you know this is a unique, one-of-a-kind welcome sign.’
‘Well, I’m honoured.’
‘You’ll have to come and meet the kids while you’re here. They’re so excited to meet “another English”. You’ll feel like a celebrity.’ Lizzie took my suitcase and we walked through the terminal building towards the exit. ‘Now, we can do whatever you like. I’d recommend not sleeping yet, to lessen the chance of jetlag beating you up. That flight used to slay me every time.’
I was tired – the kind of weariness you feel aching in the very marrow of your bones – but I was also suddenly ravenously hungry. And, like a kid in the early hours of Christmas morning, I was determined not to miss a second of the day that lay ahead. Sleep could wait: I had a brand new city to meet.
Our cab driver, a portly Greek man in his early fifties, introduced himself as Apollo as we pulled away from the airport terminal and joined the lines of traffic heading onto the freeway.
‘Your first time in San Fran? You’ll love it, lady! I been here sixteen years this fall, and it’s the best place I ever lived. Bar none. I make my home here, I meet my wife here, I raise my kids here. It’s a special place.’
His dark eyes twinkled as he looked in the rear view mirror at Lizzie and I in the back seat. I smiled back, overwhelmed by the feeling of being at home, despite being a thousand miles away from it.
Warm Californian sun flooded into the car and even though my sudden entry into the middle of the morning in a brand new country had left my brain a little befuddled, the scenery whizzing past the windows was enough to grab my attention. Tall hills rose in the far distance, blue skies arced overhead and everything seemed to catch the sun.
‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ Lizzie said, linking her arm through mine. ‘It’s just so good to see you.’
‘You too. It’s been too long.’
‘It has. But we have eight whole weeks to make up for lost time, so let’s make the most of it. Now, I’ve taken a week off from my piano students, so I can show you around.’
‘That’s really kind – but are you sure? I know holidays are like gold dust over here.’
My cousin dismissed my concern. ‘It will be my pleasure.’ Her smile faded a little and she took both my hands in hers. ‘Now, honestly, tell me how you are. Losing your job must have been dreadful.’
‘I don’t know how I am,’ I answered truthfully. ‘It hurt me that they didn’t want me any more but I think I channelled my anger into action to get here. It’s going to take some time for me to work through it.’
‘Take all the time you need, it’s a huge thing to deal with.’ Lizzie squeezed my hands. ‘Have you thought about what you want to do while you’re here?’
‘A little. But I’m up for almost anything. Any suggestions will be gratefully received.’
Lizzie observed me, a sly grin appearing. ‘That is not the Nell Sullivan I knew. You were always Miss Five-Year Plan, even when we were growing up. What’s changed?’
‘My five-year plan has. Which had actually become a six-year plan, without me realising. And then became a defunct plan. Up until last week I let it guide my decisions, but now it’s been taken away I don’t have to stick to the programme any longer. I just want to know what it feels like to have no plan – to step out into my life and see what happens.’
‘Amazing.’ Lizzie stared at me as if seeing her cousin for the first time. ‘And what happens if it isn’t what you want?’
I shrugged, loving the rush of positivity I felt. ‘Then two months isn’t a long time to stick it out before I go home and pick up where I left off.’
‘You go for it, glikia mu,’ Apollo interjected. ‘You only get one chance to live your life. What’s the worst that can happen, eh?’
‘Thanks, Apollo,’ I replied, as Lizzie buried her face in her neck-scarf to stifle her giggles. ‘I’ll remember that.’
‘All’s part of the service.’ His super-white smile rivalled the Californian sun for brightness as it flashed at me in the rear view mirror.
Then, suddenly, the glittering cityscape of San Francisco appeared on the horizon and I lost my breath.
‘Oh wow …’
Lizzie smiled and squeezed my shoulder as I sat upright, drinking in the sight. ‘There she is. Gorgeous, eh?’
‘It’s beautiful. I had no idea.’
‘I told you it’s a special place,’ Apollo grinned over his shoulder, before launching into his own commentary on the sights passing by. The pride he had in his adopted city was infectious and soon Lizzie and I were both nodding along to everything he told us as we began to pass through downtown San Francisco streets that appeared to have come straight out of a film.
We turned a corner into a wide street lined with kooky Victorian houses beneath which were a variety of businesses. The street was lined with trees and every shop sign was hand-painted. Elaborately chalked A-boards promised everything from t-shirts, ice cream and herbal teas to vintage records and books, while bright awnings hung over gaudily coloured shop window displays filled with vintage clothing, hand-crafted items and candles, next to restaurants and bars that spilled out onto the broad sidewalk.
‘Welcome to Haight-Ashbury,’ Lizzie grinned. ‘Your home for the next eight weeks!’
The taxi came to a halt outside a three-storey building with two floors of hexagonal-shaped windows above a New Age clothing and music store, which wrapped around the corner of Haight Street and Cole Street. At one side was an enormous rainbow mosaic, which covered the wall to the next shop further up Cole Street, and a large tree on the sidewalk shaded the entrance to the shop. In the far end of the rainbow mosaic was a door covered in a hand-painted mural to look like acacia blossoms climbing over a dark green brick wall.
Lizzie turned and smiled at me. ‘Here we are.’
We paid Apollo and I thanked him as he unloaded my suitcase from the boot.
‘You have a great time,’ he grinned.
‘I will, thank you.’
Lizzie laughed as we walked up two flights of stairs to her apartment on the top floor. ‘You’ll certainly meet a lot of characters like Apollo while you’re here.’ She opened her front door and ushered me inside. ‘Here it is – home sweet home.’
Her apartment was light and airy, the walls painted white to reflect the sunlight streaming in from the hexagonal bay window. Huge abstract art canvases and vintage posters for San Francisco were displayed on the walls and two enormous spherical paper lampshades hung from decorative plaster roses in the ceiling. In the centre of the main living area was a collection of armchairs and a large squashy couch, all draped in patchwork throws made of tiny pieces of printed Indian fabric. A small table and two chairs were nestled in the window bay and a kitchen area was separated from the main room by a teak breakfast bar. An odd collection of ornaments filled the room – the most noteworthy being a rooster on a motorcycle made out of scrap metal and a life-sized cut-out of Wonder Woman. The aroma of roses was everywhere:
