13 Best Sights in San Francisco, California

This stunning, rosy rococo palace on a lagoon seems to be from another world—it's the sole survivor of the many tinted-plaster structures (a temporary neoclassical city of sorts) built for the 1915 Panama-Pacific International Exposition, the world's fair that celebrated San Francisco's recovery from the 1906 earthquake and fire. The expo buildings originally extended about a mile along the shore. Bernard Maybeck designed this faux-Roman classic beauty, which was reconstructed in concrete and reopened in 1967.

The pseudo-Latin language adorning the Palace's exterior urns continues to stump scholars. The massive columns (each topped with four "weeping maidens"), great rotunda, and swan-filled lagoon have been used in countless fashion layouts, films, and wedding photo shoots. Other than its use for major events and exhibitions inside the building, it's really an outdoor architecture attraction that's perfect for an hour of strolling and relaxing. After admiring the lagoon, look across the street to the house at 3460 Baker Street. If the statues out front look familiar, they should—they're original casts of the "garland ladies" you can see in the Palace's colonnade.

Those who want to take a picture of the @Twitter sign at Twitter's headquarters—or, yes, tweet from Twitter—can see the sign prominently displayed outside the gorgeous art-deco building that houses the company's main offices at Market and 10th Streets (though there are far fewer employees working in office now thanks to a certain new company owner). You can tweet inside while shopping in the building's ground-floor market or picking up lunch from the vendors around the market's small café/bar area. To truly appreciate this micro-neighborhood, enjoy a local beer across Market Street at The Beer Hall or catch some music with craft cocktails at Mr. Tipple's—both are prime happy-hour spots for the Mid-Market crowd.

At the official entrance to Chinatown, stone lions flank the base of the pagoda-topped gate; the lions, dragons, and fish up top symbolize wealth, prosperity, and other good things. The four Chinese characters immediately beneath the pagoda represent the philosophy of Sun Yat-sen, the leader who unified China in the early 20th century. Sun Yat-sen, who lived in exile in San Francisco for a few years, promoted the notion of friendship and peace among all nations based on equality, justice, and goodwill. The vertical characters under the left pagoda read "peace" and "trust," the ones under the right pagoda "respect" and "love." The whole shebang telegraphs the internationally understood message of "photo op." Immediately beyond the gate, dive into souvenir shopping on Grant Avenue, Chinatown's tourist strip.

Once the White House of Chinatown, this striking building has balconies and lion-supported columns. Begun as an umbrella group for the many family and regional tongs (mutual-aid and fraternal organizations) that sprang up to help gold-rush immigrants, the Chinese Six Companies functioned as a government within Chinatown, settling disputes among members and fighting against anti-Chinese laws. The business leaders who ran the six companies (which still exist) dominated the neighborhood's political and economic life for decades. The building is closed to the public.

Named for cable-car inventor Andrew S. Hallidie, this 1918 structure is best viewed from across the street. Willis Polk's revolutionary glass-curtain wall—believed to be the world's first such facade—hangs a foot beyond the reinforced concrete of the frame. The reflecting glass, decorative exterior fire escapes that appear to be metal balconies, and Venetian Gothic cornice are notably lovely.

The carefully landscaped complex appears so collegiate that it's affectionately known as LSU—short for Levi Strauss University. Lawns complement the redbrick buildings, and gurgling fountains drown out the sounds of traffic, providing a perfect environment for brown-bag and picnic lunches. The Vault, the lobby exhibition space, has displays focusing on the history of the company, including jeans that saw the gold rush, videos about Levi's marketing and textile restoration, and temporary displays such as the jeans made for celebs like Lady Gaga and Elton John. You can purchase Levi's and Dockers straight from the source at the cozy lobby boutique. The wonderful Filbert Steps to Coit Tower are across the street.

The street, which bisects the city at an angle, has consistently challenged San Francisco's architects. One of the most intriguing responses sits diagonally across Market Street from the Palace Hotel: the tower of the Hobart Building (No. 582) combines a flat facade and oval sides and is considered one of Willis Polk's best works. East on Market Street is Charles Havens's triangular Flatiron Building (Nos. 540–548), another classic solution. At Bush Street, the Mechanics Monument, in recognition of the Donahue brothers who industrialized the city, holds its own against the skyscrapers that tower over the intersection. This homage to waterfront mechanics, which survived the 1906 earthquake (a famous photograph shows Market Street in ruins around the sculpture), was designed by Douglas Tilden, a noted California sculptor. The plaque in the sidewalk next to the monument marks the spot as the location of the San Francisco Bay shoreline in 1848. Telltale nautical details, such as anchors, ropes, and shells, adorn the gracefully detailed Matson Building (No. 215), built in the 1920s for the shipping line Matson Navigation.

Erected by Freemasons in 1957, the hall is familiar to locals mostly as a concert and lecture venue, where such notables as Van Morrison and Trevor Noah have appeared. But you don't need a ticket to check out the outdoor war memorial or artist Emile Norman's impressive lobby mosaic. Mainly in rich greens and yellows, it depicts the Masons' role in California history.

After the 1906 earthquake, many Chinatown buildings were rebuilt in Western style with pagoda roof and fancy balconies slapped on. This building—today East West Bank—is the exception, an example of top-to-bottom Chinese architecture. The intricate three-tier pagoda was built in 1909. To the Chinese, it's considered rude to refer to a person as a number, so the operators were required to memorize each subscriber's name. As the San Francisco Chamber of Commerce boasted in 1914: "These girls respond all day with hardly a mistake to calls that are given (in English or one of five Chinese dialects) by the name of the subscriber instead of by his number—a mental feat that would be practically impossible for most high-schooled American misses."

The former home of silver baron James Clair Flood cost a whopping $1.5 million in 1886, when even a stylish Victorian like the Haas-Lilienthal House cost less than $20,000. All that cash did buy some structural stability—the Flood residence (to be precise, its shell) was the only Nob Hill mansion to survive the 1906 earthquake and fire. The Pacific-Union Club, a bastion of the wealthy and powerful, purchased the house in 1907 and commissioned Willis Polk to redesign it; the architect added the semicircular wings and third floor. The ornate fence design dates from the mansion's construction. It is now a members-only private social club.

By even the most generous accounts, the Summer of Love quickly crashed and burned, and the Haight veered sharply away from the higher goals that inspired that fabled summer. In 1977, Sami Sunchild acquired the Red Vic, built as a hotel in 1904, with the aim of preserving the best of 1960s ideals. She decorated her rooms with 1960s themes—one chamber is called the Flower Child Room—and opened an intentional community with rooms to let. The ground floor holds the new vintage shop Sunchild's Parlour, and simple, cheap vegan and vegetarian fare is available in the Peace Café.

A striking triangular shape and a gorgeous green patina make this 1907 flatiron building unmissable, and the Financial District's skyscrapers make a great backdrop for it. In the 1970s filmmaker Francis Ford Coppola bought the building to use for his production company. The ground floor houses Coppola's swanky wine bar, Café Zoetrope.

It's neither owned by Transamerica nor is it a pyramid, but this 48-floor, 853-foot-tall obelisk is the most photographed of the city's high-rises. Excoriated in the design stages as "the world's largest architectural folly," the icon was quickly hailed as a masterpiece when it opened in 1972. Today it's probably the city's most recognized structure after the Golden Gate Bridge, and it's the second-tallest in the city after the Salesforce Tower. You can't go up the pyramid, but the best views and photo-ops are of the building itself anyway. Note that the building is undergoing a substantial construction renovation, so there will be fencing around its perimeter likely for all of 2023 and possibly into 2024. A fragrant redwood grove along the east side of the building, with benches and a cheerful fountain of leaping frogs, is a placid downtown oasis in which to unwind.