The moment I arrive at my hotel in San Francisco, I throw my suitcases into the room, wash my face and I’m out the door. I don’t care how tired and swollen I get after a 14-hour flight. There is no time to waste.
Out of the hotel, I take a right. Twenty steps later, I’m standing in front of the coziest and best manicured public park my eyes have ever seen. I gaze at the empty bench and start dreaming of the afternoons I’ll spend there, reading a book while Linda, my Airedale Terrier, sits quietly by my side.