The City by the City by the Bay

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After our visit to Monterey's Coast, we hit our first hotel stop after nine days of camping. Emeryville is located on the East Bay side of the SF area, adjacent to Berkeley, Oakland, and our old neighborhood! When we were planning our overnight stops in the Bay Area, we knew we wanted to be in the city, not camping somewhere farther away, and after spending a little time on Expedia we learned that we'd be paying big bucks for parking and pet fees if we stayed in anyplace touristy (Fisherman's Wharf, Union Square, etc). It was time to capitalize on our familiarity with our former hometown and find someplace off the beaten path in the "Easy" Bay.  This place actually ended up being the first official online booking of our trip's lodging plans, so it had been quite awhile since I'd perused the hotel's location and amenities by the time we arrived for our reservation.  We followed directions to a shining 12-story building right in the middle of several swanky shopping centers and the Amtrak station (naturally). Our suite had a living room with separate bedroom, DVD player, and kitchenette with full-sized fridge, table- and cookware, and stovetop. Cha-ching!
We'd already been considering extending our stay from our pre-arranged two nights to a few more, and the comfort of our room solidified the deal. We grabbed a bellhop's cart, loaded it down with all of our bags (minus camping gear), and dumped our dusty assortment on the floor while we devised a game plan. Alton was rewarded for surviving the trip thus far by letting him watch Cars, one of the DVDs we'd brought along with us, and Andy and I unearthed all of our clothing to take a laundry inventory. When it was discovered that I had yet a few clean garments and the guys did not, I took a HOT shower ("Hello, Front Desk? We need more soap."), got dressed, and left the two AJs in towels while I loaded every stitch we had into the car and headed for a laundromat. 
After the first couple GPS searches for a nearby "laundry" led me to dry cleaners, I threw up the white flag and drove a little farther to our old Oakland subsection of Rockridge. The little wash 'n fold resided on a busy streetcorner, making it perfect access for students from California College of the Arts and hip metro apartment-dwellers with no machines of their own. Part of my project was procuring dinner for our family, and I'd deliberated on the mechanics of putting clothes in the washer or dryer, rushing out to get dinner, then returning as the cycle ended to retrieve my belongings and add more quarters as needed. Andy was concerned about the safety of our stuff at the laundromat in my absence, a legitimate fear in most cases...except this one.  I sorted into the big commercial washers and doled out my quarters, then leaned against the counter (no chairs in the place, probably to discourage squatters) with my paperback and nothing to look at but spinning clothing and my fellow patrons. Amongst the aforementioned students and young professionals, neighborhood weirdos and lab rat types, there was me: the Kamper. I brought in all my belongings in a motley crew of grime-spattered duffel bags, sported a pair of athletic warmup pants and a black fleece sweatshirt, stinky closed-toe Keens and a bathing suit instead of a bra...seriously, people should have been hiding their clothes from ME. 
Well, I held out, not going anywhere in my sweaty, weird outfit 'til the dry cycle with my novel on my slab of counter (mainly because I needed to claim at least a few dryers away from the Joel Grey stunt double, who was stuffing three or four single items into the rest of them), but then I got so hungry that I darted out to an Indian joint a few doors down to grab some freshly grilled Naan. Before long, the clothes were done, so was my snack, and I was able to move on to the good part of my errand: Zachary's pizza! Stuffed, deep-dish pizza with rave reviews from around the globe and very much missed by Andy and me since our move to Hillsboro a few years back, where we have still not found good takeout pizza that even comes close to Zachary's. The Portland gourmand scene certainly holds its own in terms of the thin crust, wood-fired artisan pizzas, but we've never had it so good as running a mile down the road to pick up a half-baked deep dish, finishing it in our oven at home, then enjoying the hot, tomato-and-cheese-covered deliciousness burning the roofs of our mouths.  
A little Zachary's and Lightning McQueen and we were ready to pass out. Bliss.

The next day we decided to keep our first of now FOUR days in the Bay Area pretty low-key and walk around the corner (getting to cross a tall pedestrian bridge to go over the train tracks!) to a nearby park.  On the way, of course an overexcited Minerva managed to mow Alton down on the sidewalk, earning him some more road rash scabbing on his arm AND spilling all of the snack cup he had in hand.  We did a mid-walk bandaid application and pressed on to the funky little park and its goofy playground. 

It looked like the same kind of postmodern jungle gym we saw in San Diego last summer.
My little twins regard the play structure together.

A nice nap, some more takeout (Chinese this time), and we were ready to gear up for San Francisco the next morning.  We left Minerva snuggled and snoozing in her bed at the hotel and drove over to Fisherman's Wharf (long underwear optional--brr!).

We walked around a bit, but all Alton wanted to do was ride a boat. Since we didn't think the big-ticket tourist liner out to Alcatraz was what he had in mind, we went with Plan B: the Exploratorium.

The Exploratorium is a hands-on science and discovery museum, much like our beloved OMSI back home. Two hours of Alton running from exhibit to exhibit pressing buttons and turning levers was just what the doctor ordered. 


(Andy and I had fun, too.)

After a nice long afternoon nap, the little guy and his parents got spruced up and ready to go out to dinner to Dopo, our favorite Italian place in the area. We were so early for their dinner seating, we were the first patrons in the door! Alton had fun playing with some origami fish Andy had made for him from an instructional book, a thoughtful "road trip" gift from Grammy and Grandpa. 

Proving that it's a small world after all, during our meal we ran into my college friend Steph who lives with her family in the East Bay. It was the first time we'd met their baby girl, and she reached for me with both arms right away!

Since we were having so much fun on "our" side of the Bay, the next day we opted for some playtime at a big park in Alameda (playground for me and Alton, our favorite former dog park for Andy and Minerva) before scooting back into Oakland and Lake Merritt, a lovely lagoon surrounded by parks, running trails, and a boathouse, where we rented our paddle boats for the day. 
(I think somewhere at home we have a picture of Andy in the same position with the same expression.)

Our little First Mate got his boat trip after all, sans island prison.

We ducked in to the iconic Fenton's Creamery for a sweet afternoon snack, then the usual nap before another dinner favorite (Hudson Oakland, this time), a little packing, and breakfast in the a.m. with some friends at Pizzaiolo, an upscale pizza place that has breakfast food, including to-die-for pumpkin fritters, in the morning.  Who knew? We tried for the Tilden Park Steam Train, but it was a weekday and they are only open during the year on weekends. Curses! And so on to our next destination....