Cannery Row. I have read this book in school, Cannery Row by John Steinbeck (I think I should read it again). The general content I could remember is a story, the live and place of some weird independent characters in California. At that time in best teenager years it made some impression of course. The specific thing I will never forget is the leitmotif: beer-milk-shake. I think some of our class tried years to get a beer-milk-shake until someone got to the point when it was served at bar. On the way up I passed Monterey, not because of Cannery Row but because of the Jazz Festival. Once a year mid September the city turns into a centre of jazz with its famous festival, very much similar like Montreux. I assume the Jazz Festival is about 30 years old. Monterey is one of these places, like Montreux, with a glorious past and a future still there. Which means they used the immense popularity of jazz in the 70-ies to create this festival and attract visitors. And so it still is these days. Part of this past is John Steinbeck’s book, based on the unique history of the place I guess (that’s why I have to read it one more time). I was not aware of it. Going through the city I ended up at Cannery Row, you can hardly avoid it. And suddenly I realized: well, here we are, 20something years later…..

Back to Jazz: I also remember “Play misty for me”, Clint Eastwood’s debut as a director. He also plays the main character, a radio dj who got in troubles with a stalker as one of his fans. The story is located in this area, so there must be something in the air, despite the commercial background of the festival (in regards of the dj, of course, not the stalker…).

I don’t like the cable cars. One thing that reminded me dramatically of San Francisco as a conservative city. Conservative not in the sense of its liberal people, but in the sense of protecting and cultivating the existing city. The fare for a ride on the cable car is $5. Who would use a public transportation for $5 a ride? Yes right, tourists. And the $5 fare is desperately needed to maintain the system which is still the original one from probably 100 years ago. At least they should have tried to modernize the system which is basically very interesting for this extremely sloped topography of the city. But instead, they probably just continuously replaced it with the bus system etc. until one day an outcry started: Preserve our cable cars! And here we are: Two or three lines are kept in service. Just for the sake of keeping them, inefficient and expensive…..

You go to San Francisco to buy a book about Los Angeles. City Lights bookstore and publisher, one of these institutions in the city strongly part of its political and social development and history. I had a look and bought a book…about Los Angeles. San Francisco has all this charm and cultural live of a cultivated European city, so much everything Los Angeles doesn’t have. I felt like I am going back to live, I was looking for signs that I am still in the US. So what’s the point, why do people live in LA? I started reading this book I found, ‘Another City, writing from Los Angeles’. Different Writers based in LA. And already on the first pages, it is: “We do not stay here in spite of our mixed feelings. We stay here because of them. Ambivalence defines us.” (Judith Lewis, interesting times) It’s the whole point. The entire essay is like a cliché, but so true…..

Tartine Bakery. Susan told me to go. It’s in the middle of Mission District, one of the places you would never find if you don’t know about it. The first time I just passed, the waiting line was endless. Before I left to go back to Los Angeles I forced myself to wait. And I had bread pudding, brotauflauf, a leftover-receipt my mother used with old bread!

DeYoung. Later.

HotDog. Hand pump. I just passed by accident a hot dog place. They offered several different sausages to chose from, grilled it and served it as a hot dog. I had a weisswurst, the real one with veal. When served they asked to stay, to go or next door. I was wondering about next door. Next door means you go with you hot dog next door and get an ale. Very nice. It turns out the next door is a pup with a list of at least 20 different sorts of beer on tap. I had an english ale on hand pump to my weisswurst hot dog. Nice neighbors!

Morphosis. Daido. Later.

Trieste. A café in a district with Italian background, like Little Italy in New York. And like Little Italy it became very touristy. Caffe Trieste is an ideal place where you could spend all day relaxed and far away from all you worries and stress. I guess it was established in the 50-ies and it is still there. Reminds me of the bar Italia in London. And in this particular place you find these people who would never enter an establishment like that in their hometown. Here they just enjoy it because it says in their guide they shouldn’t miss it. But they don’t fit at all.

Art Institute. Campari. Nervi. Later.

Wrong Parking. I got a ticket for wrong parking. It’s hillside and you’re supposed to turn the car’s front wheels against the curb, so they are blocked. The wheels of my car were straight as it says on the ticket. Everything else was correct. $35 fine.