San Francisco. Despite my foggy, half-awake brain, a few first impressions. Coffee. Coffee shops. Trams. Roads - many roads - usually winding up and up. People smoking cigarettes. People dining outside restaurants. And then the light - soft and bright. And the Patti Smith lyrics ringing in my head, "Holy New York, holy San Francisco / Holy Peoria and Seattle, holy Paris / Holy Tangiers, holy Moscow, holy Istanbul / Holy time in eternity, body, holy eternity in time..."