There’s something about this place….something about how little cable cars climb big hills…something about how every house is it’s own piece of art…and something about how escaping to the parks or the other side of a hill puts you in a wonderland far from the city you have come to know.
I leave town every week and come back just for this place and the people it holds. I’m fortunate enough to meet new people on their way to visit the city, or on their way home from a weekend trip. Some of the ones who stand out are…
The couple who had never left Texas …when they boarded the plane, they had their rental car picked out and all the places in fisherman’s wharf to visit. When we landed, they had cocktail napkins full of my writing, listing places to see in Pac Heights, Haight Ashbury, the Presidio, and the Sunset…and promised me they would cancel their rental car.
Another woman, from Toronto, started crying in-front of me on her way home when she realized something was calling her back. She planned to go home, pack her bags, and head west. Though it was her first trip, she felt a calling to come back.
Like me and many of my friends, we don’t know what finally pushes us to move here, all we know is that once we got a taste of the city, our minds remained 100% preoccupied with being here. It’s a city that requires a leap a faith, detachment from high heels, scarves in the summer, and an open mind. But once you arrive, you won’t go back.