Coming to California, and then just never leaving….
The story repeats itself all the time: You live here in the Bay Area and you meet nice people, talkative people. As today, when I walked with my family down by the Alameda beaches in the Bay, looking at the occasional swimmer, surfer and bird celebrating the last days of April. This is a wonderful place to do so.
But I approach this guy working on his gear to get ready for the mounting winds. He´s from France, it appears. He is fitting the ropes and board to his sail, getting ready to go out on the waves. I am a little envious, since I would have liked to do the same. But then I ask him where he´s from, and how long he´s been doing these things.
He´s form France. He used to go windsurfing on the lakes around Geneva, he said. Then, when he was finished with school he came to America to work for a couple of years. “I do a lot of motor biking and windsurfing”, he said.
He came here, took one good look and told himself: “This is perfect I´m never leaving.” And he never did. 15 years later, we meet on the sidewalk and chat for the first and the last time.
But how often have I heard that exact story? Part of the San Francisco Chronicles, is what it is.