6th Street "Ghetto"

Once again, I wanted to tell you all about my amazing past couple of days in San Fran, however I have another funny story to tell.

I was going to get some dinner tonight and thought I should do some research first. I'm constantly walking into places that look decent from the outside, but turn out to be horrible on the inside; good from the outside = horrible on the inside! (Note to self.) This was definitely the case tonight, but in reverse.

One of the reviews which had looked promising, led me to a place near my hotel. Only one street away in fact. The review warned readers that it was a "tad dingy", but was recommended by so many people, so I thought, why not.

I started walking towards the restaurant, and realised it was on 6th street; the ghetto street. The guy at the front desk of my hotel had told me to keep away from this street, and to keep walking if I was going past it.

For one reason or another, I thought I'd give it a shot anyway. So I took the left turn on the corner of 6th street, and in the process, bumped in to a fairly large group of homeless men. They instantaneously started calling things at me, "damn you're beautiful", "nice legs", "hellllllllll ohhhhhh, (whistling)", she is a woman right there, gorgeous". The name calling had already become second nature to me walking down the streets of LA & San Fran, as it had been happening all week long. But this time, it was scary.

I quickly back stepped and got the hell out of there quick smart!

In my attempt to pretend I knew where I was walking, and not look so 'tourist like', I walked to the next block hoping to find another restaurant to run in to and hide. Then I had an idea. The restaurant was number eight, which I figured out would be at the other end of 6th street, and close to the corner. So the plan was to go around the block and sneak into 6th street from the other direction, hopefully arriving in one piece.

I could see the restaurant out the corner of my eye as I walked by, 'Tu Lan', a Vietnamese restaurant. It was far worse than I had imagined it would be. I contemplated not turning on to 6th street, but something about those reviews made me determined.

Two bums were sitting alongside the footpath out the front. The metal looking venetian blinds in the front window were bent, rusting, and on a slant, and from the front, it looked as if I had arrived in the slums of Vietnam. I saw a young couple entering the restaurant, so took the opportunity to run in behind them.

The menu was in my hand within seconds, and a minute after that, the waiter (well I'm not sure if I would go as far to call him that, but the man who worked there) pulled up a chair beside me to take my order.

My wine was plonked on the table in front of me immediately. I'm still trying to figure out how he had time to pour a glass of wine in the time he left the table & returned with the glass. It was the size of at least two standard drinks, and was surprisingly nice for the $2.50 (+ tax) I paid for it. Then, before I had a chance to pick up my glass of wine, my meal was placed over my head and smacked down in front of me.

Unbelievable! My estimate would say it took about 3 minutes from the time I ordered, until my wine & meal had appeared before me. I was definitely getting worried about the quality of this food.


I ordered a rice noodle salad with the most incredible Imperial Rolls in the world. I have never tasted anything quite this amazing! Vermicelli noodles with some sort of ground meat and deep fried in the tastiest but naughtiest way. I had read they were good, and they certainly lived up to the hype. The only negative thing I have to say about the meal, is that I couldn't get through it. I only got half way through the bowl. The servings were huge.

In the hope that my food would settle in a little while, I retreated back to sipping on my wine. Little did I realise that all I was doing was filling myself up on wine, and feeling quite tipsy at the end of my double standard glass.

Throughout my meal, the phone was off the hook. Take-away orders no doubt. The door was constantly swinging open, with many locals choosing 'Tu Lan' as an obvious favourite cheap, quick meal.

The decor was an absolute treat. It actually reminded me of my last trip to Vietnam. So ten points for capturing the pure essence of eating like a local Vietnamese. There were chow mein noodles stacked from the cook top bench to the ceiling; opened and un-cooked. There were hand held face fans masking taped to walls and shelves around the room. I went to cross my legs at one point, and as I removed one foot from the ground, it took more than a normal nudge to unstick it from the floor. Sydney health inspectors would have a field day here. It was however the busiest restaurant I had seen all day, and no ones complaining in San Fran.

Can't wait for dinner tomorrow night, 'Tu Lan' here I come...