San Fransisco is a city of astounding beauty. It was my penultimate stop on my travels up the west coast of California. I stayed in an rickety mansion hotel that teetered at the very top of a steep road, decorated with musty 1920s memorabilia and those metal lifts with shutters that you would have to heave back to climb into before it clattered you upwards to your room. One of my most treasured memories of the trip is, when having to get up early for various events of the day I would tiptoe back up from breakfast with my cereal and eat it sitting on the windowsill of my hotel room. Cross legged behind huge thick jaquard curtains, looking out over rooftops to the Bay Area I would watch the morning fog majestically roll in from the sea, engulfing everything in it's path until you could no longer see the seam where the water met the boardwalk or the boats rocking on the jetty. It is one of the most absurdly beautiful images I am yet to equal in my lifetime, and this takes me back...
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