I’m a sucker for the counter culture. A whole city to explore and I’m back at Vesuvio taking in the Beat Chic. They serve a nice Guiness. That’s my excuse.
Every time I take a walk around SF I’m struck by what a quiet city it is. Not silent by any means, but there are long moments of stillness even in the most built up areas. And the place has a smell. An odd spice tang, mixed with the pacific ocean salt air. Somehow the famous City Lights book store seems to condense that smell down to it’s essence, as though a wiley public relations consultant bottled and squirted it around the entrance to confirm the place as a city tourist attraction. Paranoia? Obviously. But in this day and age who knows.
I’m taking a break from taking a break from thinking to write this, so back to it.
