By Mark J. Mitchell–
There’s been a lot of French to overhear in the Haight Ashbury for the last few weeks. Grandpere’s busy trying to prove to a teenaged grandson that the world was once much cooler than it is now and that he was once cool. The traditional influx of tourists from la belle France made their appearance in August.
For all the national media bad-mouthing San Francisco, the world still wants to come to visit us. A few are frightened because they’ve been told to be frightened. Most are just happy to be here—families, retired couples, the young, and the restless are coming to see San Francisco in all her ragged glory.
As a tour guide, I meet them all. It even surprises me how many people tell me that they find the city so clean, but I’m glad they feel that way. I’m happy for any praise for this city I love.
There is so much to show the world. To begin, there is the extraordinary physical beauty of the city: All the stunning views offered by our 53 hills: the sweep of the bay, the heroic skyline of downtown, the small army of Victorian houses that manage to be both stately and playful, and, of course, the bracelet of bridges that holds the whole area together.
My tour takes people on public transportation, and the visitors are all impressed. Of course, we ride cable cars (the California line is a bargain right now, with its $5 all-day pass). We hop on the streetcars running down Market Street, noting the empty storefronts as well as the newly opening ones. We ride the 22 Fillmore to the breathtaking sight of the bay and the bridge from the top of Pacific Heights, and walk past the Mrs. Doubtfire house before catching the 45 Union for a walk down the crooked street.
Visitors miss out if they don’t get out into the neighborhoods—to the Castro, always lively and colorful, the Haight, Nob Hill, Dolores Heights, and Dolores Park. Of course, North Beach and Chinatown are as bright and alive as ever.
Then there are the monuments that make up our Civic Center—the War Memorial Veterans Building and Opera House—not to mention the moving War Memorial itself and the gilded dome of City Hall glowing across Van Ness. Visitors are impressed by the building’s façade, but the inside takes their breath away. On a good day you might see ten or more wedding parties along with two or three young women showing off their quinceañera dresses on the grand stairway.
And San Francisco has stories to tell, from the Gold Rush 49ers to the Super Bowl-winning 49ers. It’s not all happy, but it is riveting. It helps that you can draw on sources like Mark Twain, Ambrose Bierce, Jack Kerouac, and Allen Ginsberg. Then there’s the fine cast of characters that runs from the Emperor Norton to Frank Chu.
Is everything perfect? No, of course not. San Francisco is a real city, a living entity. Things have never been perfect. I always tell tourists that ever since I arrived in the city 45 years ago, every mayor has promised to clean up Market Street and to solve the homeless problem. None of them have, showing that it may not be easy to do, but we try.
Then there are San Franciscans themselves. We have always pulled together in dire straits, from earthquakes to fires to influxes of hippie wannabes in 1967, to recent days of deep orange skies. The best recent example is the viral car crash from a few weeks ago on the Sanchez steps. The car came barreling down those stairs, hit a tree, flipped over, and landed on its roof. All the people walking along 19th Street ran to see if they could help, while the car-jacking driver and passengers emerged unhurt and ran away. The important thing is that everyone came to help.
On any given leg of my daily journeys on public transport, San Franciscans spot tourists with me, and share their stories about what we’re passing. They’ll tell people what shouldn’t be missed, where they should eat, or about what is happening in the park that evening; the things I might have missed. San Franciscans love sharing about their city. We tend to be proud of her most of the time.
Even after all these years, even after all the changes, good and bad, San Francisco is a beautiful place and one of the great places to live in this country. I’ll always agree with Herb Caen who said, “One day I’ll die and maybe I’ll go to heaven. I’ll look around and say, It’s not bad, but it ain’t San Francisco.”
If you want to take a tour like the one Mark J. Mitchell described, go to https://www.realsanfranciscotours.com/
Published on September 7, 2023
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