Russian Hill is a neighborhood of San Francisco, California, in the United States. It is named after one of San Francisco's 44 hills, and one of its original "Seven Hills".
Russian Hill is directly to the north (and slightly downhill) from Nob Hill, to the south (uphill) from Fisherman's Wharf, and to the west of the North Beach neighborhood. The Hill is bordered on its west side by parts of the neighborhoods of Cow Hollow and the Marina District.
At the northern foot of the hill is Ghirardelli Square, which sits on the waterfront of the San Francisco Bay, Aquatic Park, and Fisherman's Wharf, an extremely popular tourist area. A trip down the winding turns of Lombard Street and across Columbus Avenue to the east leads to the neighborhood of North Beach. Down the hill to the west, past Van Ness Avenue, are Cow Hollow and the Marina districts.
The neighborhood's name goes back to the Gold Rush era, when settlers discovered a small Russian cemetery at the top of the hill. Russia naval and merchant ships frequently visited San Francisco throughout the 19th century beginning in 1806, and there are several mentions of burials of crew members in the Russian Hill cemetery in the first half of the century. The cemetery was eventually removed, but the name remains to this day. Although Holy Trinity Cathedral, the oldest Russian Orthodox church in San Francisco, is located a few blocks away on Van Ness and Green Street, there is no significant Russian presence in the area, as the city's Russian community is located primarily in the Richmond District.
I dreamt about a tranquil Sunday drive
A sensory lullaby
We trade the comics, cartoons and magazines
For pistons and gasoline
We see the road from the bedside
Parked under the sunshine
We feel the warmth of the engine, so we climb inside
And take it to the motorway
Watch the clouds turn into faces, it's fun to play
Shift the gears for years and age a single day
Until we spill onto Russian Hill
Past cathedrals filled with God's favorite guests
Dirty hands feel clean when dressed in their Sunday best
Treeline village, oh, so heavenly
Cross a bridge of gold to landscapes of juniper
Only Eden is for millionaires
Watch the clouds turn into faces, it's fun to play
Shift the gears for years and age a single day
Until we spill onto Russian Hill
I'm pulling through the last stoplight
We head home past the shoreline
And through the rear view mirror it all melts away
'Til we're helpless
Watch the clouds turn into faces, it's fun to play
(We're hopeless)
We shift the gears for years and age a single day
(It fades away)
For like curtains close this sunset matinee