This was meant to go up yesterday? Today? I don’t know when. Yesterday, I think. But it seems the glare of the sun around poolside in San Diego meant I missed clicking the ‘publish’ button. There will be another entry, for today, shortly.
The second destination on my whistle-stop rock lord megatour of North America led our party to San Francisco. Or, as the locals call it: “El Hillo Liberalo”. But what did I think of the place I have cunningly entitled “The City I Can’t Come Up With A Stupid Nickname For, Apart From The One I Just Used Before”? Read on, oh readist.
I am from a small town in the north of England. It is surrounded by fields, woodlands and other such countryish stuff. It is small, and most people know the business of each other. Where I live now isn’t much better, to be honest. San Francisco is one of those American places that has really big buildings and stuff*, so it was a little bit overwhelming for my tiny mind. Still, with the help of those more experienced in its ways I managed to go on one of the trams without falling off and/or dying. I did get told off by the driver though.
San Francisco is hilly. These hills were actually invented by Mormon invaders in the 1880s, after they were insulted by the original inhabitants of the city: people called Francisco McSansan. These hills were put there solely to annoy people, but over the last three years have taken on a whole new identity with both locals and visitors to the large town, turning into more of a character-building element and something people call “an interesting thing about the city”.
Anyway, I was impressed with what San Francisco had to offer. It was suitably American, pleasant, had good food (especially pizza) and some of the most creative tramps I’ve ever seen. While it was disappointing to find the seals had buggered off somewhere else, those remaining were comical enough to raise a smile. Also (we didn’t go there, but still) Alcatraz is terrifying.
*Full disclosure: I’d never been to the US before this trip.