My first visit to San Francisco was ten years ago, a family trip in summer that my dad drove the whole family up from Los Angeles — in mid-August — and we arrived late at night in the Bay Area, freezing. I recall we made a pit stop at the Vista Point of the Golden Gate Bridge, and my sister and I were jumping up and down, fighting over the only scarf we had in the car. The next morning, through the endless fog, we headed into a cold, blue city that sparkled in the sun.
That day was filled with tourist spots, including Lombard Street, Fisherman’s Wharf, and the seals at Pier 39. I wrote in my diary at the end of the trip: “Just experienced a city that reminds me of the freezing cold of winter in Paris, and it might just be the right place for the future me.”
Fast forward to now, in a few months, it will mark my seventh-year anniversary of living in the San Francisco Bay Area. You might think I’m living out my dreams. Well, not quite yet. After all these years, I’ve moved from the East to the South Bay, then to the Peninsula, still not quite San Franciscan. I’m still scheming my way in. In my mind, I’ve always deemed myself a visitor of this corner of the world, and only when I’m officially a San Franciscan will I be “legally” allowed to share the places I love about this city.
Somehow, now, with the seventh year approaching, I wanted to stop waiting for the time to be right. From the history of Chinatown to the intricate mechanics of the cable cars, San Francisco is a city that lured me back to visit week after week, always filled me with joy and surprises. I want to share it all with you. One place at a time.
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