San Francisco
My parents visited San Francisco on their honeymoon and I remember a small framed image of the city’s Golden Gate Bridge adorning our living room wall. That image was my first experience of a bridge that, until 2025, everyone in my immediate family had visited except me. I have wanted to visit California for as long as I can remember because it has always felt just that bit further away than the likes of New York City on the east coast.
It felt surreal to touchdown at SFO and see the ‘Welcome to San Francisco’ signs; it was hard for me to believe I was actually there, in a city that offered so much but which I’d only experienced second-hand or in cultural mediums. The air was fresher than in New York City the week before, thanks to the city being surrounded by water on three sides. And the light felt so different. I’ve often looked at photographs of Californian architecture and marvelled at the quality of sunlight available. It really does feel different. Softer, creamier, more gentle. We spent five days exploring the city: Haight-Ashbury, an evening watching the Giants baseball team, Golden Gate Park, Embarcadero, Alcatraz Island and, of course, the bridge.
Golden Gate Bridge is magnificent. The fact that it was shrouded in sea fog for the first 45 minutes of our walk across only added to the experience. The bridge is synonymous with frequently changing weather patterns, but I was very pleased that the Sun was able to break through for a short while as we viewed the bridge from the lofty position of Battery Spencer on the Marin Headlands. The views here are incredible and give you a firm grasp of the scale of the bridge’s towers. The first two images below are taken from that visit to Battery Spencer.
