San Francisco: peace and love and the bridge they said could not be built

San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge is 75 years old in May 2012

San Francisco is the city of peace and love. But don't mess with their bridge. "My son says there's only one thing that would make him go to war: if someone attacked the Golden Gate Bridge," says one resident. They love it, they fetishise it, some even tattoo it on their bodies. It's not the city's only bridge, though; what about the Bay Bridge, I ask. The reply is something between a laugh and a snort. That question doesn't merit an answer made out of words.

Every year visitors come and walk across the Golden Gate Bridge, marvelling at its height, its curves, its thrust from the depths of the city skyline right into the mountains on the other side. This year there's even more reason to be here: it's the bridge's 75th birthday.

Joseph Strauss, the chief engineer, spent years battling for his vision of the bridge they said could not be built. It required a feat of engineering to cross the two-mile strait of fierce tides and currents, strong winds and regular blinding fog. What was then the world's longest suspension bridge opened to the public on May 27 1937, and the love affair began.

Campaign HQ for the big party is a trailer overlooking the bridge's south side. Mary Currie, head of public affairs for the bridge district, takes endless calls amid boxes, heaps of documents, DVDs and photographs. "We want the whole community celebrating," she says. "We've got events and tributes the whole year long."

So I'm joining the fan club. How could I not? It's huge. It's orange. It's Art Deco. Great white sharks feed beneath it. And as bridges go, it's a win-win place to be: either direction is very much worthwhile. On one side is San Francisco, "the cool grey city of love". Wooden houses, bright murals, and beardy hipsters coexist with the steel and concrete of glittering skyscrapers. But I'm going the other way: to the rugged mountain lines of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. It's a dizzying change of scene, smells and pace. As you head north off the bridge and into a rainbow tunnel (no kidding), life gets a bit slower – and tastier.

Napa Valley, an area that impressed Robert Louis Stevenson

In 1880 Robert Louis Stevenson honeymooned in Napa Valley, and he foresaw great things for the region's wines: "The smack of Californian earth shall linger on the palate of your grandson." I'm looking forward to validating his predictions. Neighbouring Sonoma Valley has become a world-class centre of food and wine, and the small town of Healdsburg, 90 minutes' drive north of the bridge, is the organic cherry on the artisan cake. Healdsburg is surrounded by vineyards and giant redwood groves. Its central square is impeccable. There are only local shops, and the roadsides are lined with blossom. It's well geared for tourism, with accommodation options ranging from camp sites alongside the Russian River to boutique spa hotels.

The Healdsburg Hotel is one of the top joints in town and I go along with two local friends. Its tasting menu features artful and diminutive beauties such as Yukon gold potato gnocchi with cured duck breast, leek mousseline and red verjus gastrique. My friends observe that it's rare for locals to dine here; more likely customers are well-heeled foodies up from the big cities for a weekend of feasting. Another plate of tiny joy arrives, and I suppress the fantasy of a proper heap of deli-style pancakes. I can't help it – I just wasn't expecting small food in America. It's small, and it's not cheap ($79/£50 each without wine).

The old California is still out there, though. You can take the Californian experience straight from modern gourmet tourism back to flower power, and you don't have to go far. Formerly a commune, the famous Harbin Hot Springs retreat was set up in 1975 by the Heart Consciousness Church. There are wooden houses and futuristic white pods to rent, or you can camp in a setting of more than 5,000 acres of mountain and creek. In the spring-water bathing pools, it's "swimwear optional". No one is wearing anything. I sign up for the renowned Watsu water massage, and head farther around the mountain to a warm pool under a tepee. "Hey there, I'm Antelope," says a hairy man, "and this is your therapist, Patty."

Patty's already in the water. Without swimwear. Luckily her face is friendly and sensible, and she doesn't look at all cosmic. So I ignore the fact that her breasts are so very enormous, and stride into the water as if to say, "Why, we English people do this every other day." An hour of mysterious swirly floating later I am very, v-e-r-y relaxed. No mind-altering drugs required. If you've had Thai, Swedish, hot-stone and the usual, you really need to add this to your massage repertoire: it's good. So good I'm still not quite sure what exactly happened.

Phew. Maybe a stay in Harbin Hot Springs is what the Republican candidates need, I suggest to Patty; their campaigns get bloodier daily. "A-ha, they sure could use a bit of loving care!" she twinkles back. This is becoming a bit of a love-in, but I'm too relaxed to mind. As well as bathing and massage, the retreat offers courses in such things as "Timeless Loving: Sky-dancing Tantra" and "Let the Crazy Child Write".

It's easy to tease the hippy counterculture that persists in pockets of California, yet it's precisely this freethinking spirit that created the wealth surging around San Francisco's Bay Area today. The creativity of the people here took American industry beyond agriculture and automobiles, powering an industrial revolution in Silicon Valley that created the most valuable company on earth: Apple. It's no coincidence that Google, Facebook and Twitter are locals, too. America Inc is doing well round here, and it doesn't wear a tie.

San Francisco city break guide

My final stop seems a world away from Harbin Hot Springs: it's a posh hotel in a former army officers' barracks – what could be less hippyish? Cavallo Point, set among towering eucalyptus trees, is at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge itself. I've come back. The foghorn blows right in on the mist. So do lots of tieless wealthy locals.

Yet here, too, there is an emphasis on sustainability and local produce, a trend rooted in the healthy-eating habits of the hippy movement. The counterculture has been refined: still laid-back, it is now expensive. It has become the prevailing culture. This revolution started out with bean burgers and ended up with locally-sourced bouillabaisse.

And this is the best bouillabaisse I've ever had, lavished with gulf prawns, fresh Monterey squid, house chorizo and Rancho Gordo "heirloom" beans. The food at Cavallo Point is, even by Californian standards, remarkable. This is Michelin-auditioning stuff, and there are the expected foams, reductions and tiny things in a heap. What's more it is not only insanely delicious, but is served with something you don't always get with top-end food: warmth and good humour. (My only complaint: why fry an oyster? The oyster was already a finished product. It's like frying a cup of tea. My fault for ordering it. I just had to know.)

The wine encounter is equally unstuffy. This is the place for those who, like me, experience sommelier-fear, and adopt a silent rictus when the concrete-haired stiff glides across to talk tannins and body. Not here. Cavallo Point's sommelier, Gillian Balance, is blonde and uncommonly jolly. She describes the region's wines in a way that hints at a lavish and rather sexy journey. Naturally, I set to. By the time I've done "big, rich, and very fruit-forward", "buttery, lush", "intense and earth-driven", "citrusy-clean crisp whiteness" then "smoky violets", it's time for a long lie-down. I can't top Gillian's lexicon, so I'll just say that Robert Louis Stevenson would be very happy indeed. And that Californians really do deserve to smile this much.

The sleepy town of Sausalito

There's still something missing, though. A problem with very good hotels is that there's a strong disincentive to go out and explore. The sleepy nearby town of Sausalito is worth the effort (of a 10-minute drive, that is). I scour its pretty streets, until right there in the Lighthouse Café I find, at long last, my heart's desire: pancakes. A heap of pancakes with crispy bacon and syrup. A whole jug of syrup. Bottomless coffee, of course. Yes, California is delicious, but here's the taste of America, I sigh, and tuck in.

San Francisco basics

British Airways (0844 493 0787;, Virgin Atlantic (0844 209 7777;, bmi (0844 8484 888;, Continental Airlines (0845 607 6760;, American Airlines (0844 499 7300; and United (0845 8444 777; all fly direct to San Francisco from Britain. Flight time is around 11 hours outbound and 10hr 30min inbound.

Bee Rowlatt stayed at Cavallo Point (001 415 339 4700l;; double rooms from $309/£195) and spent a day at Harbin Hot Springs (707 987 2477;; double rooms from $90/£57 a night).

For further information on California see

May 27 is the big day. The celebrations will take place all along the waterfront from Fort Point to Pier 39 (the pier famously populated by wild sea lions), and will include music and dance performances, art installations, walks and bike trips, a parade of historic watercraft and a display of cars drawn from the time the bridge was built up until the present. The finale is a fireworks display at around 9.30pm.

For information, see

A new visitor centre on the south-east side is due to open next month. It will include a restaurant, shop and an outlet selling tours.

The celebrations will continue all year. Highlights will include the premiere of the Marin Symphony's Golden Gate Opus, an international students' photography contest, film screenings, an Art Deco Ball with Bridge-era music by the Art Deco Society, family walks and days out, and various exhibitions.


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