Sometimes the Activity Is the Destination

Living in Modesto, we are incredibly lucky. In less than two hours, we can find ourselves in one of my favorite places on earth. Every time we head toward San Francisco, it feels like we are stepping out of our normal routines and into a mini vacation. The city has become one of those places that lets me breathe again. It is familiar enough to feel comfortable, but dynamic enough that every visit feels a little different from the last.

The reason for this particular trip was simple: The Phantom of the Opera.

Phantom has long been one of my white whale musicals. Back in high school, one of my best friends and I spent countless hours listening to Broadway soundtracks. We knew every word to Phantom of the Opera, Les Misérables, Miss Saigon, and just about every other musical we could get our hands on. We would sing them in the car, imagine the costumes, picture the sets, and create entire productions in our minds. While I have been fortunate enough to see many Broadway productions over the years, Phantom was one that had somehow always escaped me.

Before the show, we met our friends Amy and Bob for breakfast near the Orpheum. One of the things I love about San Francisco is how often it becomes the perfect meeting place. They drive in from Morgan Hill. We drive in from Modesto. Somehow the city becomes our shared playground for the day.

Breakfast at Sam's was one of those meals where everyone orders something different and the entire table spends the meal admiring what landed in front of everyone else. My chilaquiles were absolutely delicious, packed with flavor and easily some of the best I have ever had. Bob's avocado toast looked picture-perfect with beautifully poached eggs perched on top. Luke's chicken and waffles were fluffy, crispy, and everything chicken and waffles should be. Amy's grilled cheese with tomato bisque looked so good that I briefly questioned every life decision that had led me to order something else.

After breakfast, we spent the morning doing one of my favorite things to do in San Francisco: wandering. The farmers market around City Hall was in full swing, with vendors offering samples of sweet strawberries, juicy mulberries, and all sorts of produce that you do not always see in a traditional grocery store. One of the highlights was finding Turkish ice cream made from locally sourced goat and cow milk. It had that thick, stretchy texture that is all over Turkey travel social media, but tasting it fresh and handcrafted was an entirely different experience.

Part of what I love about San Francisco is the diversity that exists around every corner. Within a few blocks, you can experience different cultures, foods, languages, and traditions. The city feels alive in a way that always draws me in.

As we continued exploring, we noticed that a door was open at the historic Hearst Theatre. Curiosity got the better of us, and before long we found ourselves wandering through a nearly empty building admiring the architecture and exhibits inside. There was something fun about stumbling across a place that was never part of the plan. Those unexpected discoveries often become some of my favorite travel memories.

By the time we settled into our seats at the Orpheum, I already felt like the day had been a success. Then the lights dimmed. As those familiar opening notes of The Phantom of the Opera filled the theater, I was instantly transported back to high school. The costumes. The music. The sets. The voices. Everything that had lived in my imagination for so many years was unfolding right in front of me.

What surprised me most was how much I enjoyed finally understanding the story in a completely different way. I had listened to the music for years, but seeing the characters, their expressions, the staging, and the emotion behind every song brought a whole new appreciation for the production. It felt familiar and brand new all at the same time.

As we made our way back to the car, I realized I was still humming Music of the Night and replaying scenes from the show in my head. The smile that had settled onto my face sometime during Phantom seemed determined to stick around for the rest of the evening.

Looking ahead, I knew the coming week would be a busy one. There would be meetings, deadlines, responsibilities, and all the things that come with everyday life. Yet somehow they felt a little less overwhelming than they had a few hours earlier.

What struck me on the drive home was that I wasn't returning from a grand vacation. I was returning from a day trip. We had breakfast with friends, wandered through a city I love, stumbled across a few unexpected discoveries, and crossed one more white whale off my Broadway list. Yet somehow it felt like so much more than the sum of those activities.

We often think travel has to be big to be meaningful, but this weekend reminded me that sometimes the activity is the destination.

together we trek