San Francisco - Part 2

The beds in the Whitcomb are the worst so far in two weeks, and San Francisco awaits us with misty 15 degrees Celsius. "If you are going to San Francisco, wear some jackets and some bonnets around your hair," Scott McKenzie would have to sing. Mark Twain was already more precise with his statement of the hardest winter he had ever experienced was summer in San Francisco.

The breakfast is diagonally across: Kind of American lush, but passable. With a little heavy stomach, we'll board the Streetcar in front of the hotel, get to Fisherman's Wharf, take the bus to the last stop, take time to walk and still see the Golden Gate Bridge from a distance. As expected, immersed in the fog. But the Victorian houses are once again charming.

The return trip (after we asked that a bus stop is identified by a small painted sign on a lamp-post) leads us to Fisherman's Wharf ( http://www.sfgate.com/neighborhoods/sf/fishermanswharf/ ), to the sea lions and the souvenir shops. A Hard Rock Cafe is offering two T-shirts and so improve the children's spirits noticeably.

Behind it appears the Telegraph Hill with Coit Tower which we climb on the Filbert Steps. And now San Francisco is incredibly charming and worth living. Wonderful cottages with romantic garden plots, terraced pattern and no direct access by car, but that with great views over the bay - either towards Bay Bridge or Alcatraz. One time I even see a small pool on the roof and the sun comes out to perfection. It must be a pleasure to live here and it must cost a fortune.

The Coit Tower provides beautiful and interesting views in the other direction, but the immediacy of that empathy is lacking in the housing from the top. We climb down the other side and find in the direction of Little Italy on the border of Chinatown, which I am looking for: The Cafe Greco. One Cappuccino, three Cafe Latte and four absolutely delicious sweets. It is a must.

Then we see the third cable car at last resort (why must so many tourists be everywhere around?), But my $ 5 trip ends quickly and I walk up the steep hill back to pick up the still intact lens cap Nikon from the road. The family finds together at the terminus partly proud, partly redeemed and Lisa's mood is improving sustainable, because GAP has friendly tailored two jeans in her body shape. As it just so must be, while Mia's knee going out of support actually provided, but we still plod conciliatory Market Street down to the Whitcomb.

Without purchases we make our way to find a nice restaurant with California cuisine and enter SoMa (South of Market), which according to our guide has particularly cool neighborhood with artists, boutiques, and many trendy restaurants. We find furniture stores, a gas station, some excavations, many odd birds and with growing dismay about the U.S. social policy homeless people in a frequency of about 50 meters. These are not the hippie dropouts in Haight Ashbury, who paint "Cash for research on alcohol" on the sign or "BEE" with coins on the street and ask for the "R". Here are dozens of mostly black people, with one or two plastic bags of their belongings crammed on the sidewalk, in niches or in cases of luxury on a wooden bench.

Since we can not find a restaurant, we continue our search in the northern and expensive architecture equipped area called Civic Center and the image of poverty remains the same. We again find it very difficult to understand this country. The dollar bill that we give is more a symbolic act

In front of the hotel, we finally find what we really wanted all along: Sam's Diner offers great food, friendly service and moderate prices. The chocolate milkshake from Lisa is enough for dessert for three and our children cancel Starbucks for tomorrow because we want to have breakfast at Sam too.

The fog dominates San Francisco already for three hours, but as if to prove the American contradictions three of us caught a sunburn. Here, at 20 degrees Celsius - fissrt wearing a coat, then only T-shirt and sweater.