I just came back from a walk around Fisherman’s Wharf and something had been needling me the entire time. It took me a while to finally figure out what it was.

The signs: I only crossed paths with one set of military guys, despite it being Fleet Week, and a handful of German tourists (indefatigueable!). There was only 1 barista in the Fisherman’s Wharf Starbucks. No open mike artists at the Cannery, and the line at Hyde St. turnaround only winds once, with no artists there, singing the Eagles’ Best Hits. Only one person setup for selling baubles in front of Ghirardelli Square- and leather belts no less. Denuded of tourists it actually felt like any other neighborhood in SF. No long line of Segue tours, only one or two sets of rented bicyclists consulting their little maps feverishly. Someone at Starbucks was actually doing homework. No more of the usual long list of random mochas and decaffs and Fredo’s for a party of 12. No babble of random languages. All English, with maybe one or two soft British accents.

Bus drivers were hanging out near the North Point/Van Ness MUNI bathrooms just casually chatting. William-Sonoma employees were dawdling near their lobby waiting for the shuttle. I can’t tell you how weird it is to see all the locals, with no tourists around. It’s like someone took the trees out of the forest.

caption: the Red Bull tee-pees setup at the tip of Aquatic Park pier for Fleet Week.