The crew is restless once again.
North we went in search of gold, and gold we did find. Not in the ground, but fashioned in two red towers that glisten like gold in the late afternoon sun. Where Lady Liberty looks only out, wishing to keep those who pass her in, our Golden Gates swing two ways. They swing open to the bay, calming the soul of the weary traveler, and swing out, sending the steadfast explorer on his way. Yet, the gold of the North does not stop in the bay, just inland the scarred hills and tattered streams are tattooed with the numbers one, eight, four, nine. Here is where the largest migration on American soil occurred. Here is where pirates of new, stole not from wooden ships, but robbed and pillaged the rocks and soil. They dug and blasted until California's gold laden breastplate was nothing more.
Yet, like the dynamite in the hills, a new San Francisco exploded onto the scene. A liquid environment meshing freedom seekers, free thinkers, travelers, and business folk. San Francisco is something of fiction and lore to those outside, and some kind of twisted dream or fantastic nightmare to those inside. Visiting will leave you with a taste for more, and living there will never satisfy you. Some love it, others find our lucky number seven to be rather unbearable, with over 700,000 humans packaged into a neat seven mile by seven mile radius. A square tip of glory seated at California's greatest natural harbor.
A few hours south of the Golden State's Golden City you can find the dust of Steinbeck's muse sticking to the back of your neck. North of South of the shining gates lie territories still largely untouched by man, the craggy Lost Coast, and the dense forests of Big Sur are yours for the taking if you have the spirit and the time. Those who stray away usually stray back though, as the city calls in a way rarely explainable.
The cold, grey waters surrounding California's golden handcuff keep most locked on shore. Ocean Beach, pretty and windswept to those seeking a photo op, it likes to watch those who take to her waters suffer for glory. Like a bitch in heat, she'll look at you with sweet eyes one moment, beckoning for you to draw near, and then rip your hand off the moment you get too close. But take some blood with your sand, and glory to you she will bestow. A golden breastplate all the new, and all the more shiny. Worn in secret, but seen by those who wear it as well.
Someone once said, you're never more than ten feet from a good meal in San Francisco. They were right, and I dare you to prove me wrong. Little gems lie everywhere, from the sandwiches of Ike's, to the daring flavors of Bi-rite ice cream. From the dusty floors, and hole in the wall burrito joints in the Mission, to the loud and brightly colored section of California street, know to all as China Town. Venture off of Market and find any type of food you could ever want. With one dollar or one thousand, there is a meal for the taking in San Fran.
Last but not least, the people. If you are not a people person, San Francisco may not suit your fancy. It is a city built on the backs of people, and has survived only because of the diverse population it calls its own. Stay in your room and it will forever be a cold and grey place. Yet venture out, and check your judgements at the door, for on the foggiest night, during the coldest spell, San Francisco can be a bright and warm place.
So to my Golden City, I missed you, and in one day you captivated me again. Together again soon we shall be.
Heading Far South,
The Pirate Crew
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