Bison and beach

We were up and out by around 9:30 am — actual enthusiasm in our step and no flu dragging us down for once. The plan was simple: pick up where we left off in Golden Gate Park a few days earlier. The weather wasn’t making any dramatic statements, just a cool morning with the sort of gentle grey skies that somehow suit a stroll through a city park perfectly.

By Golly its Bison

Armed with Muni passes and caffeine confidence, we set off for another dose of San Francisco serenity and surprises. The park had more to reveal — and this time, we were determined to tackle it with full stomachs and fewer tissues.

Bison Doing What They Do Best

We jumped back on the 5L towards Ocean Beach and hopped off just beyond the Japanese Tea Garden, heading into the park to catch sight of the resident bison herd. They were a bit distant, but we managed to snap a few decent shots — horns and all.

These magnificent beasts have lived here since 1891, part of a conservation programme that feels almost surreal given how close they came to extinction. Once roaming North America 30 million strong, their numbers plummeted to just a few hundred by the late 1800s. It wasn’t just hunting — government policy actively targeted them to disrupt Native American food sources, and habitat loss sealed the deal. That any survived at all is remarkable.

Attack Of The Golden Gate Park Roots

We should’ve headed back to the main road to walk down to the beach, but instead chose to meander through the park — a decision that came with consequences. Tree roots had taken over much of the pavement, making the wheelchair route practically unusable. Jane had to walk most of it, which wasn’t ideal, but the sunshine made up for the struggle.

Eventually, after about forty minutes of mildly heroic navigation, we popped out at the Dutch windmills overlooking the Pacific. Hunger struck, so we ventured over to a nearby row of shops, dodging the giant Safeway and searching for something with a bit more soul.

That’s when we struck gold.

TJ Burgers — a modest little spot with no neon branding or plastic booths — was recommended by someone passing by as we squinted at the menu. Inside, it was warm, welcoming, and exactly what we needed. Burgers, large fries, and a generously poured coffee came to about twelve dollars, and it might well have been one of the tastiest meals of the trip.

Nothing beats fresh air, big flavours, and a bit of luck.

Fountains, Forts & Fangs

Ligion Of Honor

From our burger haven, it was just a short stroll to catch the number 18 bus up to the Legion of Honor — a fine arts museum perched on a hill overlooking the city. Art galleries aren’t exactly our calling, but the views from the car park are spectacular. Clear skies, sweeping panoramas, and one of the cleanest fountains we’ve ever seen. Honestly, not a crisp packet in sight — a rare miracle when you're used to British town centres.

After taking a few photos around the fountain and its glistening no-litter glory, we headed round the side of the museum and slipped into the woods. I’d plotted one of my “trust me, it’s scenic” shortcuts — a winding path past old military bunkers that looked charmingly forgotten. Quaint, peaceful… until we later learned that the area’s full of rattlesnakes. Yes — actual rattlesnakes. Slithery, fangy, not-a-pet material.

Where The Snakes Hang Out🐍

Apparently, even in winter, they like to pop out and enjoy the sunshine, which was exactly what we were doing. That’s when it dawned on me: we weren’t just out for a stroll — we were potentially on the menu. And just to round off the wildlife bingo, mountain lions have been spotted roaming this area too (we found all this out later). No actual sightings on our jaunt, thankfully — though I did spend a good portion of the walk side-eyeing every rustle in the bushes like we were auditioning for Nature’s Top Five Terrifying Mistakes.

Now, I won’t claim I’m a sprinter by any means, but I did mentally calculate how fast I could run compared to Jane. Not proud of it... but let’s just say if anything tried to eat us, I liked my odds. Sorry Jane. At least one of us would make it onto the evening news.

Eventually, we emerged unscathed onto some quiet residential streets in the Outer Richmond district, greeted by pastel-painted houses and gardens bursting with — of all things — cacti. Bees buzzed as if it were July, and with the sun beaming down, it was genuinely hard to believe this was still winter.

Sunset, Souvenirs and Soft Hippy Vibes

Relaxing With A Coffee

From where we stood, it was only a short walk to Lands’ End — perched on a cliff that overlooks the weathered ruins of Sutro Baths. It’s one of those places that makes you stop talking and just… take it in. The Pacific stretched out like a sheet of burnished silver, and with the sun shining down on a gloriously warm afternoon, the only sensible thing to do was grab a coffee from the nearby shop, sit on the wall, and soak up the view.

It’s hard to explain the feeling of sitting there quietly beside Jane. No traffic. No crowds. Just stillness and sea breeze. One of those rare moments where the world feels like it’s politely stepped aside to give you space. Those are the ones you carry with you.

Ocean Beach & Cliff House

From there, we dipped into the national park gift shop for a few souvenirs — I’ll admit I’ve got a soft spot for keyrings and those oddly charming magnets you never know what to do with. Then we wandered past the old Cliff House pumping station, which once kept the Sutro Baths flowing back in the 1900s. It’s now a very pricey restaurant, but we popped into the adjacent gift shop all the same. Seems both places belong to the same company — and they’ve definitely embraced the luxury label. Everything had a hefty price tag, including the largest T-shirts I’ve ever laid eyes on. Honestly, I reckon you could rig one up as a marquee.

Something we’ve noticed in the States: buying clothes is a bit of a guessing game. I always end up needing a large, which I suspect is code for “tourist sizing.” Especially when most of the visitors seem to be from places like Japan, where proportions are generally more modest.

From the clifftop, we took the sloping road down to beach level. The sun was starting to dip by then, and we perched for a while to watch it slip behind the horizon. Even though we’ve been here before, this stretch of coast is one we’re always drawn back to — the kind of place that wouldn’t feel out of place in a dreamy romantic film. Watching the sun go down over the Pacific Ocean with Jane by my side... it doesn’t get much better.

Ocean Beach, Sunset Over The Pacific

The beach was still busy. Fires flickered across the sand in classic hippy style, glowing softly against the warm evening air. By morning, the tide would wash it all clean — a fresh canvas for new memories. Pure magic.

We wandered along the seafront, back to that small parade of shops we’d passed earlier, and ducked into the Safeway superstore — ready to stock up and settle in.

Grocery Shopping

There’s something oddly satisfying about stepping into a Safeway in San Francisco — shelves towering with choices, prices that make Walgreens look like Fort Knox, and that glorious feeling of having hit the jackpot in supermarket territory. We both love shopping here, but with so few branches dotted around the city, any chance to dive in is seized with delight.

Nom Nom

We didn’t hold back either — beer, biscuits, crisps, and anything else that whispered “treat yourself.” Within minutes, our modest little errand had turned into a full-blown haul. Turned out we’d seriously misjudged how much we could carry. The bags were hefty enough to count as gym equipment.

Thankfully, the bus stop was just across the road, sparing us the long haul with arms stretched like pack mules. We’d picked up a couple of Safeway’s reusable bags — the kind you have to use here since San Francisco’s banned plastic ones. These were proper sturdy, and stylish enough that no one back home’s likely to be sporting the same look. Nothing says “well-travelled” quite like a supermarket tote with character.

Crush Ride Bus Ride

We didn’t have to wait long for the bus — one of the perks of San Francisco’s real-time shelter boards. It’s always comforting to see a row of buses lined up across the road, even if none seem in a particular hurry to leave. Eventually one peeled off, and we climbed aboard.

By now it was completely dark, but the streets were still lively — it was only around 6:30 pm, after all. About fifteen minutes into the ride, the bus was properly packed. One of those “crush rides” where elbows become acquaintances and personal space is more concept than reality.

The ride back to 5th and Market took around 35 minutes, and from there it was just a short shuffle to the hotel. Both of us were knackered — it had been a long day full of fresh air, wildlife drama, and epic coastal views. Easily one of the best we’ve had so far.

Back in the room, we flicked on the telly, demolished the sandwiches and biscuits we’d snagged from Safeway, and gave in to the comfort of big pillows and city hum outside the window. A full belly, a tired grin, and the slow fade into sleep.

Reflections on the Day: Bison, Burgers & Bus-Sized T-Shirts

Friday arrived with actual pep in our step — a rare and welcome upgrade from the flu-shuffle of earlier days. Golden Gate Park was calling us back, and we answered with caffeine, Muni passes, and the kind of optimism usually reserved for people who haven’t yet Googled “rattlesnake habitats.”

First stop: the bison paddock. These shaggy legends have been grazing here since 1891, and while they weren’t exactly posing for selfies, we managed a few decent snaps. Their survival story is sobering — from 30 million strong to near extinction, thanks to a cocktail of hunting, policy sabotage, and habitat loss. Seeing them now, horns glinting in the morning light, felt like witnessing a quiet miracle.

Our route through the park was scenic but rebellious. Tree roots had staged a coup against the pavement, forcing Jane to walk most of it. Not ideal, but the sunshine softened the struggle. Forty minutes later, we emerged at the Dutch windmills, hungry and hopeful.

Enter TJ Burgers — a no-frills gem with zero neon and maximum flavour. Burgers, fries, and coffee for twelve dollars? Bargain. It was the kind of meal that makes you want to write a thank-you note to the cook and frame the receipt.

Next came the Legion of Honor, where the fountain was so pristine it could’ve starred in a detergent ad. We took photos, admired the view, and then — in classic “trust me, it’s scenic” fashion — I led us into the woods. Quaint bunkers, peaceful paths… and, as we later discovered, rattlesnakes. Yes, actual ones. Apparently, we’d wandered into San Francisco’s unofficial audition zone for “Wildlife That Could Ruin Your Day.”

No sightings, thankfully — just a lot of rustling and me mentally calculating my sprint speed versus Jane’s. Not proud, but survival instincts are rarely flattering.

We emerged into the Outer Richmond, greeted by pastel houses and cacti that looked like they’d been plucked from a desert postcard. From there, it was a gentle stroll to Lands’ End, where the Pacific shimmered like a silver sheet and the ruins of Sutro Baths whispered stories of old glamour. We perched with coffee, watched the waves, and let the world hush around us. One of those rare moments where everything aligns — sea breeze, silence, and someone you love beside you.

Souvenirs followed, including a T-shirt so large it could double as a tent. American sizing remains a mystery — somewhere between “roomy” and “portable gazebo.” Still, the gift shop charm was undeniable, even if the price tags required deep breathing.

As the sun dipped behind the horizon, we wandered the beach, fires flickering in soft hippy style. It felt like the city had exhaled — a warm, glowing pause before the tide reset everything.

Safeway was our final triumph: snacks, beer, and reusable bags sturdy enough to survive a minor apocalypse. The bus ride home was a classic crush — elbows, backpacks, and the occasional stranger’s shampoo scent. But we made it, tired and triumphant.

Back at the hotel, we collapsed into pillows, demolished our haul, and let the city hum lull us to sleep. A day of wildlife, wonder, and wearable marquee tents. Easily one of the best yet.