Day 1 – March 9th, 2026
Two Delays, Not Ideal, But not the end of the world. Airports, after all, are built for exactly this kind of chaos. So we made the best of it.
First came a Whataburger stop that felt less like fast food and more like a small, greasy victory. Then a candy store run, because if you’re already stuck in an airport, you might as well commit to the bit. Armed with sugar and questionable judgment, we wandered the terminal taking ridiculous photos, and generally leaning into the absurdity of travel days.
A couple airports and a lot of waiting later, we finally landed in San Francisco. The quiet satisfaction of actually making it.
We grabbed the rental car, threw the bags in the back, and pointed ourselves toward the hills.
Day 2 – March 10th, 2026
San Francisco. A city that’s been sung about so many times it almost feels unfair to add another verse. But here we are anyway.
Morning came slow through the windows of the Airbnb, a place that feels designed for this city. Light spilling in from everywhere. Wood floors. You wake up here and immediately feel like you should be outside doing something.
So we headed down from the hills looking for breakfast.
IHOP was the move. Nothing fancy. Just stacks of pancakes piled high. Coffee doing its job. Plates wiped clean. Exactly what you want before a long day wandering around a city like this.
We wrapped up, headed back to the house, grabbed the rest of our gear, and rolled out toward the bay.
Dinner happened at Crissy Field. A picnic. Where the food almost becomes secondary because of what’s sitting right in front of you. The Golden Gate Bridge rising out of the water like something that shouldn’t exist but somehow does. Campers had been waiting to see it all day, and when it finally appeared there was that quiet moment where everyone just stared.
It’s one of those structures that makes you wonder how anyone pulled it off. Steel, cables, towers punching sky high. A monument to stubborn human ambition.
We did what everyone does. Walked around. Took pictures. Drove the nearby roads. Eventually we ran across the bridge because sometimes the only way to understand a place is to move through it. Feeling the wind. Watching the water move below.
Last stop of the night was the old chocolate factory. Cultivar Ghirardelli Square. These days it’s more of a small plaza than a factory, but the spirit is still there. A little slice of nostalgia that feels like it wandered out of the 1950s and got gently updated for modern times.
Ice cream was mandatory. Banana splits. A few strawberry passion sundae. Thick shakes. Sweet, cold, indulgent.
By the time we finished, the night had settled over the city.
The drive back felt different. San Francisco after dark is quieter. The crowds thin out. Streetlights bounce off the pavement. The hills glow softly in the distance.
A completely different version of the same city. We got home, closed the door, and called it a night.
Day 3 – March 11th, 2026
Here’s the thing about being a tourist: sometimes you just lean into it. So that’s what we did.
The weapon of choice was the big red bus. You’ve seen it, the double-decker rolling circus of cameras, windblown hair, and people pointing at buildings like they just discovered architecture. At this point we’ve been on enough of these things that someone should hand us a loyalty card. Maybe a badge. “Frequent Tourist.” Naturally we claimed the top deck. Best seat in the house. Wind in your face, city rolling past like a movie.
San Francisco does not exactly hide its charms. The streets twist and fold into neighborhoods that all feel like their own little worlds, corner cafés, tiny shops, restaurants that smell like something good is happening inside. Then there it is, the Golden Gate Bridge. Big. Red. Iconic.
Eventually hunger kicks in, as it always should. We made a pit stop for Mexican food. Seafood salad, a pile of nachos, burritos big enough to require commitment. No regrets.
Back on the bus we went, looping our way through the city until we landed back at the Ferry Building. If you’ve never wandered through there, it’s basically a temple to good snacks. Markets, little shops, people milling around with coffee and bags full of things they probably didn’t plan on buying.
And of course, tradition demands ice cream. Rules are rules. Night settled in as we cruised past the Painted Ladies, those famous pastel houses lined up like they know they’re being photographed. One last look at the city before heading home.
Back to the house. Straight into the hot tub. The perfect ending to a long day of playing tourist. Tomorrow? Different plan. We hit the water. Pier 39 is waiting.
Day 4 – March 12th, 2026
Final day in San Francisco before wheels up tomorrow. You know how these last days go, you try to squeeze every last drop out of a place before it spits you back out into the real world.
We headed down to Pier 39 and jumped on a boat. The bay was doing its thing, wind in your face, gulls screaming overhead as we cruised past the Golden Gate Bridge. Then around Alcatraz, sitting there in the middle of the water like a reminder that San Francisco has always had a little edge to it.
Back on land, we wandered Pier 39. Shops, street noise, that carnival energy. The sea lions were out, barking like they run the joint. Honestly, they probably do.
Lunch was at Bubba Gump Shrimp Company, because sometimes you lean all the way into the tourist thing and just enjoy it. Shrimp, laughs, and a birthday celebration for camper Stephanie. Not a bad way to spend the afternoon.
We wrapped the day the right way. Back home, feet up, bags half-packed, and a solid pan of lasagna for dinner.
Alarm’s set early. Tomorrow we’re headed back to Iowa. See y’all there.
Day 5 – March 13th, 2026
Off we go. One stop in Dallas, then the last leg that would spit us back out where we started. Just the long, slow choreography of air travel.
You walk the aisle like it’s a tired parade. Doze off in crooked angles that guarantee a stiff neck later. Wake up, stare out the window at nothing but cloud and wing. Time stretches out in that strange, suspended way it does at 30,000 feet.
Mostly, you’re just waiting. Waiting for the wheels to drop. Waiting for the thump of landing gear. Waiting to be home. See y’all next week in the office.
Link to Photo Album: https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjCNi2d