Places bluceleste87 Wants to Go

A pair of mutilated bronze octopuses slump at the base of the monument honoring California's admission to the U.S.

A masterpiece in Golden Gate Park by virtue of the artist’s debt.

A mysterious painting of the self-declared Emperor of the United States watches over a local hof-brau.

Recovered from the brink of extinction, at home in the Financial District.

A famous alternative culture epicenter and where Joplin serenaded young hippies.

The giant pair of sexy legs sticking out the window of this costume store have become its main draw.

The miraculous hydrant that saved the Mission District in 1906.

San Franciscans leave gifts and messages for the magical beings that live behind the tiny, mysterious door installed on a tree in Golden Gate Park.

This concrete tangle of square pipes has stood as a proud thorn in the city's side since the '70s.

This private residence was the template for one of the most beloved television homes of all time.

San Francisco's urban bison herd has persisted in the face of extinction, development, and disease.

A historic hotel that made a cameo in Hitchcock's classic film has no intention of letting guests forget its fame.

San Francisco's oldest surviving monument and meeting place for 1906 survivors.

A hidden subterranean installation offers a view of the sky.

The oldest burial ground in the city, final resting place of city founders, Ohlone natives and murderers alike.

A 300-ship graveyard, with a few still visible at low tide.

Visible below the waves are memorials to the city's Gold Rush dead.

A modern mechanical planetary system, part of a 10,000 year clock.

An essential stop before plundering, BYO Cutlass.

The one-time watch house for incoming ships at the Golden Gate now stands abandoned and hidden in trees.

A tiny theater hidden in an alley plays a constant stream of short silent films for anyone willing to peer through the peephole.

Staircase winds down the side of Telegraph Hill through gardens, wild parrots flying overhead.

A pair of slides and a tree-lined stair corridor have been an urban oasis for nearly 40 years.

A favorite haunt of dinosaur loving children and hallucinogen loving hippies alike.