On October 14, I got on a plane at the Charlotte-Douglas Airport en route to San Francisco. Since I'm not too fond of
flying I wasn't looking forward to flying for more than 5 1/2 hours. As if the long flight wasn't enough, I had to change my flight in Atlanta.
Flying can deepen the bond between sinners like myself and God. I felt compelled to pray and talk to God for my whole trip.
Flying also made me put a lot of things in perspective. Petty arguments and disagreements I
have with love ones just don't seem so important when you are thousands of miles above the ground. I felt as if a guardian angel wrapped her arms around me and kept me safe as I flew more than 2100 miles.
Once my plane touched the ground I thanked God for my safe arrival, grabbed my bags and ran to the door. I was on the west coast and I couldn't wait to see the dock of the bay that Otis Redding sang about.
The minute I entered the city I finally saw what all of the talk was about. San Francisco is a beautiful city. As I rode in the SFO bus to the Downtown Marriott. I was overcome by the breathtaking view.
Alcatraz, Fisherman's Wharf, the Golden Gate Bridge and the vineyards in Napa
Valley are a few places I didn't intend to return to Charlotte without seeing.
Immediately after I checked into my hotel I went up to the top floor of the Marriott. They call the 39th floor "The View."
You can see the entire city while relaxing in the elegant lounge. As the sun goes down the city becomes almost bright as in the daytime. Maybe they should name San Francisco the city that never sleeps.
On the front page of the San Francisco Chronicle there was an article that reminds visitors you are in California, "The Land of the Earthquakes." Experts are predicting a major
earthquake in the next 30 years in the Bay Area. In my heart I kept praying that the quake would not come while I was there. It was kind of unnerving thinking about the quake because
Oct. 17 was the anniversary of the earthquake that interrupted the World Series.
That Friday morning I woke up excited, so I dressed quickly because I knew I was on my way to Napa Valley.
In order to get to Napa Valley you have to cross the Golden Gate Bridge. Locals say that when the wind blows you can feel the bridge moving.
My heart started beating faster as I approached the bridge. I can mark another place off my dream list that I wanted to see before I died.
There's a park next to the bridge. Visitors stopped at the park and
took pictures of the bridge. I didn't have time to stop because I was on my way to Napa Valley.
The drive to Napa Valley was fulfilling enough. The mountains and
hills made a relaxing drive. Once I was in Napa Valley, my aunt, Vivian Byrd, decided we should visit Sterling Vineyard. We parked our car and bought a ticket to enter the vineyard. After we gave the
attendant our tickets we jumped on the tram and rode up the mountain to the wine factory. Everyone is allowed to taste different types of wine for free. The sun was wearing us out, considering it was 95
degrees. So we called it a day and headed back to the city.
We went back to the hotel in order to get some rest. After relaxing for a minute, we went to the concierge lounge on our floor to eat some
fruit to tide us over until dinner. We were the only black people on the 18th floor, so when we walked in the lounge we stuck out like a sore thumb.
Some white guests couldn't eat their food for watching us. Everyone was dressed casual like we were, so it left us only to assume we were being watched because we were young and
black. The empty stares made me yearn to see some black people.
My aunt made reservations at Elroy's, a restaurant that is managed by her old friend from
Atlanta. The manager was black and I was glad to see a brother manage a restaurant that was huge and completely filled. The restaurant had three levels including a waterfall in the private
party room. I was totally enjoying myself. Ken, the manager, introduced us to the staff and the entire staff appeared happy to see Ken's friends from the east coast. Ken said that there are
only 14 black restaurant managers in San Francisco. That's not hard to believe considering the few black faces I saw during the entire trip.
Saturday, was the busiest day of my trip. I had to fit everything I had left to see in this day because at 9:45 p.m. I was out of California on the red eye.
The first task for Saturday was to ride the famous cable cars. Riding the cable cars was definitely a hard task. We had to buy our tickets on Powell Street.
After we bought round-trip tickets, a police officer told us there was a 45-minute wait due to the Free Mumia Abdul Jamal protest that was taking place. The 45-minute wait turned into a 2-hour wait.
There were three protests on Powell Street going on simultaneously. The Mumia Abu-Jamal protest was the largest. Although the protesters in front of McDonald's and the Gap drew a
lot of attention. The People for Ethical Treatment of Animals stood with signs in front of McDonald's while people wearing tee shirts and hats spelling "Crap" stood in front of Gap.
The Crap people believe that Gap uses sweatshop labor. Therefore, they asked Gap customers if they believed in sweatshop labor.
It appeared that everyone in San Francisco had a cause. This city is definitely different from Charlotte. I haven't seen this many people crowd the streets in Charlotte except at the Carousel Parade on Thanksgiving.
There was so much excitement going on I hardly noticed two days had passed.
We caught the cable car to Fisherman's Wharf and rode a ferry for an hour. The ferry takes
you out to the Pacific Ocean. It takes you under the Golden Gate Bridge and by Alcatrez. Alcatrez is the famous prison sitting out in the Pacific Ocean only a few miles from the city.
The tight security at this prison, plus it is isolated in the bay, made the prison almost escape proof. It's not hard to see why.
It was torture for prisoners on Alcatrez to look outside. The view of San Francisco is
exceptional from the prison. Can you imagine being so close to a booming city, yet so far away?
The ferry ride was relaxing, so now the new task ahead was to pick up souvenirs, eat dinner,
catch a taxi to the hotel, retrieve my belongings, get in the rental car and ride to the airport so I wouldn't miss my plane.
I only had 2 hours and 45 minutes to get all of this achieved. I managed to get all of it
accomplished with 45 minutes to spare.
When the airline attendants started loading the plane I was ready to come back home.
My flight touched down in Charlotte at 7:18 a.m. I thanked God for my safe trip and walked off the plane. I was back in the Queen City again.
Although San Francisco was a great place to visit, I still believe there is no place better than the Queen City.
ARTELLIA BURCH is a Charlotte Post correspondent.
