Happy New Year!
This is a bit old, but I’ve been a little behind sorting through photos on my camera and what not.
Over Thanksgiving break, I drove to San Francisco with a friend and visited the California Academy of Sciences. You know, it’s the one with the new living roof by Renzo Piano. It was completed in September, I believe. And since late summer, it’s been the talk of every other travel magazine, newspaper travel section, and new brochure about what’s next in green.
I had to go see it for myself! Here’s the story.
My friend and I parked and arrived at a reasonable time (around 10 am), but we could see through large panels of glass that the place (roof included) was already bloated with masses of people. From various hilly vantage points in Golden Gate Park, it looked like it was covered with swarms of ants.
Yep, at no later than 11 am, the manned ticket booth stopped selling tickets, and all the kiosks were likewise dry. It was a huge bummer, but not having been to San Francisco in a while, I tried to make a day of it.
We talked to a docent about restaurant recommendations for lunch. There was a ramen place nearby that was supposed to be excellent. The docent seemed to sympathize with us—driving to San Francisco on our very last full day in the Bay Area, only to have a ramen lunch. Not that I would have minded ramen (I can in fact eat it every day!). Anyhow, he surreptitiously said, out of hearing of other patrons, that we could buy tickets after our lunch. Excellent.
The ramen place indeed lived up to its praise. And after a quick detour to a couple of stores, we soon found ourselves at the front entrance to the Academy of Sciences again. But at this time it was too late. They were completely out of tickets. I’m pretty sure we weren’t shedding tears or pouting, but the docent again didn’t turn us away.
With no tickets even to sell, the docent signed us in as his guests—which meant we got in free of charge. My friend and I were both so grateful for his generosity. I don’t know that anyone would do that for strangers, especially that day, when hundreds of people must have been turned away with no tickets. We wanted to do something for him—buy him dinner, a drink, send a gift his way. But he said to us, “No, don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t mention it,” and we took his hint. Wink wink.
So here are a couple of photos from the trip, made possible for the generous docent. Thank you!
The roof was beautiful. I could see that it was a huge undertaking, layers of soil, plant varieties, irrigation (I think), porthole skylights, and crazy security! Being high above where most of the buildings were too far to be visible, it felt like it was a strange mix of the Hobbits’ Shire and Teletubbies. Excuse all the pop culture references, but I have never seen anything like this roof executed in real life. I don’t have anything “real” to compare this to.
Interestingly though, Hobbit culture is very nature-centric, so I’m sure their hillside bungalows have the insulation and energy efficiency that the living roof is aiming for. Make your roof green, and let nature take care of the heating.
The crowds were unbelievable. My friend and I had a pass to the planetarium show, but the line was so horrific that we spent the rest of the day exploring the aquarium. I haven’t been to the Steinhart Aquarium since I was about 13 or 14, so I was excited to return and see what’s changed.
I remember the Steinhart of 10+ years ago as a bit more ivory tower than aquarium. Lot of pale marble and maybe even some filigreed railings, if I remember correctly. Footsteps echoed off the walls. But no more. Simple carpeting, reclaimed wood, orange accents, a nice sans serif typeface for signage, not to mention great lighting and more interactive exhibitions.
The place was huge! Each room was small, but each led to more and more rooms. It was never ending and one could easily spend 3 or 4 hours just casually exploring—which we did, until it was closing time.
Was this worth the braving the crowds and the wait? Yes. Will I go back again? Definitely. And I hope soon, on a non-holiday weekday, if possible.
