Eats, Writes, and Leaves

There, I’ve written it. Out loud, on my travel writing blog.

*cringing in anticipation of stinky tie-dyed lightning striking me dead*

It’s not because I went to Stanford, and it’s not because my parents forbade me from applying to UC Berkeley because my mother was convinced that I’d end up living in a crack house. To be honest, it’s not even because I’ve been a victim of a crime while visiting Berkeley. I haven’t. And on paper, I should like Berkeley–it’s got an amazing culinary culture, attractive B&Bs, and the offices of the most awesome travel guide publishing company on Earth.

But I just don’t like the town. I am unshakeably prejudiced against scary-looking, nasty smelling, obviously altered, and aggressive panhandlers who hassle me on the sidewalk. I don’t love “parks” filled with filthy sleeping bags and stolen shopping carts. While I’m not exactly a social conservative, I hate it when people shout at me on streetcorners and call it politics. It’s even worse when the shouting people then condescend to me for no apparent reason.

A word to the Berkeley partisans: have you been to the Downtown Berkeley BART station lately? As a small female stranger to the area, I felt distinctly uncomfortable both down in the subway area and up above it. (Though I was fine on the BART train itself.) About the same discomfort I felt while at a Paris Metro stop deep in the Pigalle neighborhood. I have good instincts for that sort of thing, and they don’t go off for no good reason.

All that said, please do comment here if you love Berkeley! Give me a reason to give Berkeley another chance. Send me (and my readers) to your favorite restaurant, tell me about a fabulous club, share your best memory of an elegant motel or funky Inn. Please!