Gone are the weekends of manic sightseeing. US feels no longer like a vast land to explore, but a finite space to own to make my own.
San Francisco is home…like Bombay. Yeesh! And home might be great when you are 70, but right now, its not an exciting place to be. Home, unlike a touristy LA comes with responsibilities.
Once you know you are going to be some place for a long time, you don’t exactly have a deadline to finish seeing all that is worth noticing. Now, I hear myself think, ‘Ah, adventure rides, I’ll wait for me to have kids’. I figure they’d wanna go anyways.
To add to this inertia, San Fran is a lot like Bombay. If you took Bombay and inverted it, it’ll look like SF. And by thar logic, I’ll be living in Colaba. Well, a girl can dream, no?
To make matters worse, it’s been raining. And not the .5 cm annual rain like LA, these are seasonal. The roads are awash, people have umbrellas and yet everybody is waiting for the bus!
Ok…not convinced? Beat this! People get in one stop before the train terminus so they are assured a seat on its way back. Virar local anyone?