The only dish I can whip up is instant noodles, and unless the delivery guy leaves a package at the security office, I barely step outside on weekends. I’m that common kind of person everyone knows. But, somehow, I ended up living solo in San Francisco for a year. So, I decided to casually jot down my tales of settling in and the struggles from a lifestyle perspective whenever I found the time. Yet, living somewhere isn’t quite the same as traveling—no matter the duration—it’s got its own weight. 🌍
Market Street might seem like a pretty road with the Bloomingdale’s and the cable car terminal from a traveler’s lens. But when you’re treading it for survival, it’s just a sad street filled with homeless people and the scent of cannabis. But hey, living is a continuous journey of discoveries. Sometimes, unexpected joys hit you and, on those lazy strolls, you stumble upon breathtaking sights. 🌟
That’s how I found myself at the Presidio Park Starbucks at the western edge of San Francisco every weekend, gazing at the Pacific and penning down memories not as a tourist, but as someone living there. ☕️
This is what I call ‘San Fran Dispatch’
I’m thinking of revisiting and refining those clumsy, scattered writings from my time there and sharing them neatly. I do wonder if I can wrap it up properly, but let’s worry about that later. For now, shall we slowly travel back to the San Francisco of 2015-2016? ✨
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