Tourist-y

On Sunday, Nathaniel demanded that we walk around and see some of the sights he'd read about. First, we took a cable car from our hotel up up up to Pacific Heights where the closest LDS church was. After church we decided to walk down to Fisherman's Wharf (which I loathe) so Nathaniel could see the sea lions who hang out at Pier 39. Nathaniel was the photographer along most of the way and took pictures of anything he'd read about in books. I don't remember what this building is called. Anyone?

(The TransAmerica Pyramid. Thanks, Tricia!)

Coit Tower

The fog rolling in over the Golden Gate Bridge. You can just see a little bit of the top.

The top of Lombard Street. I was wearing heels and my feet were already killing me, so there was no way I was going to walk down it. Fortunately, Nathaniel didn't seem to mind. He had some sort of mental check list that we had to accomplish. And once we'd seen it and he'd taken a picture, he was good.

The Bay Bridge. Which was closed for Labor Day weekend. Because, ya know, nobody EVER drives anywhere during Labor Day weekend.

That's Alcatraz WAY off in the distance.

Nathaniel, my little tourist.

"That's a HUGE anchor!"

Finally, the sea lions.

And then we schlepped back along the crowded wharf to take a cable car back to the hotel, but the line was ridiculously long. My feet and pregnant belly and I consulted with one another and decided to take a wonderful, blessed cab. Our cab driver had a sense of humor, too. While going down one of those terrifyingly steep hills, he yelled, "Oh, no! The brakes are out!!!"

Hysterical.