Sea Cliff

If egalitarian San Francisco has one elitist holdout, it is Sea Cliff. This enclave for the wealthy and renown, though by no means terribly rich or even hugely famous, is a solid, substantial parcel barely half-a-mile square. Though it has some impressive mansions, splendid piles perched on cliffs overlooking the Golden Gate, it also has a reputation for privacy and discretion. Most San Franciscans have heard of Sea Cliff, and although they are free to walk its streets and sidewalks, few have the means to live here, so it has become a kind of well-kept secret. And although some of its streets and homes look like Beverly Hills North, with manicured yards and incongruous palm trees swaying in the fog, there is little to suggest that residents here would call the cops simply because you look suspiciously like you don’t actually belong here.

The houses are an eclectic mixed bag, most of them vaguely Spanish colonial revival (orange terra cotta roofs and pastel stucco walls are pretty much the rule here), with a French chateau or Georgian manor thrown in here and there, and a 1960s modern plunked down less felicitously amid the curving blocks. As if to say “look at me,” a few of the more ostentatious homes along El Camino Del Mar and Sea Cliff Avenue have no trees or other greenery blocking them from the street (though this might be for the sake of unobstructed ocean views, too). One or two estates on a couple of blocks sit behind walls that keep curious eyes from prying too much, but there’s a remarkable openness about the neighborhood as well, especially if you’re on foot and simply stroll the various streets, marveling at the diverse architectural styles and materials as well as the sheer engineering feats some of the homes on the steep cliffs above the sea required to be built in the first place.

Part of the peace and quiet is owing to the city law prohibiting tour buses and vans on most streets in the area. Though few people actually come here looking to gawk, a number do come seeking to find out what Sharon Stone’s former mansion looks like, what kind of fancy digs Robin Williams lived in, and how San Francisco native Kirk Hammett of Metallica might have spent his off-tour hours. Few neighbors offer much information beyond a shrug or a smile, so it keeps the curious guessing.

Sea Cliff has a history surprising for this area adjacent to the Richmond District, developed so much later in the 20th century. The first real residents of the neighborhood (after the native peoples, of course) might have been Chinese fishermen, who established a camp at China Beach in the late 19th century. (Today, the site of their activity is a public beach maintained by the National Park Service, with access from the neighborhood’s north side, off Sea Cliff Avenue near El Camino Del Mar—the only way to legally access the protected strand, which sits between two cliff outcroppings and is thus sheltered to a degree from high winds). Mark Daniels, the famed landscape architect who created the 17-mile drive around Pebble Beach, began laying out the neighborhood and designing the landscaping of some of its finer homes in the 1910s, shortly after the earthquake and fire of 1906, when people were looking to get away from the rubble and charred remains of places like Nob Hill. Over the decades, the blocks filled in with houses grand or, grand’s evil stepchild, ostentatious. The result is an agglomeration of exquisite and tacky, much like the rest of the city.

Not all of Sea Cliff properly defined (California Street on the south, 32nd Avenue on the west, Sea Cliff Avenue and El Camino Del Mar on the north, and 24th Avenue on the east) is grandiose. The southeastern quadrant of the neighborhood has a number of modest single-family homes, condo buildings, and apartment houses and looks quite similar to the adjoining Richmond District. But wherever the stone corner markers herald the Sea Cliff name, the houses evoke wealth and class (if not taste).

Sea Cliff has two links to public transit: the 29 bus, which maneuvers along 25th Avenue on the neighborhood’s eastern edge, before ducking into the Presidio, and the 1 bus, which heads back and forth on California Street (the 1AX is an option for downtown commuters). For the most part, the residents of Sea Cliff drive (or are driven) to their destinations. For those wishing to park on the street (not necessary if you live in one of the area’s homes, many of them with three- and four-car garages), there are few limitations, outside of the standard weekly street-sweeping restrictions and the San Francisco prohibition on parking in any one area for more than 72 hours. The city’s Department of Parking and Traffic doesn’t issue any residential parking permits for Sea Cliff.

Crimes committed here are few and far between. Because of its well-guarded houses and garages, burglaries are uncommon as are robberies, according to San Francisco Police Department data. Vandalism and other nuisance crimes, such as disturbing the peace, are not unheard of, however, and the neighborhood follows the city trend of an increasing incidence of car break-ins and vehicle thefts. Assaults are the exception rather than the rule, and there have been no homicides for a number of years.

The Kittredge School (co-ed, K-8) and Katherine Delmar Burke School (girls, K-8; just “Burke’s” for those who attend) are the decidedly exclusive private schools that cater to the area’s pampered youth. No public schools lie within the neighborhood, though an elementary, middle, and high school each lie to the south of California Street, Sea Cliff’s southern border.

Rochambeau Playground on 24th Avenue is the sole “park” (it’s really just that—a playground with swings and gym equipment for kids, a tennis court and some basketball hoops for older denizens). China Beach qualifies as the only other public-access open space in the neighborhood. (With all those private yards, who needs public parks, after all?)

There’s nary a commercial strip in the neighborhood, unless you count the gas station at 25th Avenue and California Street, with Bikram Yoga Seacliff across the way. To get any necessities at all, you’ll have to venture a block south of California, to Clement Street, with its assortment of Asian restaurants, grocery stores, and shops. But then, you’re really in the Richmond District at that point.

The area’s 5,000 or so residents are overwhelmingly white (75 percent), the remaining being predominantly Asian, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. Almost 80 percent of all residents own their homes. Pretty much everyone is well off, with median household income ranging from $150,000 upward. As for property holding its value—well, it’s all relative (depending on what you initially paid for that five-bedroom, four-bath, two-story “cottage”), with a big dose of that real-estate truism “location, location, location.” In Sea Cliff, “location” generally means El Camino Del Mar, Sea Cliff Avenue, or Lake Street and the avenues in between. A red-brick mini-mansion (looking straight out of Boston’s Beacon Hill) with four bedrooms, four bathrooms, an entry hall with dramatic staircase, and other upper-crust essentials went on the market recently for $3.9 million. Finding an apartment in the northern half of the neighborhood is well-nigh impossible (unless, of course, you’re talking servant’s quarters); and to rent one of these homes, you’ll need to pack your Vuitton valise with cash. For instance, a seven-bedroom mansion on El Camino Del Mar was recently advertised for $15,000 a month—not including staff, of course. That such a home at such a price even exists shows that the privileged of Sea Cliff are few, and that a few can pay for the privilege.