We spend almost all day sightseeing in San Francisco. We saw everything, we had planned to see and now our tour guide was taking us to a new place. “Where are you taking us?” we asked. “You’ll see!” he replied.
We were driving to the Golden Gate bridge, drove on it, and passed it. We were driving to the top of the mountain apparently, because the houses we could see from the window became smaller…houses with huge pools, yachts…this town or neighbourhood reminded me of Orange County.The car stopped. We were high enough. The huge parking was almost empty. We took our jackets, because it was way too cold. The wind was strong, but we weren’t afraid. We followed a small, narrow, and to be honest-criminal path. I was just thinking how it reminds me of the beginning of a horror movie, and was planning on going back in the car, when I saw a terrace before me. Yes-a terrace, with something like a small path/bridge leading to it. It had railing. Clever, because it was very high. We were feeling like little birds up in the sky. We could see the towns beneath us as dots, and could barely recognize San Francisco in the distance. Golden Gate was hidden behind the top of the mountain, and only a part from one of its towers could be seen. Amazing view from the top, and may be I would enjoy it even more if the wind didn’t try to push me off the terrace.