Alone in the Crowd: A San Francisco Photo Walk
As is my tendency, I arrived at the San Francisco Leica Store early and grabbed a seat in the rear where I knew everyone would gather. With the steady increase in people came the usual buzz of gear talk, lens envy, and casual camera exchanges, all in nervous excitement for the adventure to come. The size of the crowd grew larger than I had expected, easily over 100 people, and I was reminded I wasn’t in Sacramento anymore.
During my Sacramento area meetups and walks, I’m fairly outgoing and am at ease. In San Francisco, my introvert takes over. I’m not sure if it’s from the density of people, overstimulation, or the amount of hipsters gathered in one area, but for whatever reason, I tend to float solo at these events. I become an observer among observers.
Still, I’m not a total pariah at these things. I made a few introductions, exchanged a couple of “What are you shooting withs?” and nodded politely as people spied the Leica M11-P hanging around my neck. Mostly, I was preoccupied with filming with my new DJI Osmo Pocket 3. Turns out filming a photo walk is like trying to film a sporting event when you miss the best action because you’re chimping the previous shot.
Then came the scavenger hunt.
Scan in the QR code, and boom, just like that, a bingo card filled with dogs, red lanterns, Portsmouth Square, and two playgrounds I’d never heard of, let alone laid eyes upon. Suddenly, the lonely meandering I had expected had a purpose. Not in a change the world kind of way, but a mission none-the-less.
After the obligatory picture of all us taken by the Leica staff, the crowd pushed out into the cool air. The fog layer still filled the sky and I had my San Francisco Giants fleeced-lined jacket on as we approached the Dragon Gate. After taking a few frames of the many tourists gathered posing for group shots, I passed under the gate like I’ve done dozens of times before and walked up Grant Avenue. I was working on pure muscle memory at this point as I passed the gold trinket shops, red lanterns stretched across the sky, and the occasional whiff of incense.
Following the photographs at the gate, I quickly knocked off some low hanging fruit from the bingo card—a cable car, dogs in a stroller, and many compositions of the red lanterns. I’m not prone to asking strangers for portraits, so I thought I’d grab one of a fellow photographer as he composed a shot.
I kept pulling out the DJI Osmo Pocket 3 to balance filming with still photography. Even though it’s a compact camera, using it kept taking me out of the moment. I have trouble focusing on the task at hand normally, filming video made it that much more difficult for me to really keep my head in the game.
Even still, as I made my way deeper into Chinatown, the city pulled me in despite myself. The farther I went, the more dissolved the large group became, as everyone splintered off in different directions. I didn’t really feel any time pressure, I was just hoping to be surprised by something new and fresh.
Ross Alley was that something.
Considering how many times I’ve walked that neighborhood, it feels criminal that I’ve never once made my way through that narrow street. I actually had a hard time finding it. After spotting fellow scavengers and asking directions, I walked up the hill and turned into the alley and was immediately struck by the colors. That soon gave way to the massive line of people. WTF? Why was there a line of people in this random, small alleyway?
I pulled out my video camera and began walking down the alley along the back wall. I glanced over at the sign where the line of people began and silently nodded my head. Of course. They were lined up outside the Golden Gate Fortune Cookie Factory. To this day, they still hand fold the cookies. As I passed it smelled like sugar and hot paper.
Reaching the end of the alley, I put away my video camera and turned to concentrate on taking stills as I sauntered back the way I came. The mass of the crowd affected my ability to stay calm, cool, and collected. Instead, I just snapped away, hither and yon, at the colorful signage, lanterns, and people.
Portsmouth Square and the Muni station were the last items on my list in Chinatown. After grabbing some shots at those locations, it was time to head to North Beach. As the hues of red gave way to more muted earth tones, I turned the corner and Cafe Zoetrope popped into view with its green copper facade, and behind it, the famous Transamerica building. I thought to myself, two birds, one frame.
Up the hill, the famed Broadway and Columbus was next. When I was a kid in the 70’s, this was the heart of the red light district. It still clings to that history but the vibe feels more curated than seedy. The glow from the neon lights of the strip clubs feels more nostalgic than earnest.
I continued up the gentle slope past cafes and restaurants with hand-painted windows that haven’t changed in decades. I was alone, but not isolated. Every so often I’d run into another scavenger hunter and we’d exchange a quick nod or any tips and then move on. These weren’t much in the way of conversations, but it was enough to make me feel connected to something larger than myself.
Before I knew it, Washington Square Park appeared at the bottom of the hill. Groups of photographers had already gathered and were chatting, cameras slung over their shoulders and hearty smiles on their faces. I moved into position to get a shot of Coit Tower sitting atop the hill looking down on the park. With my final shots captured, it was time for the raffle.
Three numbers were called, none were mine. No matter. The day was not measured by free film or gift certificates.
Once the raffle was done, the event was officially over. No goodbyes, no wrap-up speeches, everyone just slowly drifted away. I had no one to leave with but that felt right. I hadn’t come for giveaways or to make best friends. I came for the rhythm of the city and to get lost in its vibe. Sometimes being behind the camera is all I need to feel like I belong.
I made my way up to one of my favorite restaurants, Sodinis. They opened a minute after I arrived so I got a good seat at the bar. Dinner was as it always is: simple, flavorful, and unpretentious. The kind of meal that requires no photos, just presence.
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