In May I was honored with an invitation to attend the wedding of kind friends in California at a place called Saratoga Springs.

Located in the mountains north of Napa Valley, Saratoga Springs has been operating as a resort since 1871. The springs are all but gone now, but with campsites, cabins, dining hall, banquet facilities, pool, and a totally get-the-party-started size jacuzzi on 260 private acres, it's got plenty to offer.

After a weekend of merriment - the wedding was attended by an energetic group of Burning Man types - I headed to San Francisco to recover. The newlyweds put me up in their Victorian digs in the Mission, which was totally stylin'.

It was perfect spring weather in the city by the bay, so the next three days were spent checking it out on foot. Can't say as I left my heart in San Francisco, but if anybody finds my liver, I'd be most grateful for its return.