Like most people who have the travel bug bad I do relatively
pointless things like repeatedly making lists in my head, in discussion and,
when particularly bored, on paper, of the 5 most [insert country/adventure/city…] I want to experience. For the last
few years San Francisco has inexorably clung to the must do city list.
I note such tasks are “relatively” pointless rather than
simply pointless as they do occasionally spur me on to go to such places and do
such things. This then has the added bonus of opening up room on the aforementioned
lists, triggering a whole lot more thought and discussion.
This is a drawn out way of saying I was excited to land in
San Fran earlier this year.
NORTH BEACH AND AROUND
Intercontinental travel over, I woke up with vicarious baby jet
lag (7 month olds and 8 hour time difference are a sub-optimal mix) and stumbled
out of our beat generation period ex-brothel hotel into a gloriously sunny
morning in the hip suburb of North Beach. All laid back cosmopolitan cafes, retro
book shops and the odd bit of red light district. Nestled in between Downtown and the northerly
bay facing docks and beaches, it is a perfect place from which to explore the
city.
A big pile of heart-attack inducing pancakes and multiple
all you can drink coffees later, we wander off to see what the city has to
offer. The answer is one heck of a lot. Like the best big cities, as you
meander around you find yourself in one distinct and interesting neighbourhood after
another. From the most extensive and “Chinese” China town I have seen outside
of China (streets and streets where you would never know you were in the
Americas – a product of gold rush immigration), via the affluence and beautiful
views of Pacific Heights to the guide book stated “no-go” we stumbled into
south of Market and 5th.
It is often the more gritty areas of a city that appeal to
me, but I have to admit that the latter of these neighbourhoods shocked me.
Walking through the not especially interesting Downtown (I am yet to go to a US
city outside of New York with a standout downtown - a bunch of samey work
buildings and shops only saved by the odd grand public building gem) we
suddenly, without barely realising it, find ourselves in a different a very
depressing world. Abject poverty. Boarded up shops, gangs on corners, shifty
looks. We had entered the bloody projects only a couple of blocks from Gucci.
OK, I’ve seen worse neighbourhoods in Bogota and Jo’berg, but these are in
developing countries, not the richest county on earth. From a European’s
perspective it is something very hard to understand.
Where is the basic social
safety net? If poorer European countries can afford it then so can the States.
That a society should actively choose not to look after its poorest citizens
gives cause for some serious introspection. Rant over. Back to how nice the rest
of San Fran is…
THE VIEWS THE VIEWS
What is the archetypical
image that pops into the head when you think of San Francisco? Verging on
vertical streets giving way to the deep blue bay? Antique cable-cars? The
Golden Gate Bridge? Alcatraz? We saw the lot of it and it was gorgeous.
Street after street of
ridiculous out of breath steepness. We wandered up and down (occasionally on
the odd aforementioned cable car for the uphill part), taking in view after
view. A particular highlight was the panoramic views of city and bay from
Telegraph Hill on the north-eastern tip of the San Fran peninsula.
Once passed the
unbelievable tack of the theme-park old fishing wharfs (all McDonalds and Bubba
Shrimp only relieved by the awesome sight of dozens of Californian sea-lions
barking the day away below Pier 39), the north coast is delightful. Brown
pelicans skirting the waves just off-shore from the beach, the maritime park
and an old crumbling pier which gives fantastic views of the city’s crowning
glory. The Golden Gate Bridge is just as impressive as it should be, guarding
the face of the bay from the wild Pacific.
ALCATRAZ AND ON
With Alcatraz so visible
from the high points, it lured us in for a closer look. Now part of a National
Park, the infamous prison has been turned into a top rate museum full of
fascinating tit bits from its dark days as a hard-core federal penitentiary. I
highly recommend it. It even comes with strange in bred tourists from Arkansas!
That vital extra bit of
colour to our experience was added by a couple of old mates currently residing
in the city. Their warm words only added to our impression that this is a very
likeable city indeed. Sure it has its rough unsightly underbelly, but what
American city does not. It attracts a relatively open minded, liberal and
friendly crowd who make you feel welcome. A place I could live if only I could
convince a local company to give me 30 plus days holidays a year (I think the
US average is 11 days).
Very satisfied and with
the start of a Californian glow, we jumped into our hugely over-sized Chevy
Malibu and headed out of town through those famous San Fran morning mists.
Route 101 to San Diego ahead!
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