City by the Bay

I almost forgot; two weeks ago I was in Berkeley, California. Already it seems months ago. My dad and I flew out so that he could visit his sister, my Aunt Charlotte. They hadn't seen each other in fifteen years. Whomever of the cousins that could make it did. It was nice.

The weather was cool and breezy, overcast in the mornings and sunny in the afternoon. Our hotel was next to the Marina, with a small nature park on the other side. The restaurant had floor to ceiling windows overlooking the crowded masts. Beyond the Marina a long pier stretched out into the Bay.

Our mobility was limited with my father in a wheelchair. I chose that hotel because I wanted to know I was on vacation, but more than that I wanted the calming influence of the water for Dad; he's eighty four. We got both. I believe this was the most relaxing vacation I've ever had, even though Dad needed medicine around the clock, and help getting up, down and around. I didn't hardly go anywhere. I never made it into the City, just looked at it from across the bay.

Oh, sure, we went some places. we went to Dan and Valarie's, twice. A beautiful little house in Rockridge; compact, cozy, with skylights, art on the walls, and a private garden out back. We had a cookout. There were chickens next door. We went to restaurants too. The real highlight of the trip, besides seeing people, was the food. There was soooo much good food. And various errands took us to Berkeley, mostly just to the drugstore, though a couple of restaurants were involved.

One of these drugstore outings was particularly enjoyable. A friend of mine from college, Karl, who I hadn't seen since the early 1980s lives in the West Bay. He drove over for a visit. We talked for an hour or so while Dad played around in the hotel computer room, then I drug him off on an errand. They had only given us enough of Dad's primary medicine to last half the trip so we had to go get some more. After that mission was accomplished we strolled through a flea market we'd passed on the way there. The sun had come out.

It was definitely a California flea market, there were at least three massage booths, all with lines. There was some nice merchandise too. Some of it was junk, of course, but much of it was interesting. I particularly liked a classic picnic basket and an art deco table lamp; there was African art and hours could have been spent looking through the vintage vinyl, but that would have left Dad hanging. Amidst the din a drum circle provided a background beat. One of the vendors came out to give Dad some attention. He did a handshake ritual with him which Dad ad-libbed well, then he turned to me. After the third grip I slid my hand out to do the finger snap but his fist stayed tight expecting something else. We're so passe in the Midwest. It's all good.

After the flea market we parked in a trendy area and strolled through the shops, ending up at an outdoor cafe talking and people watching. Then it was time for Dad and I to get ready for our planned events and for Karl to get back to his busy life.

That was the most touristy thing that we did; no art, no music, no museums. Dan and Valarie were full of suggestions, but Dad just wasn't up to it. But it was good, it was very good. Like I say, it turned out to be a relaxing vacation, something practically unheard of when visiting a city.