Binary Bouquets

When You’re Going to San Francisco: The City

During our week in San Francisco, we experienced the city’s diverse moods. From the somber grayness of cold, windy days to the vibrant sunshine casting warm hues across the streets, the city welcomed us.

We checked off iconic sights from our list: the famous Painted Ladies, the winding Lombard Street, and the Museum of Modern Art. Riding the historic cable car, I found myself marveling at the photos plastered on the car’s ceiling. The journey wasn’t just about getting from one place to another; it was a fascinating visual feast.

And then there was that whimsical sign at a cozy restaurant: “Soup of the day: WINE”. What a delightful soup it was—a perfect match for our wonderful day and overall trip.

Our explorations led us to Chinatown and Japanese town, where we savored sushi and tasted sea urchin for the first time—a delightful culinary adventure.

At Pier 39, a charming carousel caught my eye. It reminded me of Neil Gaiman’s “American Gods,” where the carousel serves as a portal for gods to slip backstage and serves as a place of power. Gaiman’s belief that magic exists everywhere and it can serve as a lens through which we can view the world, resonated with me.

San Francisco, as I see it, is a city full of vibrant colors, captivating stories, and a truly unique atmosphere.

When You’re Going to San Francisco: Echoes of Alcatraz

Our visit to Alcatraz was anything but ordinary. As we stepped onto the island, a mix of feelings washed over me. Having never seen a prison before, I was curious about the inner workings. However, the place itself exuded hopelessness, confining the memories of the darkest souls within its stone walls.

Outside, the day stood in stark contrast to the prison’s somber interior. Sunshine bathed the island and green trees softened the harsh edges, their leaves rustling in defiance of the grim history. Amidst the stone, seagulls tended to their chicks—a metaphor for life’s persistence, even in the bleakest corners.

Guided by an audio tour, we explored the dim corridors of Alcatraz. What struck me were the names given to the corridors—Time Square, Broadway, and other familiar streets. These labels felt like mocking reminders, exerting additional psychological pressure, as if the outside world seeped through the cracks.

As I reflect on our visit, I find Alcatraz left an indelible mark of the haunting echoes of the past. While I am grateful for the experience, I cannot say I enjoyed it. Perhaps some places are meant to be felt more than enjoyed.