The Fairmont Hotel

Today, Saturday 15th August we are to do a tour of the famous Fairmont Hotel and it will be Flashman's last ride on public transport. Yes, he's had enough. SF has the best public transport system. It's fast, efficient, friendly, usually on time, clean, no graffiti and is a mix of high speed rapid transport trains, suburban trains and trams, trolley buses (trams on wheels) and of course, the well known cable car. There's even clean taxis. Mobile phones even work in the tunnels. You get this Melbourne Transport? But it's public. Full of people you'd not want to invite home to dinner, yet alone have a conversation with, and sometimes it's full to standing point. Then there's the stairs up and down to the platforms, the 20 minute walk to the station, the waiting and the silly announcements and having like to like listen like to the like stupid like conversations that the stupid like teenagers like have like with their stupid friends. Obviously, 'like' is the new um and it grates on one as eloquent as we seniors.(Read Grumpy Old Man - Flashy!) I think the inside of a train carriage looks like something from another planet with all alien beings connected by their thumbs to little portable screens. Then there's the stupid costumes they wear and the bloody pushbikes jamming up the isles. That's it. No more. Last ride to town this morning, then it's limos for Flashy. Phew that feels better. Well, it gets better. 

 



Lady P's well researched and booked free tour of the Fairmont Hotel (San Francisco Walking tours - likened to Big Apple Greeters in NYC) was excellent - eventually. Lady P secretly gets her own back at Flashman's tirade on public transport by making him walk three blocks up SF's steepest street (well he thinks it was but it was only a 30% grade and others are closer to 40%) from the BART to the hotel. "It's only one more block", she says. Must have been three bloody miles. There are nine of us on the tour and PJ, the volunteer guide - a 60'ish slim, softly spoken gal was borne and bred in SF. The others are three youngins from Boston; two Kiwis - well one Aussie married to a Kiwi, and two gals from SF who just like walking tours; and of course Flashy and Lady P.The outside of the hotel tour was conducted in the high 80's - about 30C, so despite the incredibly lavish, French inspired 1890's architecture, we were glad to go inside. The Fairmont does not disappoint in any way, with gilded everything and just so OTT. There is one bar that looks like a Circus, complete with platinum, nickle and gold based paints used in the extensive murals painted by a couple of SF girls (nudge, nudge) back in the 30's. The murals are apparently worth millions. There's also a function room - the Tongan room, where we observe thatched roof bures around a swimming pool (all indoor) and then as PJ snaps her fingers, water pours form the ceiling around the perimeter of the pool - yes you guessed it, a tropical downpour. The jewel in the crown is, however, the 'Crown Function Room' on the top floor of the hotel. Perhaps not one for any forthcoming family celebrations at $25,000 a night (room only) but we are lucky enough to enjoy the most stunning 360 degree view of San Francisco from the windows all around and it was the most magnificent day so it was truly breathtaking.

A look at the hotel herb gardens and beehives on the first floor concludes the tour, one and a half hours later. Flashy and Lady P adjourn to the Fairmont bar for a refreshing cocktail. After all, it's 12.30 pm and hot. We have a Fairmont Plunge and a Lavender Bramble. These use infused herbs from the rooftop herb garden, Cool eh? Flashy's has 12yr old Elija Bourbon, ginger syrup, lemon juice and mint, decorated with two cherries. Lady P has gin (of course) blood orange liqueur, lemon juice, blackberry puree and lavender syrup. We also decide to have crab cakes and deviled eggs.
Wonderful. The waitress recognises the accent and then informs us that she (a USA gal), has just married a Kiwi. Bloody hell, they'e everywhere - and won the rugby - Bledisloe Cup- last night as well. After feeling well refreshed, we head down hill (thank God, says Flashy) to Union Square and a great kitchen shop, where we discover a young SF guy promoting and giving us a sample of aperitif wine from Somoma, who - yes you guessed it - married a bloody Kiwi. On the way out of the store, we sample a little taco from the bloke who is promoting the taco seasoning he has invented. "Where are you all from?", he says. "Australia', we say. "Where?," he says. "Cairns", we say. "I've ... don't tell me he's going to say he's married to a Kiwi. I can't stand it. No, thankfully, he's only been to Aus and knows where Cairns is. Phew. Macys is across the road and Lady P leads Flashy into the store on the pretense of finding him a cheap gold watch. No go, unfortunately but we are thirsty again. So off to a little bar near Embarcadero station for a couple of Ibuprofen and a beer then home via the supermarket to top up on salad and chicken for tonight's Caesar salad and one of those Placerville wines.