My Two-Day San Francisco Habit

Using this old map of Chinatown as my guide, I sortied from the hotel just before noon and walked a couple blocks down Kearny towards the location of the "white shooting gallery" formerly at 728 Clay Street. The building is long gone. There is no 728 Clay anymore, but the spot is now a two-story brick building readdressed as 729 and 729a, the former being a somewhat respectable tea house.

After that I "climbed the grid ladder" of China town, going up block by block, zigzagging between Clay and Washington, including the alley above Grant, where even amidst the modern tourists a big Occidental toting a backpack and carrying a big Post-It Easel still gets a second glance from the folks standing in front of the nondescript doors of ancient residences and the backs of gift shops.

Going up the flank of Nob Hill, Chinatown still drops off quickly above Stockton, as it did on that old map. There are Chinese people, to be sure, for example at the self-service laundry on Powell and Clay, but it doesn't look like Chinatown---just "normal San Francisco," neither manifestly poor nor wealthy, before you start climbing into the more manifestly upscale at the crest of the hill.

My destination was the me coffeeshop as yesterday, across the street from the Cable Car Museum. It has a comfortable vibe. On Day 2, I already have a routine.

But that's the compromise I have to make, in a constantly reshifting environment---the repetition of petty habit that develops instantly in a new place. In each new locale, I tend to eat and work in the same places once I find ones that work for me. It lets me parcel out my psychological reserves required to confront newness. If I were traveling for pleasure, I might not need to do this, but work itself speaks of routine. I'm not on vacation. I'm just living a normal work-a-day life amidst a shifting terrain.