A Tourist In My Own Home

I love driving in the mountains. Although it was difficult for me to learn to feel comfortable being able to see only a dozen feet in front of me, I have come to enjoy the smooth curves of the road as it winds like a snake through the hills. Yet, the last time I drove through the mountains, I ended up at a very unusual location: the beach.

For a moment, I was confused. How can I drive upwards for half an hour and hit the ocean? Then it hit me; I live in Silicon Valley. Valley: An elongated depression between mountain ranges. I can’t hit the beach without driving through the mountains. Yet, despite a decade and a half of living in California, I somehow managed to forget that all of my trips to the beach included a twisty trip through the mountains.

In a way, this realization was a direct result of living away from home. The biggest shock of living on the East Coast actually had nothing to do with the East Coast, it was the questions that I had to field about California. “What are the beaches like? What do you do in San Francisco? How many surfers do you know?”

It wasn’t until then that I realized that many of these questions I couldn’t answer. Although I could say with certainty that surfers weren’t nearly as ubiquitous as many think, I couldn’t remember much about the beaches or the city. Perhaps this was because my childhood wasn’t based around these typical “Californian” activities—I lived a typical suburban childhood. I spent my weekends at one of the many local multiplex theaters, and I spent my nights playing board games at friends’ houses. This wasn’t to say that I hadn’t spent at least a few of my days in Ghirardelli Square; it just wasn’t a big part of my childhood memories.

But these constant questions had an impact, and I started to get curious about what I was missing. Perhaps that’s why I’ve returned this summer to answer some of those questions and play the part of the tourist in my own home.

What I’ve found is quite stunning. Although I treasure my childhood, I’ve suddenly done a lot of typical “Californian” things this summer—and surprised myself by enjoying them immensely.

For example, I’ve learned the art of choosing the perfect beach. Half Moon Bay is located right on Highway 1, making it the ideal drive along the ocean. The coast is shaped to create alcoves that make fantastic areas to look for interesting wildlife. Best of all, it is not nearly as crowded as most beaches. The tradeoff, though, is the weather: located so close to San Francisco, Half Moon Bay adopts the city’s sharp winds and low temperatures (at least by Californian standards). Santa Cruz may be a better choice for some, where the warm beaches and moderate water temperature are offset by huge crowds.

Yet the beach is only a small part of the state that has everything—within a few hours drive, it is possible to reach the beach, state and national parks, snow (in the right weather), and a lively city. San Francisco has an amazing array of culture and sights that rivals the best cities in the world. Although everyone is told that the cable cars are simply an over-hyped tourist attraction, I loved standing on the edge and enjoying the wind as the cable cars whisk over the city’s characteristic steep hills. Fisherman’s Wharf was just as tourist-filled as the Yard but worth the experience simply to watch the unique street performers. The Bushman, a man disguised as a bush on the sidewalk, was my favorite; periodically he jumped out and scared pedestrians walking by.

Being a tourist at home has allowed me to relive much of the childhood that I had forgotten. I knew when I decided to go to Harvard that I would be expanding my horizons and seeing things I had never seen before; I just didn’t expect those new experiences to be so close to my own backyard.

Ashish Agrawal ’08, a Crimson editorial editor, is a biochemical sciences concentrator in Eliot House. In the fall, you can find him taking pictures in front of the John Harvard statue, trying to see if being a tourist in his second home is as enlightening as being a tourist in his home state.