Why do cities have to battle each other over which is the “most livable,” “most cosmopolitan” or, even more ridiculous, the “best?”
Mate, I like ‘em all!
For all the same reasons life wouldn’t be much fun if we all looked alike, dressed alike, thought alike or spoke the same way, it’s just really, really good that the world’s major cities are so incredibly un-alike. I hate leaving Sydney and my beloved Bondi Beach, but walking down Piccadilly and through Green Park isn’t too shabby an experience either, and it’s certainly not one you’ll find in Sydney.
That got me to thinking: what are the things I like to do as soon as I arrive in one of these cities, the things that make me glad I’m there? So I made a list.
Ode to the World’s Great Cities
In San Francisco I wait until the weekend (Sunday is best because there’s less traffic) and drive to Treasure Island just before sundown. San Francisco’s skyline is like nothing else; lots of hills, lots of white, tons of quirky buildings and monuments, two big, bold bridges, a huge bay, Alcatraz … there’s a lot to see and it’s all very definitely San Francisco, you couldn’t for a minute confuse it with anywhere else. I see this view in front of an invariably orange sunset and I feel good about being there; that’s a good thing.
London is for walking. Straight out the hotel door, left, right it doesn’t really matter. I keep my eyes open for a park, grab a newspaper—what other city has so many quality daily papers on offer?—and sit myself down on a bench to consume the day’s news. Then on in search of a new pub: with any luck there’ll be a football game on and a partisan crowd to watch it with. Not being a beer drinker is a bit of an impediment, but wine and spirits have the same effect. How many great parks and pubs are there in London? I don’t know, I’m still counting…
Paris is all about watching; don’t feel guilty. French women—and men too, for that matter—would be annoyed if you didn’t notice how sexy they look in their new Christian Lacroix outfit, their favorite leather jacket, or whatever. They dressed up for you, don’t you get it? So right after unpacking I find a comfortable chair at a cafe on a busy boulevard, pretend to make important phone calls, glance occasionally at the Herald Tribune crossword … and watch the world of Paris go by. Give it a try, and for goodness sake don’t feel bad about it.
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