When the boys ended up on different schedules this spring, the unexpected upside was that each child got a dedicated trip. I took Toby to San Francisco for a compact, meaningful getaway — an individual family outing that felt both calm and celebratory. The goal was simple: slow down, reconnect with relatives and fill a few quiet hours with small rituals that usually get lost in the rush of full-family vacations. That shift from a big group dynamic to a one-on-one rhythm made ordinary moments stand out.
We arrived and went straight to my sister Lucy’s home, where an old ritual carried us through the evening. My niece and I have a running tradition of playing Block Blast while chatting about everything and nothing; it’s a gentle pause that feels like home. After a coastal walk and a simple pasta dinner, the game and conversation stretched into comfortable silences and laughs. The mix of laughter, handheld gaming and knowing looks is a small but steady thread in our family, a repeating social ritual that anchors visits.
Coastal moments and city snapshots
One morning we walked out to Sutro Baths, the evocative ruins by the sea — once a large public indoor pool complex — where the ocean air and fog make everything feel cinematic. We lingered on the cliffs and let the water sounds set the pace; those kinds of walks are the trip’s quiet highlights. On a lighter note, we picked up a small comic book as a souvenir for Anton back home, something that felt perfectly right: a modest, tangible memory that tells a story in its own way. These low-key finds are the things you bring back that actually get used and loved.
Ferry Building, Lombard and waterfront strolls
Another afternoon was all about the classic city circuits: wandering the stalls at the Ferry Building, watching ferries come and go, and driving down Lombard Street with its famous curves. It’s nearly impossible to capture that twisty drive in a single photograph; the experience is felt more than framed. We paused for coffee, browsed local goods and traced the shoreline on foot. Those moments of movement — walking, standing, pointing at the bay — kept the day flowing, and the city’s familiar landmarks acted like bookmarks in a weekend diary.
Practicalities: transport, packing and tiny surprises
Packing felt easier than usual because I stuck to a simple palette: mostly black, white, cream, gray and navy so everything mixed and matched. The packing strategy — a few jackets, shirts, jeans and shoes — made mornings painless and photos cohesive. We borrowed my sister’s car for most errands, but treated ourselves to a ride in a self-driving Waymo just for fun. Watching the steering wheel rotate with no hands on it is oddly disconcerting at first and then reassuring; the vehicle’s behavior — smooth, deliberate and cautious — quickly builds trust. It turned an ordinary ride into a small modern marvel.
Observations on autonomous rides
The Waymo felt like a model student behind the wheel: stopping completely for every stop sign and following traffic patiently. My brother-in-law Jeevan told a great anecdote about seeing ten Waymos trailing a garbage truck up a hill without trying to overtake it, which made everyone laugh. It’s those little stories — about technology behaving with almost comical politeness — that create shared memories. The ride sparked conversation about how comfortable we are with new tech in everyday life and how those micro-interactions become part of the travel narrative.
Friends, a game and family measurements
We connected with friends like Julia and her toddler, who treated teenage Toby like a celebrity; the toddler’s wide-eyed admiration was charming and funny. A highlight was going to a Warriors game with pals — a true nail-biter that finished 109-106 in the final minute. The energy in the arena was electric and the victory felt communal. Back home we had a cousins’ dinner and even performed an impromptu height check, with Dr. Kalanithi jokingly asking if we were the same height and me replying, “not even close.” Those small competitions and jokes stitch the visit together.
When it was time to leave we said our goodbyes, packed the car and kept stepping over a sleeping passenger’s foot on the plane — a silly little ending to a joyful weekend. The trip felt full of ordinary delights: walks by the water, warm family rituals, a close game and a dose of modern transport curiosity. I keep in touch with my sister through quick five-minute phone calls, and those tiny check-ins feel as steady as the visits themselves. Short check-in calls and weekend getaways together are how we keep the family thread strong, whether we live nearby or far away.