On Sunday afternoon we drove in to Sausalito, a little town of about 7,000 people near San Francisco. It’s a bay community and most of the houses are built into the hillside, overlooking the San Francisco Bay as well as parts of the Golden Gate Bridge. We wandered down the main street, Bridgeway, while we people-watched and navigated through a odd shops here and there. We followed the flow of the tourists and gazed at the homes, hills and bay edges.

I’ve got a problem with embracing my role as a tourist. I just don’t feel comfortable wandering around a place, making sure to take pictures at all of the designated spots where 175 million people have taken the exact same shot. I don’t feel that the food and sights are genuine. This isn’t confined to Sausalito — I feel this way in almost any tourist spot. It troubles me. In fact, I’m often angry about it.

Tourists tend to ruin a place. The “place” is not real. It may have been real at one point, but it’s been turned into a revenue stream and a ghost of what once was a genuine experience. I don’t want to sound ungrateful. I’m happy that the community allows people to visit the area — It’s great that they draw a number of people to their unique little town. I’m sure it’s good revenue. However, I wish that a Sausalito resident could have grabbed my arm as I wandered the streets and showed me what the area is truly about. What makes it special to them? I upset myself in that I can’t just sink into the mentality of enjoying t-shirt shops and ice cream cones. Why not submit to the fun laid out in front of me? No, I’ll be bitter about it instead.

There is a ferry that runs between Sausalito and San Francisco. Unfortunately we were too late to catch the correct ferry. Although we could have reached the San Francisco port, we’d have been stuck there with no return trip. It’d be a long walk back to the car. Rather than ferry, we chose to grab a bite at one of the restaurants near the boat docks. The clam chowder was great. The crab cake sandwich was less so. Not bad… not great.

We walked out of the restaurant in time to see the sun dip over the mountain. There was some excellent light hitting the docks. Inspired, my dad and I both saw rushed over towards the boats and water. While I’m sure that you could monetize the idea of watching clouds roll over the hilltops, lit by the warm oranges and purples of sunset, there were no tourists there at the moment. Just us with our cameras, checking out the light.

I really don’t intend to sound bitter. It’s a cool place that I’d love to explore more of… I guess I just don’t want to color in the lines.

We ended the day with a trip to the spots that overlook the Golden Gate Bridge. What a cool feeling to be up above the bridge, looking down on the lights of SF with this giant orange-rust colored steel structure in front of you. As we walked back down the path I wondered what it would be like to live out here and absorb the San Francisco culture/lifestyle/sights/sounds/experience. I’d bring a tripod.