San Franciscans don't really care. Whereas a cabbie in Queens with an Italian flag dangling from his rear-view might insist that he lives in the best damn city on Earth, it's likely that the Mexican-Filipino cable car conductor on Powell Street would quietly go about his business.
To accept the tag that San Francisco is the most "European" of American cities, as is done all too often, is shallow. It could just as well be deemed the most "Asian," or, with a humble nod to New York, the most cosmopolitan, in the sense that its diversity is so integrated that typical residents defy taxonomy.
Go West. Everyone from the Hell's Angels to the Pet Shop Boys has been seduced by Baghdad by the Bay, a vortex of opportunity whose ups and downs -- from the gold fever of 1849, to the earthquake of 1906, to the Silicon Valley boom of the 1990s -- have been as dramatic as its vistas. Yet its refusal to be pigeonholed gives San Francisco the enduring allure of having something for everyone.
Although no urban landscape would be better suited for a Hummer, the city was meant to be experienced on foot. The reward, never more than a few blocks' hike, is a wide-angle view of the bay cast in ethereal relief beneath the thrust of the Marin headlands, just beyond the Golden Gate Bridge.
Spanning the distance, distinctive neighborhoods -- self-contained cities actually -- segue fluently into one another over a rolling urban tapestry. Chinatown, North Beach, Pacific Heights and the Mission are but a handful of districts with unmistakable flavors, boasting arts and entertainment for every brow, banging nightlife both deluxe and dubious and a world-class dining scene offering some 3,500 establishments.
For the uninitiated, I have tried to provide a breakdown of the best districts as I have come to know them during my aimless wanderings throughout the city, including some shamefully biased info on stops, shops, eats, holes-in-the wall and open spaces. If you have three days, the city is yours.
Chinatown/North Beach
For the record, Chinatown SF is the Chinatown. Home to the largest Chinese community in the United States, the 18-block frenzy is so authentically Shanghai that you feel jet-lagged. The action is thickest along Grant and Stockton Streets which run parallel, connected by fish-scaled alleyways lined with shops chocked full of jade, ginseng and iron tea kettles.
Cheap dim sum joints and bakeries are everywhere, not to mention the Golden Gate Fortune Cookie Co. (56 Ross Alley), a former enclave for brothels and opium dens and a backdrop for the films "Indiana Jones" and "Big Trouble in Little China."
As an aside, most visitors never get to know the New Chinatown, far off the beaten path on Clement Street, between 2nd and 12th Streets in the Richmond District, where the pace seems provincial compared to downtown and the dim sum even better. Try Taiwan Restaurant (445 Clement Street) for lunch and swing by Schubert's Bakery down the block for sweets galore.
Fisherman's Wharf used to be the hub of Chinese, and later, Italian activity, though today it is a swathe of uber-kitch that is home to the likes of the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. Unless you plan on taking the ferry out to Alcatraz to play inmate for an hour, skip the Pier 39 tourist migraine altogether (if you must go, stop by for the daily sea lion orgy near the dock, and keep an eye out for the Bushman, SF's most infamous street urchin).
It is better to head west along the coast towards the Marina, past the Ghiradelli Chocolate factory (900 North Point Street) and the Maritime Museum towards the Hyde St. Pier. If you run by the National Park Service, you can explore old Clipper ships like the Balclutha and scale the masts -- if no one's looking -- for free. Then you might catch the trolley up Hyde Street to the tony Russian Hill neighborhood to scope the improbably crooked switchbacks of Lombard Street and be eye-to-eye with the silver towers of the financial district splitting the fog ahead.
Coffee is the best cure for the dizzying smells of Chinatown, and neighboring North Beach is where you'll find baristas and books. Set along Columbus Avenue, the area still retains its thick Italian accent and a slightly seedy undertone, lined with low-slung jazz lounges and restaurants that were once haunts for the beat generation.
To find Kerouac and Ginsberg, look no further than City Lights Bookstore (261 Columbus Avenue), founded by SF poet laureate Lawrence Ferlinghetti and home to a vast selection of alternative press.
Nearby, wood-baked pizzas and lip-smacking pastas are the trademark of tiny Osteria del Forno (519 Columbus Avenue), an intimate local favorite.
For those who need to decompress post-bar/club, North Beach is always open late. Be sure to stop by Tosca Café (242 Columbus Avenue) and sink into one of the red booths for a cappuccino while the jukebox croons deep into the a.m.
Marina/ Pacific Heights/ Haight-Ashbury
For fresh-air fiends who want to soak up the bay breezes, grab a warm drink and a San Francisco Chronicle at The Grove Café (2250 Chestnut Street) in the Marina. Walk west towards the imposingly roman-esque Palace of Fine Arts (3301 Lyon Street), built for the 1915 Panama-Pacific Expo.
No one should miss the Exploratorium next door, an indoor science amusement park with over 650 hands-on science exhibits for young and old. If you'd rather not dissect a cow's eye, head to the tactile dome (reservations req.), a touchy-feely maze where one must grope, climb and slide -- in total darkness -- to get through.
If claustrophobia lingers, release yourself onto Crissy Field -- a former air field turned park -- and walk along the beach towards Ft. Point, at the base of the Golden Gate Bridge for a look at the mouth of the Pacific. On the way back, hang a right into the Presidio, a largely deserted ex- military base spread over sea-swept hills of eucalyptus trees. LucasFilm is currently building a Digital Studio at the bottom, but further beyond there are numerous trailheads and beaches -- including the quasi-nude Baker's Beach (Bowley Street and Lincoln Boulevard) -- that provide an escape from the city.
Exit the park at the East Gate, make dinner reservations at the romantic Baker Street Bistro (2853 Baker Street), and head across town via Union St. two blocks uphill, to an upscale strip of boutiques prowled by leather-backed yuppies. A slice of "Ragin' Rooster" eaten over a snowboard at Extreme Pizza (1980 Union Street) should rev you up Fillmore Street to the primo real estate of Pacific Heights located at its apex.
Fillmore runs back down hill where you'll find soap superstore Hydra, vintage clothing chains like Crossroads Trading Co. (1901 Fillmore) and nearby Buffalo Exchange (1800 Polk Street) intermingling with fine ethnic dining, and of course, more cafes. If you continue further you'll run into Japantown, admittedly a letdown after the commercial tantrum of its Chinese sibling, but the place to go if you're thinking bonsai.
Take a right and walk a half dozen blocks to Masonic, catch the bus going south and get off at Haight Street, the former epicenter of 60s counter-culture that is a now a sad blend of panhandlers and runaways streaking the glass windows of gentrification. Even the once-eclectic vintage shops have sold out, hawking rockabilly shirts at Paul Smith prices. It's better to leave the head shops and tattoo parlors behind before your mood sours, though be sure and check out the massive inventory at Amoeba Music (1855 Haight Street), the new/used CD/LP mecca where DJ Shadow b-sides are packed in next to the best of Moroccan throat singing.
At the end of the block, you reach the fringe of Golden Gate Park -- the yin to Haight-Ashbury's strung-out yang -- a lush 1,000 acre oasis of green larger than Central Park that extends all the way to the coast. Inside, you'll find the Stybing Arboretum and Botanical Gardens, the Asian Art Museum, the F.H. de Young Museum (temp. closed), golf courses, riding stables, bison (!), the list goes on. Lastly, teleport yourself to the base of Mt. Fuji at the Japanese Tea Garden, a favorite patch of zen within the peaceful confines of the park, and the ideal place to sip a cup of jasmine tea when the rains come.
Mission/SoMa/Castro/Noe Valley
The Mission District is the pulsing heart of San Francisco, home to a vibrant Latino community that can trace its roots back to the founding of the city when Mission Dolores (16th and Dolores) was built in 1776. These days, the Mission is the de facto base of SF's radical bohos, which still means something in a liberal metropolis that voted 80 percent against the recall of Gray Davis last year. A spirit of activism and up-for-it spontaneity pervades, best exemplified by the dozens of colorful murals that are splashed across area walls; highlights include Balmy Alley and a three-story homage to Carlos Santana. For a peek at the latest chicano artists, go to Galeria de la Raza (2847 24th Street).
One reason why the area remains so upbeat in spite of low-income is the food. Tongue-torching burritos, washed down with a cool glass of horchata can be had for dirt-cheap prices at any of the first-rate taquerias in the district. Many claim to be the best, with the write-ups to back it up, but I recommend La Taqueria (2889 Mission Street). Alternately, if the spice isn't right, tasty Breton-style crepes can be had at Ti Couz (3108 16th Street).
The anything goes attitude of the Mission District makes it a great place to cut loose late night, but if you prefer to dress up to get down or the big room boom, SoMa (South of Market) is where you'll find designer divas and DJs. After an afternoon visit to the galleries of the SF Museum of Modern Art (151 3rd Street) and the excellent gift shop below, the sun goes down, and San Francisco offers its own breed of homegrown house music and an array of venues in the district to keep you moving. Miguel Migs is still SF's preferred groove merchant, and he often turns tricks on Thursday's KitKat @ The EndUp (401 6th Street) or Friday's Remedy @ DNA Lounge (375 11th Street).
If you followed the average clubber home, chances are you'd wind up in the Castro, SF's gay community. The Castro Theater's marquee lights up the block and it is a bastion for cinephiles who may have missed "The Godfather" during its original release or who have a soft spot for Charlie Chaplin on the big screen.
Also, hidden away a short walk around the corner is the HQ of Joseph Schmidt Confections (3489 16th Street), my own private paradise, where sinfully good chocolate truffles can be had at half-price.
Just over the hill rising out of the Castro lies Noe Valley, once a cow pasture for Latino farmers and now a stomping ground for upwardly-mobile couples and an army of babies. The vibe on 24th St. is charming but cheeky, and the Noe Valley Bakery serves up quite possibly the best sourdough bread in town. Grab a loaf and an emergency shot of espresso and turn south to face Twin Peaks, the highest point of the city at 938 ft., where one final, eye-swelling panorama awaits the weary urban foot soldier.
Note: For more information and events, go to www.timeout.com, www.letsgo.com/SF, www.SFArts.com, www.citysearch.com.
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