FRAN SANFISCO, CA.

The first thing to say about San Francisco, and California in general, is that I can see why characters in Great American Novels are always travelling thousands of miles to get here. The weather is incredible, it’s so green everywhere, and the food is delicious. It also feels like a good place to start our journey, as the culture shock is cushioned by how walkable the neighbourhoods are. There were also genuinely fewer McDonalds and KFCs than any European city I’ve been to. 

I’ve divided this one up into sections, for your reading convenience:

Overall Impressions

Architecture

Food

OVERALL IMPRESSIONS

In a city full of nice bookshops, the standout by miles is City Lights. Started by Lawrence Ferlinghetti in the 50s, it is also home to a press of the same name - if you own that little square edition of Howl by Allen Ginsberg, that’s them. The shop itself is the kind of place that is so relaxing it feels as if someone’s reached into the back of your head and is massaging your brain. I actually had the same feeling of total fuzziness the first time we stood in a red-wood forest later that day. A slightly guilty association… Maybe it’s just being surrounded by trees in any form that do this to me? 

Opposite City Lights is Vesuvio’s, the bar where most of the beat poets spent their time (not) writing. It has the warmth and comfortingly busy-ness of a good pub, but with the lazy ceiling fans and good kitsch of a proper American bar. Also unmistakably Californian bartenders, one of whom was so laid back in voice and face as he gave us recommendations that I was worried he might be having a stroke. Delightfully, a man called Eddie with long hair and a leather flat cap approached us, and gave us some free books on the Beat poets; he was moving out and wanted his huge collection to go a good home. We left refreshed, charmed and none the wiser about good places to get a drink that evening.

The Castro

Walking around San Francisco is also a journey through smell. Firstly through the scent of the fresh flowers that bloom outside so many of the houses, in huge plant boxes on the pavements and in strips outside people’s front doors, bring the city to life. Green is everywhere in most of the neighbourhoods we walk around in, and the wider side-walks allow for trees and plants that don’t uproot the pavements as they do in London. All of this freshens the city as you walk around it.

San Francisco's parallel city.

There is another smell that cannot be avoided, just as undeniably San Franciscan. The smell of baked-in piss and sweat of someone who has spent a long time living on the streets. I recognise that smell from volunteering with St Mungos, but here there were people who had their own ozone layer. I don’t say that as a judgement, smell is just the most direct way you are confronted with the homelessness of the city. It’s an aspect you are told to expect, but in some ways it’s no worse - visibly at least - than London, especially in the last 5 years. There is something that seems different though, and it was only after a few days that it occurred to me that there was not actually much begging. Certainly less than walking around London these days. The homeless population is bigger, and visible, but largely seems to operate in its own parallel ecosystem; people are doing what they need to do to survive or forget, but as someone wandering around the city, that happens around you rather than at you. Unmistakable, tragic, yet somehow detached. The most direct interaction was with a man who scooted up to us on an election bike laden with bags. He had the middle distance stare of a Sioux Warrior on horseback in a 60s Western, and spoke about the gutting of the middle class in the city and how he was struggling to make ends meet with gardening jobs. He scooted off when he found out we had neither cash nor Venmo. 

For all the pleasantness of San Francisco, and how idyllic California seems in general, for all the nice bars and lovely strolls, there are also these constant reminders of its shadow, the widening gap that leaves so many behind.

Architecture

Walking around Frisco (I’ve decided that’s better than San Fran, or SF), it’s hard not to stop every few minutes to take photos of the houses; there are so many beautiful ones around the city. There are some famous ones, “the Painted Ladies”, next to Alamo Park, but to me they don’t seem that different so many others I’ve stopped and admired as we’ve walked around the city. They are often similar: bright facades, bay windows (is that where this comes from??), shallow triangular roofs, but within that there is so much variation, of colour and texture and pattern, that there’s always something new to make you pause. I wonder if the hilliness of the city helps to break the uniformity as well, and adds character through the sometimes vertiginous staircases leading to people’s front doors. The people of San Fran are kept fit, even just in their journey from car to front door.

Even in the centre, so many of the large building are still made of brick. I have a thing about the importance of variation in architecture (maybe from living in a new-build in London), and walking through the financial district you can see clearly how the brick, and even concrete in some cases (see photos), allow for details in design, for little flourishes, both hidden and obvious, that put brick or stone buildings in a tradition going back to Gothic churches, where every facade tells a story. The glass and steel of a skyscraper are sleek, but so limited: once you’ve decided on the overall shape - walkie-talkie, cheese grater, burrito - there are so few other details you can add.

Food 

I don’t want to put tooo many pictures of food, but the taquerias in The Mission were delicious; proper old school feeling canteens where you were judged both for not speaking Spanish and speaking it. We went to Taqueria Cancun and El Farolito, both highly recommended. The most American food moment happened in Capo’s Restaurant in North Beach, when our lovely waitress congratulated us for being “so healthy”, because we only ordered the one pizza between us, with a side of broccoli. However, it was this pizza:

Yes, that crust is made of cheese.

It would easily have fed 4 people; I've read novels less thick than this. It was also delicious, the marinara sauce cutting through the mozzarella and ricotta (and cheddar), and the spinach giving it a deceptively light feel. We did finish the whole thing, although we then had to cancel all our plans for the evening, and go home immediately to digest, like pythons in jungle made of cheese. 

Food in San Francisco is insanely expensive, especially breakfast for some reason - we kept spending over $30 on coffee and pastries, but that does allow me to introduce a feature that I hope will become a regular: BUN CHECK.

The first gets bonus points for having both raisin and cinnamon (WHY don’t more places do this??!), but the second one edges it for me on originality; the cinnamon and orange filling gave it a marmalade-y, breakfast feel. And afternoon snack feel, when I went back for a second one.

So there you have it: San Francisco! I'll put some more photos below, so you can enjoy Leyla's photography skills... Leg 2 of the trip, Austin, to follow soon!