Spaces and memories

Today I’m heading home. This was my first time in San Francisco—and in the United States. I spent about two weeks here, so what I’m sharing is only a personal record of impressions from this first visit, something to keep as a memory.

I’ve seen both the beautiful and the unsettling sides of San Francisco. I tasted food ranging from Michelin-star restaurants to small local cafés. I walked through streets filled with flowers and morning fog—but also through the smell of urine and marijuana. I heard soft silence and classy jazz in the background—but also frightening shouts and people blasting loud, tuneless music from portable speakers. I rode in a Waymo self-driving car and also in a cable car that still requires two drivers.

For me, San Francisco has its own charm. The old-fashioned houses blend curiously with modernity. I saw cable cars and Teslas side by side, classical art and contemporary art in the same city. But it would be a shame if the sound of fog and the warmth of the sun were drowned out by loudspeakers, or if every corner were filled with the smell of cannabis. Freedom is a wonderful thing, but it should come with basic courtesy—because that’s what allows the “spaces” we share to become “memories” we share together.

I’m glad I had the chance to see San Francisco and the U.S. This trip gave me fresh perspectives—shapes, flavours, scents, and sounds. It gave me and Kate memories we’ll carry forward. I made new friends, reconnected with old ones from work on a more personal level, and together we created experiences I’m thankful for.