Buildings that soar into Neverland, city streets in rainbow colours confirming all variations of gender identifications live peacefully side by side. Plaques of remembrance to honour poets who resisted any form of fundamentalist fascist thinking. Drug tireds spread out on city park lawns. Elderly couples keeping the body supple. Trams and buses carrying humans of all shapes and sizes. Names like “painted ladies” for a neighbourhood of restored Victorian architecture. The old seemlessly integrated with the modern. And a street zig zagging up one of the many hills onto which the magical city of San Francisco was constructed. This is just the thinnest surface that I can peel off in about hundred words restricting myself to the outdoor street scenes of the city. No mention of the music, the art, the imaginative design in architecture, the zen spirit of the Japanese Garden.