Fisherman's Wharf and salt taffy

If everything seems a little blurred, there is a reason. We had arrived in San Francisco on Sunday after a 12-hour flight and had booked into the lovely Adelaide Hostel on Isadora Duncan Lane. (Apparently Duncan was a famous dancer, Georgie tells me). At Fisherman's Wharf, we had devoured a bag of mixed Ghirardelli salt taffy lollies while watching cartoons and a black and white Japanese samurai movie in the open air at The Cannery. So the lights on the walk home were probably blurred by the sugar high.