I'm in San Francisco for the week and so far all I've seen is an evening view on the trip into the city from the airport. Today was spent in hotel meeting rooms and now I'm too exhausted to do more than look out on a wonderful view from the 33rd floor of this posh hotel. I can see the harbour, nicely wreathed in fog around the edges, and a bit of what might be the Golden Gate Bridge. As I was driven in last night, I thought about the last time I came here, about 27 years ago. Nothing is familiar now, but I remember coming by taxi from the airport to a hotel with my two boys, who had been angels on the plane. Noel was 7, Evan 3 1/2, and I was dismayed to find my feet swollen considerably during the flight, a situation probably aggravated by my pregnancy. The boys were sick that night, so we got little sleep, but we all recovered by the next day and had a trip to Sausalito before heading south to see other places. I wonder if either of them has any memory of that trip.