The Golden Gate Bridge is a wonder to behold. It is massive. It is vermilion orange. And it’s cold up there, any time of year. It is a wonder mostly because of the length of the bridge. It is about 4,200 feet and was opened in 1937. Most of the bridges on its scale were opened in the last few decades, as technology improved. But nope, no screwing around in CA. Need to get across that bay and into WINE COUNTRY as soon as possible at 5 p.m. on Friday afternoon. (And as far away from Oakland as possible.)
As I stated in my previous blog entry, the fog in San Francisco likes to hang out for the duration. It’s like the annoying neighbor who doesn’t just say hi and keep walking, but wants to stop and ask about your day, and then ask what you’re having for dinner, and maybe ask if you have a glass of water (even though he lives three houses away). Before you know it, he’s there eating your best ribeye and leaves before it’s time to do the dishes. That’s the San Fran fog.
On the day we went to see the bridge, I didn’t know if I was up for walking the nearly mile-long span in the wind. We weren’t even going to be able to get any good long photos of the bridge (giant fluffy white clouds only). But detail shots, we did get a few:
Have you ever been somewhere you have seen in films hundreds of times before you actually saw it in person? Did it live up to your expectations?