Postcard #6: The California Segment - LA and San Francisco

(This is part 1 of a 2-part series)

After three months in Hawaii, we decided it was time for a change of scenery. And with a goal to work our way back to Maine for Christmas, we knew exactly which way to point our compass. Looking for the cheapest flights to the mainland, we chose LA for our first stop.

Talk about culture shock.

Coming from a small paradise that runs on island time and coconuts, to the hustle culture capital of the world was like bringing a caveman to Times Square. We stayed at a hostel on Venice Beach (a great area to people watch!) Everyone was so young and go-getter. It seemed like everyone was trying to be the person you want to know. Maybe it's just because I know a lot of people go to LA to make a name for themselves, or maybe it was the guys plugging their mixtapes on the strip. It's progressive and forward thinking, a city for people who love cities. Growing up in Maine, places like LA always felt like they were where the world happened. Being smack dab in the thick of it was daunting.

We only stayed in LA for a couple days. We visited a friend we'd met on the farm (a great way to achieve a sense of closure from our magical time in Hawaii), walked around Venice, tried to figure out the bus system. It was a time to reflect on what we missed about Hawaii. I cant say I hated it in LA, there were some things that interested me about it. The amount of public art for one thing, and there was great food in any direction we went. But at the same time, one of our hostel roommates had night terrors every night at 2am. So it balanced out.

We skedaddled up to San Francisco after that. We took an Amtrak up the California coast for 11hrs. The views of the beach and the valleys were beautiful. They cemented to me that it was not Hawaii anymore. This land is larger than an island. You can’t drive more than 2 hours on the island without hitting the coast. Here, the mountains have space to stretch their legs. We got through a beautiful section of prairie hills at just about sunset. The land is a good indicator of space traveled.

We finally made it up to Oakland, and then got an Uber to Jasper’s friend’s apartment in San Francisco and played with her dog.

Let me tell you, San Francisco is one of the only major cities that I would ever seriously consider calling home, if I had to. I had absolutely no expectations of it before we got there. It was all the better for it.

Jasper and I discussed at length ways of describing and comparing San Francisco to other cities during our short trip there. What we settled on is this: San Francisco is like a mix of the best parts of Portland (ME), Boston, and New York City. It has the grandeur and cultural significance of New York City, the rich American history of Boston, and the deep progressive values of Portland (probably both Portlands, though I’ve never been to Oregon).

The histories of the LGBT+ and hippie movements are incredible influences on the contemporary culture of the city. It's refreshing to me to see how much progress can be accomplished if you persevere. Being part of the LGBT+ community, it brought tears to my eyes to see things like memorials to Harvey Milk, the first openly gay elected official in California. He was assassinated because of bigotry, and now his story is immortalized by art. We would stroll down random alleys and find murals of nature and people, real and imagined characters, mixed with messages of peace and love. There's something so beautiful about a city in which the people pour so much of their hearts into it.

Trying to be wallet friendly, we stayed at his friend’s apartment for two nights. They live right next to Haight-Ashbury, the neighborhood birthplace of the hippie movement. We spent a good amount of time strolling down Haight Street, surrounded by psychedelic dreamy art, Tibetan and Buddhist shops, dispensaries, and Grateful Dead enthusiasts. Walk down far enough and we found the entrance to Golden Gate Park. I wish we had had more time to spend there. We only saw a sliver of it as we walked through, and it was as beautiful as the Garden of Eden. Ample space to explore and get lost in nature, water fountains drowned out the noise of the city. Birds and squirrels frolicked in the meadows, and people held picnics, played frisbee, fetched with their dogs, or just played music. We stumbled upon a large group of people who had spontaneously started a jam sesh, and one older woman was dancing and twirling around like no one was watching. Further on, we found a woman giving singing lessons underneath a walking bridge, which had such amazing acoustics that the sound carried out across the park like a choir of angels. There were roller skaters and chalk artists and free-form musicians and all forms of nature enthusiasts. I couldn’t believe it was real. We thought we had seen it all until we later saw a full map of the park: we’d only been through maybe 1/8th. Incredible! Next time, we will make a whole day trip of it.

After that, we of course had to make a stop at the Golden Gate Bridge. It’s always wild to actually be somewhere that you’ve only ever seen pictures of. It felt like I was staring at a 3D postcard. We took some pictures (which I’ve uploaded to Instagram, and that you can access through the homepage), but mostly we walked along the bridge and stared out at Alcatraz, and the rest of the bay. The smog was prevalent, but that day was particularly clear, so we could see the sunshine reflecting on the water. There was even a surfer in the bay just next to the bridge. Funny to think about surfers in such cold water, when we’ve seen dozens of surfers flocking to the warm Hawaiian waves. Even though we tried not to compare everything to Hawaii, sometimes we couldn’t help it (remember Hawaii and Her Magic? Yeah, we felt it).

Due to the size of his friend’s apartment, they thought it best to have us tent on top of the roof, or at least the little section of it only they had access to. Since we’d stayed in a tent for a month in Hawaii, why not! So they helped us set up their little name brand, three-person tent up on a walled off section of the roof, so it wouldn’t be too windy. The sleeping bags were surprisingly warm, and the pads weren’t too bad either. After having a lovely homemade dinner with them, we climbed up, got all cozy inside our sleeping bags, and just reflected on how crazy our lives had become. Before we were stuck in the rut of corporate America and the college grind. Now we were sleeping on top of a roof in San Francisco. What a life.