SF Panorama

This blog was written last fortnight while I was lounging in a public square on the Embarcadero, San Francisco's Waterfront District. Again, this is an unedited version reproduced below.

As I look around me, I wonder how can 'all this' be put into words. I am in an idyllic scene, transported straight out of Medici's Florence, but not quite. A huge paved plaza at the heart of a great city. San Francisco, the city by the Bay. And the Bay is there, right across the street to live upto its name. A giant 2 storeyed fountain, which is like the Trevi morphed into a Rube Goldberg fantasia, cascades down, its harsh murmurings make their way across the length of the plaza. The ferry terminal and the ferry building is across the street, the Stars and Stripes fluttering atop it. In the middle of the road, is the tram line F. And the Unicyclists, the trumpet players and the street artists are having a fiesta time on the sunny bay side evening. The office goers are rushing back from work towards the subway, valises clutched tightly in their hands, while the fashionistas strut more slowly with their Gucci purses. The sea food restaurants throw off aromas which waft to where I am, leaning over the railing, looking at the tiny waves trying to budge the pier. The Alcatraz looms ominously out of the distant mist as the seagulls' cries reach a crescendo and then subside into a momentary lapse, before resuming the cacophony. A lone trumpeter serenades some love-lorn tune while a few tourists linger on to hear him out. Inside the Hyatt Regency, the buffet is about to start, and I have to get up and attend, but I am loath to leave.