Loose in late night Frisco

OPINION: We'd lunched on the revolving Sky Needle above Seattle, crossed the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, brunched on a Portland river cruiser, writes Gerry Forde in this week's Southlander.

Still ... as I slumped on the hotel bed in Fisherman's Warf, something was missing.

Maybe it was peace, given the nosiest nightclub was dead opposite. Duff, duff, duff! And mindless laughter. Don't they know that people have to sleep, especially ... old people? Oh no!

"Darling, we finish our stay in the US tomorrow with a night on the town!''

Early next evening I ran from Fisherman's Warf to scout out nightlife in downtown San Francisco. Within 10  minutes I was lost and no one seemed to speak English. It was the Italian quarter. I ran for another 10  minutes and everyone was speaking Chinese.

Eventually, I stood panting in Union Square. My feet were hot from running. They were smoking. I was standing on a steaming sewer lid!

I took a backstreet home and ran straight into a movie scene. A row of dark figures stood pressed into the buildings on both sides of the street. They were silent and eyeing me suspiciously. I was the only white guy on the block. You could cut the tension with a knife.

Then I spotted a cop car ahead. I ran for the car, then straight past it and three miles up the road  topping Knob Hill faster than a cross country ski champ.

I arrived home with a plan. We dined at an Italian cafe   outside.

"More romantic,'' I said.

First passerby spat on the sidewalk, the next one tried to bum a buck. But the wine and food was magnifico.

Next, a jazz bar and we stayed till closing. Then an Irish pub with loud singing  last to leave again.

Back at the hotel, I had trouble getting the key in the door, it wasn't our door  wasn't our floor. Resting on the hotel bed I drew on my Process Psychology skills and tested how good our night had been by whether the music from the nightclub next door still bothered me.

As I attuned to my inner-self, the world stood still. Was I having a mind-altering experience, had I drunk too much port?

Silence.

We'd outlasted the rowdiest nightclub on Fisherman's Warf: we return to Godzone rejuvenated!

» Gerry Forde is the Venture Southland regional identity brand manager.

- © Fairfax NZ News

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