Victoria Mews

Yesterday was one of those days you remember. We have been in San Francisco just short of a week
and still have not managed to take a good look at the Golden Gate Bridge. We saw it enshrouded in
fog on the ferry journey over to Alcatraz, but not close up in all its gleaming glory. So today was the
day, by hook or by crook. We T-lined it down to the end of the line and began the couple of miles
walk to get to the base of the bridge. Lots of people passed us on rented bikes and I did have a
fleeting thought that we should have done that. But I was happy for the walk, as the bridge was in
sight all the way. Well not in sight exactly.

The Golden Gate Bridge is rather shy and coquettish. For the entire week we’ve been here, the tops
of its two pylons and the upper third of its long cables have been hidden in fog. The fog is so
common-place here that San Franciscans have given it a name. Karl. Karl has played tricks on us all
week. There is a low band of fog that sits at bridge height that sits over the city, so that often, even
the tips of the high rise city buildings are not visible. The Golden Gate is no exception. I think Karl
actually takes delight in hiding the bridge from tourists. Regardless, you can see part of the bridge in
a few pics.

Another serendipity was the discovery of Fort Point directly under the bridge. This former 1850s
Army fort was a fortified gun emplacement that no ship could pass without being sent to the bottom
of the Pacific. There are three levels and the battlements up on top, the canon emplacements all still there. It was quite amazing to stroll through it, check out some of the photographic information
guides and get a bit of a feel for the lives of the soldiers during the Civil War. Its four sides surround
a huge parade ground. The whole time you are in the fort, you can hear the cars going over the
southern side of the bridge above you. When I say this fort is under the bridge, I mean this fort is literally
under the bridge and thus, it gives one of the best views of the Golden Gate to be had.

The Golden Gate Bridge is majestic and beautiful, but I had dinner on Circular Quay in Sydney a week
ago and gazed upon our own Sydney Harbour Bridge. How do they compare? The Sydney Bridge
feels like it is more substantial and even though its arch is graceful, the Golden Gate feels just a little
more so. The arches formed by its cables are not as chunky as the steel in Sydney. However, if I had
to put money on which bridge was the more seductive, the more enticing, the more entrancing, the more present, I would have to choose Sydney’s. To be fair, Karl hid the top of the Golden Gate the entire time we were there today, so maybe it’s not a valid judgement. I am not sorry to have spent some time with the Golden Gate today. In 1933, the American Society of Civil Engineers made it one of their seven
wonders of the modern world.

In the evening, we headed off to opening night of the San Francisco opera season to their Opera
House to see Cavallleria Rusticana by Mascagni and its companion piece, Pagliacci by Leoncavallo.
The Opera House was fairly buzzing. All of San Francisco’s society was there for the opening of their
96th season. Tuxedos and fabulous ball gowns, jewels and shoes, handsome men, beautiful women,
men in top hats. San Francisco’s Mayor was present and House Minority Leader (for now) Nancy
Pelosi was there in a box and was given a rapturous ovation – not so many Trump supporters in that
crowd – and the orchestra struck up the national anthem before the performance started,
whereupon the whole theatre, all tiers stood to their feet, hand over heart and belted it out.
Chris and I stood out of respect of course and I hummed along because (1) I don’t share America’s
taste for nationalism (2) I don’t know all the words, and (3) I’m a lover of a good anthem and it’s a
great tune. Bring on the La Marseillaise. I even like our own (when it’s done well). Girt by sea is
bloody fine with me. The Star Spangled Banner was very moving and then we all got down to the operas.

I haven’t made it a custom to go to the opera in the last decade or so. I used to go more often, but of
recent years, I’ve concentrated my efforts on symphonic music, chamber music and the occasional recital. So it was with great anticipation to head into this beautiful opera house, which is far more
ornate, but not over the top like some European houses, than our own Opera theatre in Sydney. A
fair bit of gold, statuary, heavy curtains with giant tassels of course, and wonderful lighting
throughout. It’s a round house and the tiers go way up to the ceiling, so you’re a long way from terra
firma up on those seats. We were situated up on the gallery level. We were actually lucky to get
tickets at all given the kind of night it was.

Opera plots are typically silly. There is always death, a hero, a heroine who either dies and sings or who watches her lover die and they both sing. We had three deaths tonight. I think we got our money's worth. But if you get past the schmaltz of it all, there is often a very human theme there to be seen, accompanied by passionate music. I know so many arias without having seen their entire operas so that when something comes on that I recognise, you have one of those ah ha moments. Both of these operas had a few of those moments.

Just two for now:
Cavalleria Rusticana had that beautiful orchestral accompaniment that everybody knows and that is always in the top 10 gentlest pieces ever written. Google it and you’ll recognise it straight away. I always wondered where such an orchestral piece fitted into an opera. Now I know. The two protagonists dance to it.
The second, was in the Pagliacci, where the clown sings THE most famous tenor aria in all
of opera, Vesti la guibba.

Our audience was different to Australian audiences, enthusiastically applauding and yelling Bravo at songs’s completion. The stuff of movies come true as I watched. The set was brilliant, the chorus was fabulous, the stars were stars. Standout performances were Marco Berti as Pagliacci and Ekaterina Semenchuk as Santuzza. The audience thought so too. I so enjoyed this experience.

PS. There is a reason why Akubra have a range of hats. One important offering is the Akubra
Traveller, a hat I bought a few years ago as a way to travel and still protect myself. You see, the
Traveller can be squished with impunity. You can stuff it in your bag, flatten it down, and bring it back out again, straighten it up, and it’s fine. Thinking this is the Fall in America now and I wouldn’t need it, I didn’t bring it. I know, right. Dumb! Clearly, I was wrong. The walk in the sun to the Golden Gate Bridge yesterday morning now sees me sporting a glowing face that not even Karl could hide. I got myself a nice sun-burn, something I have studiously avoided for years, and here I go and do it right here in America. I’m off today to buy a baseball cap and some moisturiser.Read more