waterfront-promenade1161081649_nrmtf-mvirginia-duran-blog-10-sites-to-take-the-best-skyline-pictures-in-san-francisco-mandarin-oriental-at-duskThere is no question: the Bay Area is much better than Los Angeles. Coming from a girl who has lived in both places, I will proudly tell you that the “yay” is much sweeter and more livable than L.A. The Bay Area is spread out into multiple “bedroom suburbs” surrounding the city of San Francisco, but we seem to have the inclination to be one entity. We are a solid team.  We have our unique nicknames for our cities and we are loyal to our City and most especially, our sports teams— if you are really from the Bay Area, you can find apparel in your closet for the Giants, the A’s, the Warriors, the Sharks, the Raiders, and the 49ers. Furthermore, we have a joined consensus that our Hip-Hop/R&B music is much, much better than any in the world. E-40, too $hort, Kehlani and Mac Dre are just a few names that are played on the radio stations of 102.5, 102.1, 97.3 and 94.9. We know what to answer when someone asks, “What’s my favorite word?” and we know it is custom to play “Function”, “Gas Pedal” and “Moxie Java” at every  party. Well, at least, parties in the East Bay.

Perhaps we are known for our vernacular; words like “hyphy”, “fosho”, “yaddadimean” and my personal favorite and every Angeleno’s nightmare word— “hella”.

You may ask and say: What’s so great about the Bay? L.A. is the entertainment capital of the world. What about Universal Studios? What about the Sky Slide? What about the beaches? What about the Hollywood sign?

And I will gladly respond with: What about it?

Those places are only material to a simple girl from the Bay. They are but mere tourist sites for me. Perhaps the very fabric of my being is woven within the hilly streets of San Francisco, Napa, Walnut Creek, Concord and Benicia. And even if the wintry Christmas nights in the city and the warm summer movie nights at the Concord drive-in are all that I have to compare to the stretches of sand in Malibu and the nightly bar crawls in DTLA, the Bay Area would still win — again and again.

The vast spread of the 680 freeway starting from my hometown Benicia, all the way to the cut off at Walnut Creek for the 24 to the 80 and finally seeing those big, magnificent lights working as a spotlight for The City — those lights that twinkle so much that I feel as if the universe swarmed its goodness into just one place. The Bay Area exudes the sensation of endlessness, that there is something beyond there, that the water holds secrets a chamber could not keep, its rolling hills do not need signs to exude their importance, that this feeling of beyondness, this feeling of warmth and open and infinite possibilities in the most beautiful place in the world is something I will always come back for — something my heart has and will always know.

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