NorthBeachChinatownPolkGulchNobHillRussianHill

Grant Avenue

Day 143
Co-Walker: Monique
Neighborhoods Covered: Financial District, Jackson Square, North Beach, Chinatown, Union Square
Streets Completed: Columbus, Vandewater, Richard Henry Dana Place, Nobles, Wentworth, Newell

There was that house on Jackson Street. I can't remember who lived there first: DaveG? Dan? Shayne? D? They all passed through at one point, though I have it in my head that Dave was there longest--and at any rate, it's DaveG with whom I most strongly associate that place.

Otis and I still laugh about this: whenever anyone would ask Dave where he lived, his reply would vary depending on his mood, who was doing the asking, the day, the weather, and any number of other factors. Often, it was North Beach, and just as often Chinatown, both of which made a good amount of sense, as Jackson between Powell and Mason could be considered part of either (if perhaps leaning a bit more toward the latter).

But sometimes it would be Nob Hill--a bit of a stretch--or Russian Hill (ditto), and sometimes Polk Gulch, which seemed to be thrown in there just as some sort of ringer.

There was, of course, a kernel of truth to Dave's shifting neighborhood claims. In that part of the city, the lines between one 'hood and the next weave and blend and blur, sometimes to the point of non-existence. So within a handful of choices, he could more or less rightly claim to live wherever he felt like saying he lived.

I thought of this as Monique and I walked the length of Columbus while she was here on vacation. (Yes, this all happened more than a month ago; clearly, life has gotten in the way of all things WSF lately. But there you have it.)

Columbus starts (or ends, depending on your perspective) in the shadow of the Transamerica Pyramid at Washington and ends, somewhat abruptly, at Beach Street, in the shadow of 10 billion tourists looking for Pier 39. It wouldn't be altogether inaccurate to say that Columbus is entirely in North Beach, as it is that neighborhood's main thoroughfare, but it also wouldn't be wrong to toss in more detail. At its southern end, it dips its toes into the Financial District, and comes within spitting distance of Jackson Square. As it meanders north, it sorta kinda maybe brushes Chinatown. And as it nearly butts up to the Bay, it officially sticks its nose into Fisherman's Wharf. Not quite DaveG's NorthBeachChinatownPolkGulchNobHillRussianHill, perhaps, but not too far off.

To a lesser degree, the same holds for Grant, which we took chunks of on the way back. But unlike Columbus, which maintains a fairly consistent commercial front for the duration, Grant meanders from strictly residential in Telegraph Hill to a blend of housing and commerce in North Beach to a riotous and insane all-out capitalist fiesta in (ironic, no?) Chinatown.

So it was that by the time we'd reached the Chinatown gates, I was 100% officially exhausted and done for the day: so many neighborhoods (and neighborhood-lets) in so few streets and so relatively little time. I was glad to head home and leave it all behind.

Romeo and Juliet

Sonoma Alley

Day 17
Neighborhoods Covered: Financial District, Jackson Square, North Beach, Chinatown
Streets Completed: Mark Twain, Balance, Gold, Hotaling, Merchant, Osgood, Hodges, Bartol, Prescott, San Antonio, Pollard, Fresno, Dunnes, Romolo, Margrave, Varennes, Genoa, Sonoma, Bannam, Jasper, Jack Kerouac Alley (Adler), Saroyan Alley (Adler)

I take it back: SoMa isn't the neighborhood to beat in terms of tiny side streets and alleys. North Beach is.

I've been to North Beach and environs (Jackson Square, Telegraph Hill, Chinatown) over and over in my years here, but somehow never registered much beyond a few favorite haunts and the main drags. But not until I started to take the area block by block did I realize just how many small streets there are. Over the course of a few hours yesterday, I finished 22 of them. (Fear not, Monique: there are many, many, many more to go.) They were, needless to say, utterly empty of tourists, and, in most cases, utterly empty even of residents.

There's a lot to love about North Beach in general, even the stuff purists might sniff at. For every "authentic" "Italian" restaurant along Columbus, there's another that really is, even if it's actually a few blocks off on Grant. There's Vesuvio, Specs Adler's, Stella, Liguria Bakery, Mama's, and, of course, Mario's. There's Washington Square Park's blend of Chinese ladies doing tai chi, tourists trying to figure out how to get to Coit Tower, and various scruffy denizens. And City Lights always reminds me that good things are possible.

But when you step away from the center of things, the place opens itself up even more. For example, North Beach is full of what are called Romeo and Juliet houses: buildings with a main entry in the middle and two perfectly symmetrical apartments on either side. Why Romeo and Juliet? I wish I knew. (If you know, please e-mail or post a comment.) You'd think that if Romeo and Juliet had actually survived, they'd want to live together. At any rate, they're pretty charming, and you don't see them in quite the same abundance elsewhere in the city. You also don't see them on Columbus or Broadway or Grant.

The neighborhood's side streets and alleys offer up other things you wouldn't see elsewhere. Through an opening in a garage on San Antonio, I got a perfect view of Sts. Peter and Paul church with the hills of Marin a perfect green behind it. On Pollard, I saw buildings constructed right in (on?) huge solid chunks of the rock that underlies the area (and sometimes pops to the surface, apparently). On Sonoma, I saw the pastel-perfect houses pictured above, as well as the only decorated fire escape I've yet to encounter anywhere, ever.

By the time I headed back towards Market, I was slightly loopy with heat and the beginnings of serious foot fatigue, but still I had to stop myself from ducking down any more alleys. (Not an easy thing to do.) There's something so fascinating to me about all of these small, out-of-the-way streets that I almost fear it's like I'm eating dessert first, and that all of the big streets that await me will be something of a letdown.