through neighborhoods we didn't know existed. Of course this was one of the secret purposes of the whole endeavor! The neighborhoods were almost uniformly composed of brownstone apartment complexes that reminded me of the New York of my youth. They seemed to self-contained communities with restaurants, dry-cleaners and verdant courtyards that served as a literal breath of fresh air. It brought about a discussion of arcologies and the plans for more sustainable urban centers for the new millennium.
We strolled along Battery St, and to our left at every intersection we noticed the land rising faster than we were until it was a cliff face capped with precariously perched homes that seemed to be threatening to jump. At the very end of Battery St was our destination, literally the last structure before the road flowed into Embarcadero and the Bay. The diner itself seems to be a throwback to the 50's with a gleaming stainless steel exterior trimmed with blue neon. The interior on the other hand was surprisingly posh, a fact that wasn't clear from the film. We took snapshots of each other in front of the sign and took a short breather before crossing the street and heading for the sheer cliff face we'd have to find some way of surmounting to get to North Beach and our next three tour stops.
It was quite lucky that straight across we saw a stairway leading up to the top of the cliff. The stairways was rather steep but lead us through yet another improbable neighborhood. What had seemed a sheer cliff face was actually just an impossibly steep hillside, littered with small quaint homes, camouflaged in thick foliage that seemed out of place in a city. The stairway was flanked with thick vines and shrubs, small orange flowers cascading over the tops and brushing against the railings. I had suspected previously that I was out of shape, but on those steps I was sweating and panting, so I welcomed the first break which seemed to be a hidden street. There was no sign of the stairs continuing but we weren't at the top of the hill yet. Off to our right was a garish eyesore that called itself Julius' Castle and was apparently a supper club of some sort. Replete with short towers and battlements it sat the corner and looked out across the Bay towards Berkeley.
Eyes still stinging from sweat and the "castle" we set off, having spotted the steps again. We ascended rather more rapidly this time, sensing that we were close to the top and sure enough found ourselves at the foot of Coit Tower. This was a rather neat treat since the tower is seen in passing in the film but not really featured.
We mounted the steep decline into North Beach and found ourselves wandering towards Vesuvio (called "Roads" in the film, the exterior of which serves as the first up close look at Charlie Mackenzie's San Francisco). The interiors for that scene were filmed a now defunct cafe South of Market so there was no way to visit that. From there we walked up Columbus and right on Green towards the location of Meats of the World. I had been thinking about that spot more than others because of my desire to find a butcher somewhere in the city. After all what sort of city doesn't have a decent butcher or some good deli's at least. I mean where the hell am I supposed to find some good smoked meats (easy, dirtbags, you know what I meant).
The shop itself was vacant with its large, clear glass windows showing the gleaming white interior stripped bare of anything to hint at what it was before. The awnings were still up, and the turquoise and white tiles still ran under the windows and around the door which made it seem like a familiar place to me - although it was sad to see it empty. We lingered around the front for a little while before making our way to the end of Columbus where the location for the Cock O'the North. It turned out to be a grubby little bar like a thousand other ones scattered throughout the city. The interiors for this place was also filmed elsewhere (in this case at a restaurant in downtown - rather close to my place in fact), so it seemed a bit anticlimactic.
That left just one more location on our tour: the Palace of Fine Arts. I'd been there several times, but the good doctor never had so this was especially sweet. We got onto the 30 bus at Columbus and Stockton and rode through the Marina on an empty bus. The weather had been bright and golden but as we got closer to our destination the fog began to close around us and the temperature dropped about 10 degrees.
Alighting from the bus we strolled through a neighborhood niether of us would ever be able to afford. The homes there were simple, attached places, built over garages, but were made beautiful by the flourishes at the entrances and in the doorways. They had narrow ledge balconies extending french doors and no doubt giving the impression of space. Flanked with cypress-like plants or bougainvillea in full bloom, even the garages looked attractive. More importantly they masked the fact that around the next corner was something wonderful.
The Palace of Fine Arts itself rises improbably on the far side of a large duck pond. Built for the 1898 Panama Canal Expo or something of that sort it's a faux classical forum made of what appears to be industrial grade papier mache and cement. Festooned with karyatids and muscular nudes, it is as magical a place as I have ever been in. We walked through the site passing several wedding parties, there to take their photos. Beaming brides and grooms, their immaculate clothes trailing slightly over the somewhat muddy ground, stood surrounded by family members and it almost made the weather a little warmer.
Tired but happy we retraced our steps to the bus stop and got on for the long ride back home. I really want to do this tour again but with a few more people and a few more places, with stops for food and drinks at the most approprirate bits.Will you join me next time?