US trip, part 3
The weather was brilliant in San Francisco today. Not a cloud, and wonderful direct light from the absurdly deep-blue sky. I caught a cab, with a Vietnamese driver this time, to the Caltrain station. There I purchased a ticket to Redwood City, where I had arranged to meet my best friend from High School, Shawn Lewis. Shawn and I made a short film together called “Time Travellin’ Teddy” in which we played Libyan terrorists. We filmed the kidnapping of Roosevelt, who had accidentally been teleported to 1986, at the airport, fake guns and all. Try pulling that off today.
It was good to be on a train again, even if the shiny double-decker cars exuded a certain unsettling oder, and the windows were fairly dirty. We bumped and jostled our way out of town, heading south down the peninsula towards San Jose, passing small houses, some with junkyards and others immaculately kept, and fields of complicated, rusty machinery.
Shawn met me at the station, looking roughly the same as the last time I’d seen him, which was in 1987. No mean feat, that. I doubt he would have recognized me without the aid of pictures. He drove me out to his place of employment, aka Dreamworks, and gave me a tour of the place.
It was fascinating. The offices are all warmy lit and well appointed, with posters they made “just for fun” as well as stands from various films. Shawn explained the animation process, and I found that the animators also refer to shots by focal length and aperture.
We had lunch at the company canteen, which was well-appointed, and the other employees sitting around the table chatted about various projects. I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement, though, and can’t elaborate on much of what I heard, but it was an interesting look into the culture at Dreamworks, which has made some of my favorite films.
Shawn had a meeting at 1, though, so he drove me back to the station, and I got on the next train with the wrong ticket. The machine had asked whether I wanted a zone 2 ticket, and I misinterpreted it as asking if I wanted a 2-zone ticket, so I was short. Nobody had inspected my ticket on the way out, but this time the conductors, very official and very fat men in sunglasses, swept into the cabin to check out tickets. Luckily we were still in the same zone at the time, or the fine would have been hundreds of dollars. I decided to get off at the next stop to add the required amount to my ticket, but the train left before I could do this, and the next one was an hour away.
So I walked around the town of San Mateo, which seemed an uneventful place. Lots of Chinese and Japanese restaurants, and one gigantic Chinese laundry facility. There’s been a slight aura of anxiety to all the places I’ve visited so far, but I have to attribute it to my unease at being in a new place, as the only area it doesn’t appear to weigh on me so heavily is Chinatown.
Back in San Francisco, I walked from the Caltrain station towards the bay, aimless switching street. I took a few photos, but I don’t really have a feel for this city, when to take what shots, how people will react, etc. Therefore many of my shots are more abstract, landscape and architecture shots. I walked to the bay bridge and down past the piers to where a huge cruiseliner, the Coral Sea Princess or something, was docked, tourists streaming through the gates. I stopped to rest my feet, taking off my shoes and watching the planes and boats on the water. I wondered where the liner had come from and what it would be like to arrive in SF after a long sea voyage.
The sun was beginning to lower in the sky as I walked inland through affluent communities, skirting Nob Hill. “Nice shadows, mate,” a man told me as I shot some reflected light on a wall. The sun was glaring off the many windows by the time I reached my hotel, whereupon Ernie messaged me and said to meet him at The Hub, which is located at 5th and Mission. Ernie belongs to The Hub, and I imagine it to be some kind of consortion, a loosely affiliated group of super bloggers.
We walked through the dusk to a MUNI station and waited for a small, two-car train to stop at a seemingly random part of the platform, causing would-be passengers to have to guess the spot and run for it if they guessed wrong.
Dinner was at Chow’s in the Castro. When Ernie said the name I thought he was talking about a Chinese place, but then I remembered that Chow is also an English term related to eating. I had some pasta, which was good, and we shared a dessert of ginger cake and pumpkin ice cream, which was just wrong it was so good, and talked about things under the heaters protecting us from the evening chill as if they had a grudge against it.
After dinner we walked back to Ernie’s where we got in his car and drove out to the Golden Gate Bridge, parking on the outlook on the other side and taking pictures. In addition to us were gaggles of photographers with tripods, laughing Latino families, worried businessmen on their mobile phones, and a few kissing couples ignoring the sparkling cityscape across the bay.
Ernie had wanted to show me some other stuff, but he took a wrong turn and we ended up going through the Presidio and down Geary in the Sunset before he dropped me off at the North Beach Hotel, where I am typing this. Tomorrow I have to somehow manage the feat of getting up, checking out, getting to the airport, flying to Chicago, changing planes, and then flying to Lexington, Kentuckly. Oi.
好棒的體驗喔!ç‰ä½ 回來好好跟我分享喔!
Comment by Chenbl — September 27, 2011 @ 5:30 pm
Hola, TC. I felt as if I was there with you, thanks to your descriptive text and I now have a huge urge to see San Fran up close again. The city is by far one of my favorites. Enjoy your American adventure!
Comment by Giselle — September 27, 2011 @ 7:14 pm
“After dinner we walked back to Ernie’s where we got in his car and drove out to the Golden Gate Bridge, parking on the outlook on the other side and taking pictures. In addition to us were gaggles of photographers with tripods, laughing Latino families, worried businessmen on their mobile phones, and a few kissing couples ignoring the sparkling cityscape across the bay.”
That’s the best! You’ve captured a good part of the soul of SF right there. I used to live very close to the GG Bridge right by GG Park, and I would bike over the Bridge, into the foothills of Marin County at least weekly, often pausing to see such sights.
Comment by Nick — October 1, 2011 @ 1:11 pm