Travel the world

Once Upon A Summer Of Love

Peggy and I hit Haight Ashbury today. “The Haight” is a neighbourhood of the long gone 60s San Francisco counter-culture: an era when hippies, drug culture psychedelia and the rock n’ roll lifestyle were the norm. This bohemian subculture still exists today as we walked down the street to see the children or perhaps, grandchildren reincarnates channeling their original hippies ascendants. There were street kids and dread-locked hippies on each and every block; many of whom had their guitars, sitars and canines as they sang and played for their daily supper, whilst wafts of nag champa drifted out of pot-friendly stores and vintage clothing shops.

Where there’s a big city and there’s an alternative scene, there will be such an neighbourhood. I’ve seen these communities practically everywhere I’ve traveled. Jackson Square in New Orleans, East Village/St Marks in New York, Camden in London and Haight in San Francisco. Even Granville Street in Vancouver, before the big clean up.

Although you can see the gentrification at the Haight, what with the establishment of stores such as American Apparel and Ben n’ Jerry’s, the area remains very true to its roots. It’s a great little area to visit whenever you’re in the mood to conjure up your inner flower child and see where superstars such as Janis Joplin, Jefferson Airplane and the Grateful Dead used to call home.

As we walked the Haight, I tried to imagine Peggy and me as peace-lovin’, long haired hippies, passing out flowers and bracelets to people passing by, but all I could imagine was us as colourfully outfitted, sparkles on our faces, wide legged jeans and baby t-shirt wearing ravers we used to be in the early 90s (our generation’s version of hippies).

But like my raver days, so are the days gone by that I would stay all day at the Haight and hippie hill. I’ve outgrown the scene long ago and such bohemian days are now relegated to fond memories. I guess that’s a sign of your age, when you can’t find something to buy nor anything that’d catch your eye or hold your attention.

But then again, I’m perhaps always been more of the North Beach type; a neighbourhood personifying the free-thinking beatnik spirit. North Beach: the mother church of the Beat generation. From past to present to future, you can find me at City Lights Books every time I visit, going from stack to stack, books piled up a mile high in my arms.

Too cerebral to be hippie by nature, I do love some of the music from the psychedelic days. Snd what visit to the Haight is not complete without checking out Scott Mackenzie’s song that perfectly encapsulated the time? Written by John Phillips of the Mama and the Papas and released in June 1967, what is now known as the summer of love, is the wonderful ode to an amazing city and its inhabitants.