I want to wake up in my favourite city in the world.
Taking the elevator down to the lobby, I want to walk past the friendly staff and watch the Marriot’s beautiful painting behind the concierge’s desk.
I want to step out on 4th street and walk to the corner of Mission, where you can get the best bagels at the “organic coffee company“. Raisin bagel with peanutbutter in hand I would walk down Mission, surrounded by early morning mist.
Upon arrival at the Ferry Building I want to walk down Pier 14, munching on the cream cheese muffing I bought at the farmer’s market. I would nibble away at the end of the pier and watch old Asian men fish.
I want to walk down the Embarcadero along the waterside, stepping out of the way of early morning joggers. While entering the Fisherman’s Wharf area I would unsuspicously clutch my handbag a little bit tighter than usual and navigate through the tourists.
I want to watch the ships at the end of Hyde Street and the street performers at the Cable Car Turnaround.
Ghiradelli Square would be sure to be my next stop, of course I would have to say Hi to Norbert, who is always down at the steps, talking to tourists in their native language.
I want to visit the chocolate store to get my free sample of deliciousness before I make my way up the steep hills of Van Ness.
Turning left I would walk down Lombard St. , trying not to get dizzy.
I want to take the Cable Car towards Union Square and sit on the steps with a fresh smoothie in hand.
I want to visit the shops along Market St. and go to Anthropology.
For lunch I would make sure to visit Cyril Magnin St.’s “Tian Sing” for the best lemon chicken in town the world.
I want to take the Marriot’s elevator up to the 39th floor and gaze down upon the city.
Afterwards, I want to spend the ridiculous 1,50 fare for a one way ticket to Golden Gate Park. I would stroll through it, no matter how long it is, to reach the beach at its end, where I would watch the kites.
1,50 would take me back towards Twin Peaks where I would again look down at the city and imagine it’s all mine.
I want to see the Haight again, walk through the Italian neighborhood, drive across the Golden Gate and marvel at its beauty.
I want to visit the MOMA again on the first tuesday of the month and have lunch at the Yerba Buena Gardens.
I want to do these things and thousands more…
Please, will you take me to the Golden City again?
The changing light
at San Francisco
is none of your East Coast light
none of your
pearly light of Paris
The light of San Francisco
is a sea light
an island light
And the light of fog
blanketing the hills
drifting in at night
through the Golden Gate
to lie on the city at dawn
And then the halcyon late mornings
after the fog burns off
and the sun paints white houses
with the sea light of Greece
with sharp clean shadows
making the town look like
it had just been painted
But the wind comes up at four o'clock
sweeping the hills
And then the veil of light of early evening
And then another scrim
when the new night fog
And in that vale of light
the city drifts
anchorless upon the ocean