We drove up to San Francisco last weekend with no plans at all. “No plans at all” is becoming my favorite way to travel. Sure, you may find yourself entering Norway with no idea where you’ll sleep that night or how you’ll get out of Norway, but in my experience things work out one way or another.
- wandering into a mass at St. Peter’s church led by an old priest and another old priest in a wheelchair being maneuvered by a church worker in a fishing vest, only to have a third old priest shuffle out of the wings with his walker
- surprise religious parades in North Beach featuring four guys carrying a Jesus statue
- fish and chips with a side of vague threats from a
- finding my nightmare aesthetic at the Musée Mécanique
- window shopping for fungi at the Ferry Building
- a lazy Sunday morning at the SF MoMA, learning to screenprint and dodging performance artists
- stopping for a lemon tart and morning bun at Tartine
- browsing taxidermy and used books in the Mission district
It was a real treat to share I love about exploring new cities with my sisters: the joys of sitting in a cafe or lying on the grass somewhere and soaking up the atmosphere, or finding refuge in churches and bookstores. But the best part, the thing I miss most about traveling, is finding bursts of humanity on a street corner, stumbling upon oddities that either come and go or embed themselves in your psyche.