I must admit I began this trip with a slight sense of an American adventure in me. The furthest I had been in the USA was New York, and there is something quite romantic about visiting California – a bit of a western frontier as far as us Europeans are concerned. It’s been idealized and utopian-ized in a very western ideology - and from my early teenage years the culture has embedded itself into the popular consciousness. Suddenly, I felt quite cool saying I was visiting California
After a 10 hour 25 minute flight on one of British Airways’ Boeing 747’s (getting quite old now – these planes have each clocked up millions and millions of miles) I was flummoxed by the San Francisco BART ticket machine. Once I had negotiated the payment and ticketing system – the actual transportation was a pleasant surprise. Travelling through some interesting SF suburbs, the colourful pastel walls of houses and warm glow of the sunset made me feel I was about to travel into the set of the OC. It was a reasonably attractive and welcoming start to being in what I had always considered to be quite a big city.
After a 10 hour 25 minute flight on one of British Airways’ Boeing 747’s (getting quite old now – these planes have each clocked up millions and millions of miles) I was flummoxed by the San Francisco BART ticket machine. Once I had negotiated the payment and ticketing system – the actual transportation was a pleasant surprise. Travelling through some interesting SF suburbs, the colourful pastel walls of houses and warm glow of the sunset made me feel I was about to travel into the set of the OC. It was a reasonably attractive and welcoming start to being in what I had always considered to be quite a big city.
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