On Sundays, We Have Brunch

I miss Sunday brunches in San Francisco... and more specifically, Sunday brunches in the Castro, the veritable gay Mecca of the world.  There are so many fantastic and amazingly delicious little bistros and cafes, all replete with eggs benedict, bacon, mimosas, and bloody marys - the latter two generally having some kind of bottomless form.  Sure, there are Sunday brunches elsewhere, but they just aren't the same.  And it's always one of those game on brunches when one is specifically told to take BART into the city so no one has to drive.

Aside from the amazing food, there's always something to see and someone to meet in the Castro, whether it be the random guerrilla artwork that pops up or some bedazzled festival-goer.  And among all of the characters, I've met some genuinely hilarious, accepting, and fun people there - it's a refreshing thing to be in a place where people can have a good time without passing judgment or ridicule.  In fact, we saw some of the attendees of Dore Alley later in the afternoon.  An offshoot of the Folsom Street Festival, Dore Alley is also a leather and BDSM festival and the attendees definitely get all decked out with leashes, harnesses, and assless chaps.  To date, I still haven't managed a trip to the Castro without seeing at least a few naked butts at some point during the day, but more power to them... I definitely would not be shaking my cheeks to the wind.

Don't worry, I kept all the photos G rated.

Above-ground power lines

No mistaking which neighborhood we're in

Bear crossing?  Pretty sure that's not a city-sanctioned sign!

Aptly-named "millionaire's bacon" - so good.  And I inhaled the rest of my brunch before getting pictures :(.

Found hanging off the side of a building - a gay mobile with kissing Ken dolls.  I really wish I had my zoom lens on, but had to settle for the 35mm since we were migrating to the next stop.

Hours to Date: 36