For me the romance of San Francisco begins at Fisherman’s Wharf. The Golden Gate Bridge stands as a welcoming sentinel, while the sunset bathes the fog shrouded air and glistens on the moist pavement.
Aficionados of San Francisco will note my many romantic touches: replacing the contemporary wharf electric trolleys with the more colorful and nostalgic cable cars, clearing away some of the fisherman’s shacks along Scoma’s pier to allow a less interrupted view of the famous Golden Gate, dressing the scene with an uninterrupted flow of vintage vehicles. On the top floor of famous Castagnola’s restaurant, I even included a depiction of myself as a little boy looking out in awe at the distant bay as a fog shrouded ship departs for points unknown. Perhaps the romance of the City by the Bay, at least for me, began in childhood with such whimsical daydreams.