Stomping back in the old 'hood

"Let's get away for the weekend!" -- not really having a plan, but that usually works best.  Point the car in some random direction and drive.  "You decide".  Baba decides San Francisco -- close enough to get to the kids if we need, just a stone throw away from the bridge.

"Remember the Stanyan Hotel by our old neighborhood?". Great!  How many times have we driven by this old Victorian hotel, sitting in the periphery of Golden Gate Park? -- nestled amidst the Cole Valley neighborhood, across the street from McDonalds and entry almost to the famed Haight-Ashbury district.  NO VACANCY sign prominently displayed.  We had to ask anyway.  Nothing left for missed chances..."We may never go this way again!"

Despite the hotel receptionist's initial reticence -- we were shown room #301.  WOW!  A two -bedroom suite equipped with living room (with fold-away bed), bathroom, shower and functioning kitchen....a whole flat really.  It would be awesome to bring the whole family and just kick it in the city overnight...BUT definitely too much room for just the two of us!  "Are you sure you cannot arrange for us to have a smaller room?". This question posed to the receptionist after we overheard him turning away some people.  "Let me see what I can do...".   Ahh, the magic of personality and "presence".

How long has it been since we walked the same sidewalks?  1994.  Tamba the baby then --  Eighteen years!  Working as nurse, commuting to Hayward with a 7 year old  Yasin (he was my BFF then) in tow.  Old address:  1107 Stanyan -- still there, minus the old entry door.  "Remember how *** tried to chop down the door?"....some memories ARE funny now!   Walking up and down the city slopes -- concrete hills lined with aging Victorians almost if not, a century old.  Baba and I agreeing that our old flat had old souls living in it -- ghosts, jinns -- whatever -- they occupied the same living space we did. Visiting the corner stores, transformed through time -- the family-owned market across the street now a Walgreen's and the hip flower shop next door, a dimmer shadow of its former self.  The parking lot still there...I remember coming home late at night with a sleeping child slung across my shoulders, a days end from dance classes.

Haight-Ashbury at night.  Lined with street people wafting human smells and tangled hair and clothes
equally in disarray.  Strong smell of alchohol and the enebriated sounds welling from their throats. Baba constantly spitting.  This a signal to me that he finds the whole scene distasteful.  Head back to the safety haven of pristine lobby and hotel room.

Late night dinner of left over Indian food and Whole Foods create-your-own green salad.  Picnic on the floor.  Priceless.  Dessert:  peanut-butter brownie.  Netflix movie night:  Bollywood!

"Baabul" -- a MUST see if you are a sap for romance and happy endings!!!