#2 First impressions
The drive from the airport into the city takes only 20 minutes or so, and the cab costs about $45 plus tips. This was enough time to have a nice chat with a very welcoming driver who reassured me I had picked one of the nicer hotels, but to get to it we’d have to drive through the roughest part of town.
My hotel was located atop Nob Hill. I knew San Francisco’s terrain was unusual, but only when I got there did I realise Nob Hill was actually a hill, but completely devoid of any of the features that would otherwise identify it as a hill, having no greenery in sight. The street maps I had studied do nothing to convey the gradients of this place. I knew there were steep roads, but I thought they might be dotted around here and there. In reality, more roads than not in the northern part of the city are set at ridiculous angles. This is a city built where a city has no business being.
Heading north on Leavenworth (Google)
At the foot of Nob Hill, lies The Tenderloin, or the TL to locals. There are many apocryphal explanations of the name which I had forgotten from the guide books I read on the plane, but I did heed their warnings, and those of the taxi driver (for the time being at least). As we drove though, he warned me that in no uncertain terms did I have any business being in this part of town, especially at night. These reviews and warnings made it seem more appealing and interesting, so I would return here later!
I was fortunate enough to visit Mumbai some years ago, and was shocked at the sight of so many people living on the streets there, although to some extent, I think we almost expect it in a developing nation. This was the ‘greatest country in the world’ (according to their leader), one of their richest cities, and I was only a few minutes walk away from the HQ’s of some of the world’s biggest tech companies, but here in the few minutes it took to pass by, was homelessness, drug dealing and casual drug abuse on a scale I had not seen before.
I was mindful of how lucky I was to be heading up to the top of ‘the Hill’ to my nice hotel, but I was determined to come back down here to explore the area. Whilst I planned to tick the usual tourist-trap boxes, I was determined to go off-grid and experience the parts of town normally ignored by tourists.
The roads seemed to get steeper and steeper, before levelling off as we had reached my destination. Only a few minutes away from the dereliction of the TL, I was outside the so called ‘grand dames’ of San Francisco, The Fairmont and The Mark Hopkins, perched literally at the very top of the hill, with the best and worst of the city sprawling away from me in all directions.
Part of the reason for my travels was to escape the Christmas period and all its associated guff. My research had informed me that the lobby of the Fairmont was something of a Christmas spectacle, with tourists flocking in to gawp at a massive Christmas tree, champagne fountains and and a full size gingerbread house, made entirely of gingerbread and cake-based construction materials. I had to fight the festive crowds to check in, but was rewarded with a decent view, looking north towards the SF Bay, with a hint of Golden Gate Bridge.
After I had unpacked and made myself feel at home, I fought the jet lag and and went across the street to grab some food, and survey my new home from the heights of the bar on the top floor of the neighbouring hotel.
Gallery
