San Francisco
I was nearly 42 the first time I saw San Francisco. My first glimpse was through a break in the heavy cloud cover as we descended into Oakland airport and there stunningly was the Golden Gate Bridge directly below the plane as it banked left.
We flew Alaska airlines. Rod and Dale have a friend who is a pilot for this airline. He was not on our flight. I was relieved. I quite like the notion of professional distance when it comes to things like dentistry and flying an airplane. I'm not sure that it's a good thing to be on first name terms with your pilot let alone to have slept with them.
We'd travelled light, so we picked up our hand luggage and travelled by BART (Bay Area Rapid Transport) to the Mission area and walked to our apartment in the heart of the Castro.
Rod and Dale wanted some time to relax so I went out for some provisions and just strolled round for a while. It was a soothingly balmy evening and two blocks from our front door I was standing at the corner of Castro and Market and I knew I had arrived. The rainbow flags were flying. The men were gorgeous. And there was just a sense of community in the air. I must have looked like yet another new arrival as I walked down that famous pavement because my face was just split open by the cheesiest of grins.
That evening we ate at the Patio Cafe and were served a wonderful meal by the angelic Gabriel who was just delightful. As we were eating, Dale leant across and whispered "What I love about a place like this is that you can look round the room and know that most of the men here have sucked dick at some time."
When we got back to the apartment, there was a message on the answer machine from Chris who is working over here for a few months and we arranged to meet up Tuesday night. Rod and Dale hit the sack but I was too up to go to bed yet so I headed off almost on autopilot now to the Castro. I cruised a couple of bars. Nothing happened but I was just glad to be there and by the time I got home I was too tired to be doing anything anyway. I watched some video and went to bed and had one of the most uncomfortable nights of the holiday on the sofa bed. Something must be done.
Tuesday for me was a little more wandering around shops in the Castro, a little video watching and then up onto Buena Vista, the hill at the back of where we were staying, to write postcards and gawp at the view. Not surprisingly the hill was hotching with men looking at men looking at men. I could have ended up in a bush a couple of times but just didn't want to.
Back to the apartment and a nice long bath before we ate at the Cafe Flore on the corner of Market and Noe. Chris joined us at about 8pm and we spent the rest of the evening alone just talking and talking - me catching up on more detail about his and Peter's split; him catching up on more detail of my recent history.
Eventually, home and video and bed. Two days down and I haven't even scratched the surface of this town.