San Francisco’s cable car. I understand it’s still working. Back then in 1965, to the little boy that I was, fresh out of Africa, it was very cool. Note the hairdos on the women, and the white socks and black jeans on one of the passengers pushing the car. (Elvis wasn’t very far)
The streets of San Francisco. Alcatraz, still in operation back then, is in the background, centre.
The Golden Gate bridge. Don’t know why, I always – wrongly – associate the bridge to the song, a few years later, by Country Joe MacDonald and the fish at Woodstock: “Next stop (is VietNam)”. “And it’s five, six, seven, open up the (pearly) gates”. The rest of the lyrics is restricted to mature audiences only. (Fab’ song, though)
The All-American diner. En route to San Diego. An endless car trip from Frisco to SD, along the seemingly eternal highway, punctuated by stops at a diner like this one. French toast: $.59; T-Bone steack for $1.69. (How much’s a T-bone steak worth now? Do tell, dear E-friends) That is where I heard Edith Piaf’s “Allez venez, Milord” for the first time. Probably a courtesy by the owner hearing us speak French. Foreground, right: my mother. Soo Sixties.
A rare, “bilingual” version. 5mn or something. Well worth the time.
Christmas ’65 saw us fly to Frisco from Amsterdam, where we lived in between two African posts. We went to visit a friend who taught at Berkeley. Visited a bit of SF, and then she took us to the most boring road trip (highway trip, the beat generation was still just a few years ahead) to San Diego. Endless hours in the car. Diners and motels. Till we reached San Diego, saw the harbour and turned back! My parents were a bit p.o’ed, and managed to squeeze a stop at Disneyland and Yosemite for us kids. 🙂
Text and photo (c) BMO and Equinoxio.
All photos were taken on an Instamatic. My second camera, graduating from a brownie box. 🙂
Happy New Year, Bonne Année, And Feliz Año Nuevo to all.