If you’re going to San Francisco…
…get ready for a calf workout. Cause there are some hills here. Damn!
There’s nothing like time in the city to remind me why I love down east Maine. Any way you go about it – walking, biking, bussing, subway-ing – it takes forever to get anywhere here. Traffic. Stop lights. Bus stops. They equate to the herky-jerky motion of city travel.
There are benefits to city life, though. Such as a plethora of ethnic food and vegan restaurant options.
In the city, farmer’s markets, too, will not disappoint. I practically snacked my way through the Castro market last night. I tried crunchy persimmons (much more palatable than their droopy, fleshy counterparts), smooth humus, olive oil pressed with orange peel, and so many candied almonds that I’m surprised no squirrels tried to mug me.
It’s fun to be here, hitting up more bars, hanging out with hipsters and queer folk. But there are a lot of things I miss about Maine.