My first visit to the Bay area was many years ago on a vacation with sisters & husbands. Our home base was a gorgeous B&B in San Rafael. Our main goal was to drink as much wine as possible but we wandered over the Golden Gate bridge at least once during our stay.
Unfortunately, that trip left me with a very bad taste in my mouth. Our hosts at the B&B were, well, rude and amazingly snobbish. I am sure they assumed the Clampetts had descended on their lovely inn and they could barely keep themselves from holding their noses as they served us our french pressed coffee and perfectly prepared breakfasts. I sensed we were on bad terms when the hostess expressed concern over how she should "plate a banana". Since when does a banana need a plate?
I wasn't clear on what we had done to offend them. We were clean, well dressed and obviously could afford to stay there. We weren't loud or obnoxious. But I knew we would never return or recommend this place when we were settling our bills. My sister innocently asked how much the terry cloth robes (that were marked for sale) were. The innkeeper's response was a curt, "If you have to ask, you can't afford one." Well, he missed that sale.
I was left with the impression that folks in this part of the world believed they were better than the rest of us. Especially those of us with funny accents from the south.
My next visit was an unplanned stop in September of 2009. Eddie & I were doing our west coast ride from Washington State to Los Angeles along Hwy. 101. The suspension on the Mighty Wing was not adjusted properly for our combined weight or our habit of packing it like refugees heading west from the Dust Bowl. So, we were going through rear tires at an alarming rate. 6,000 miles was becoming the norm and with the way we ran that poor bike, tires were getting replaced quite regularly. If I could have gotten Eddie off of it for a few weeks, perhaps that problem could have been corrected.
That is how we found ourselves spending an afternoon in Downtown SF at Golden Gate Cycles getting yet another rear tire so we could continue our journey south. After a nice lunch at a great deli, we found a spot to wait in the dealership. A man rushed up to us and loudly asked, "Whose Gold Wing is that downstairs with the fuel tank on the back?!"
"It's ours", Eddie answered, expecting the usual questions and interest that we got all the time as we traveled. People always wanted to know what that thing was on the back of the bike. A water tank seemed to be the most common guess which always made me crack up. Why would we carry extra water in a gross tank?
"That thing is dangerous and you need to remove it immediately!" The guy was obviously unhappy with our setup. "Why in the world would you need such a thing?"
Eddie remained calm
. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?""I own this dealership."
"Well, we appreciate your concern." And then he looked down and pretended to read the magazine in his lap.
"Well, you need to be careful on that thing. If someone runs into the back of you, you'll be killed."
Eddie looked up and smiled. "If someone runs into the back of us, we probably have bigger problems anyway."
The owner then proceeded to tell us he didn't really ride any more. He was into fitness now. Well, alrighty then.
And so my perception of the "People By The Bay" was re enforced.
I just spent a week here. And I am happy to say that my past experiences with self-righteous snobs did not repeat themselves. I met lots of happy, friendly people. Waiters, bartenders, fellow travelers on the ferry, hotel maids, etc., etc.
An especially nice man even took a few hours off from work to ride me around in the rain on his Gold Wing. I had never met him before. But we know all the same people. And so now, I have a friend in the Bay Area.
I guess on the previous trips, I just should have stayed longer. I'm not leaving my heart here but I am now in "like" with the city by the bay.
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