Our room at the Huntington Hotel in Nob Hill was, by big city hotel standards, immense. It sported vast windows offering fabulous views to the south.* Unfortunately, the curtains closed at 8PM and so did my admiration of the world outside.

If I hadn’t imparted clearly enough the tribulation of maneuvering this city’s hills, I’ll add that pushing a 20-pound double stroller laden with 36 pounds of offspring uphill constitutes a major bitch. And, restraining it while going downhill is an exercise in frayed nerves, as one slip of a finger may send the stroller careening down a 15% grade. That hills are San Francisco’s most distinctive feature isn’t news. Yet, it’s considerate to advise visitors of the need for an extra helping of carbs in your morning diet to tackle the day’s wanderings. Also, driving becomes an entirely new experience. First is the fear your car won’t make it all the way up to the intersection, and if  it does, that you’ll shatter the knee of a pedestrian jumping into the crosswalk. Then, rounding the crest and plunging downhill, that you’ll shatter both knees and all parts attached thereto if your brakes don’t oblige.

* Our pockets are not deep nor our tastes refined enough for this life (four days, really) of luxury; all it took was a daring click on Hotwire for these royal accommodations at a reduced rate.