A San Francisco Affair

The heart at Union Square

The seeds of my love affair with San Francisco were sown the very day we were acquainted. What started out as a mere check mark on the to-do list of a travel aficionado, culminated into a full blown obsession which grew exponentially with each passing day. This is the story of my bitter sweet romance with a city which has a little bit of old, a little bit of new, a touch of grey, a splash of colour, a mean streak, a kind vein and many such contrasting characteristics that I fell in love with.

It all began on a beautiful summer day in June of 2012 when I made my maiden trip to San Francisco. Like a seasoned suitor, the city began wooing me instantly and flaunted its most attractive feature – the architectural splendor- to sweep me off my feet. To this effect, its first offering was the tall and handsome Golden Gate Bridge, standing strong with feet planted firmly in the Pacific bed. From atop a hill, the shiny red structure looked grander with sparkling white cotton-ball clouds bobbing in the powder blue sky above and colorful sailboats floating in the crystal water below. As I felt my heart stir and my knees go weak, I realized that I stood very little chance of not succumbing to my wooer’s charms.

Each aspect of the city’s architecture hit me like an arrow from Cupid’s bow. For instance, the rollercoaster like roads and alleys which were unknowing purveyors of breathtaking views knocked the breath out of me. Just when I was at my wits end, having huffed and puffed up one such alley, it suddenly dropped downhill at a steep angle leaving me standing at a peak with a beautiful view of the sun melting into an infinite ocean. As soon as the sun set, darkness metamorphosed the soft blue ocean into a sinister grey monster which appeared to be guarding its glimmering bridges.

I was further smitten by the fact that the intolerance endemic to human beings which causes the young and the old to drift apart, did not affect the city. Old and new landscapes coexisted in perfect harmony. The ill-famed ‘Generation Gap syndrome’ did not ail them and as a result there was no awkwardness. Victorian structures comfortably shared space with modern skyscrapers. A 114 year old statue of Victory on a Corinthian column did not appear out of place in the middle of contemporary buildings housing trendy stores like Saks 5th Avenue and Macy’s in Union Square. Pale yellow cable cars of yore still plied on roads alongside fancy automobiles.

Appealing to the shopaholic in me were miles and miles of retail nirvana in the form of Lombard Street and Union Square. Unfortunately the day drew to an end as quickly as it tends to when one is lost in fantasy and I was left yearning for more. The city grew cold and unforgiving as we painfully parted. Even though it was the peak of summer, a frosty draft seeped in through the layers I was clad in and froze me to my bones. This was soon to become a norm as each time I bid farewell to my beloved, I had to suffer it’s bitter wrath in the form of gusts of cold wind which made my teeth chatter and my brain go numb.

Little did I know that the city was not going to give up easily and I was going to return soon. 4th of July celebrations at Ghirardelli square brought me to San Francisco yet again. This time the city baited me with my love for chocolates. It lay in front of me what can only be described as a chocolate lover’s ultimate fantasy. I stood agog as I took in a view of a different kind. Mountainous stacks of rich chocolate squares with unimaginable fillings like – pumpkin spiced caramel, vanilla bean, pecan pie, salted almonds, egg nog and peppermint bark towered in front of me. Pictures of humungous ice cream sundaes dripping with chocolate fudge and caramel sauce stared at me teasingly from the menu. And yet again I yielded to the city’s love. Savouring the velvety smoothness of chocolate and enraptured by the dazzle of the firecrackers which lit up the sky, I finally accepted that I had fallen head over heels in love with San Francisco.

Hippies engulfed in marijuana smoke at Fisheman’s Wharf, homosexuals publicly proclaiming gay-pride, bizarre performances by street performers, the seal family at Pier 39, large tufts of fluffy pink cotton candy on sticks…my courtship with San Francisco had it all. It was an honest relationship too as the city shared all its facets with me - good, bad and ugly. Today as I pack my bags to move several miles away from San Francisco, I have a feeling of loss deep down. The city, or rather, my city continues to tug at my heartstrings even though I have said my final goodbye and urges me to visit again and again and again. Well, who knows, perhaps I will….