We gazed at the endless blue of the Pacific Ocean, only disturbed by the sturdy pillars of the Golden Gate Bridge; we marched along the steep roads of San Francisco, sometimes chasing the slow-moving cars along the famous ‘Crooked Lane’ at Lombard Street. We spent some mornings soaking in the brilliance of Paul Klee and Andy Warhol at SFMOMA (San Francisco Museum of Modern Art), and evenings, watching a pod of seals share docks at Pier 39. We hopped on and off of ‘Caltrains’, and stopped to drink soup out of sourdough bread bowls and gobble spoons-full of Affogato. Some evenings we spent smoking orange mint hookah, and some others, getting spooked inside a 134-year-old haunted Winchester Mystery House. We bid goodbye to California, but missed our connecting flight to Philadelphia. Stuck at Phoenix for the night, we traveled along roads, marked with tall cacti on the sides, to a nearby hotel. Finally, we reached home at dusk the next day. Now, as we put our feet up, and leisurely sip tea at our patio, we miss the cool breeze of the Bay, and the bark of the seals. It’s been a good trip.