You get San Francisco.
It truly feels like Portland. Not just in look, but in culture. I'm at a conference at the University of California for the week. Not being a particularly strong socialite or bar monger, I've been roaming the city and soaking in the sights instead.
Oh, and the coolest thing? My hotel is only five miles from the Golden Gate Bridge. Built in 1937, and at a length of 4,200 feet, it's the second longest suspension bridge in the U.S. and arguably the most beautiful. It's also one of the most-photographed bridges in the world.
But how many people get to walk it... at night? I'm planning to do that very thing tomorrow at 5am. It may be more like a run, since I need to get back by 7:30am, but with the fog and the lights from the bridge, it's likely to be a ghostly experience.
All that said, San Francisco feels like a lonely place. Despite the enviable climate, sweeping bay, and ocean-front view, the rank and file of the poor, destitute, and homeless is deeper than back home. The city is dirtier and--outside the tourist spots--more run down than I expected.
I hope I never get so distracted by the highlights of the world around me that I neglect to see the lowlights. Such is the daily challenge of an optimist.
Did I just call myself an optimist?
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AHHH!!! WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME!!!
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Until next time,
- Daniel
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