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Posts Tagged ‘gay history’


If you take a left on leaving the Grace Cathedral on San Francisco’s Nob Hill, you will soon find yourself tottering down Taylor Street, one of those hills that appear to drag you down to the bay before your time. Part way down the street on the left, between Green and Union on what is now part of Russian Hill, you will come across a wooden staircase, complete with handwritten sign, where a different form of worship takes place daily.

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Those stairs lead to Macondray Lane, the acknowledged inspiration for Barbary Lane, where at number 28 resided landlady, Anna Madrigal and her “children” in the celebrated Tales of the City novels written by Armistead Maupin. There are few series of books and group of characters more beloved in all of modern literature. Inevitably, therefore, the residents are forced to share their idyll with a steady flow of pilgrims “doing the Tales tour”, taking photos of both the lane itself and the bay “peeping through the trees”, peering into windows and scouring the undergrowth for Mrs Madrigal’s famed “special” plants.  

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Once at the top of the stairs you be walking on a series of cobbled footpaths through what feels like a wooded glade. The charming and diverse styles of houses share the space with profuse flower displays and other rich foliage. It is a magical place that perfectly captures the spirit engendered by Maupin’s books.

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San Francisco boasts some of the most expensive real estate in the whole country. On the rare occasion that a property in Macondray Lane comes onto the market, the asking price is a mere fraction of that demanded in Pacific Heights (though, admittedly, the houses are much smaller).

But I know which I would rather live in.

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It may no longer be the political and social heartbeat of the LGBT community in San Francisco (so many have moved out to adjoining neighbourhoods), but the Castro still displays its roots proudly.

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Following lunch at the Church Street Café, we sauntered up Market to the intersection with 17th and Castro before turning into Castro Street itself. The number and size of rainbow flags seem to proliferate with every visit. And the full to bursting hanging baskets complemented them perfectly against a soft sky.

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Few tourists intruded on what was a very businesslike atmosphere.

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But humour cohabits with commerce in the upscale  food, gift and clothing stores  that adorn the  main drag  (no pun intended) and adjoining streets.

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It might not flaunt its roots nowadays quite as obviously as arguably Haight Street does, but you might still think twice about subjecting your maternal grandmother from Kansas  to the sights in some of the window displays.

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The most striking building on the street remains the glorious Castro Theatre, which I’m assured by locals is even more spectacular inside. Well, finally, we will get the chance for ourselves to test that opinion by attending the double bill of  Romeo and Juliet (the Leonardo di Caprio version) and Strictly Ballroom on Saturday (escaping the predicted heatwave for a few hours).

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It is run a close second by the beautiful frontage of the Fork Café a few days away from the movie theatre.

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Setting off back down Market Street you might almost miss the brightly coloured mural commemorating those who have died of AIDS since the disease first began to decimate lives in the early eighties. The question in the segment of the mural highlighted above remains as poignant and pertinent today.

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Exiting Castro Street at its western end onto Market Street, one cannot fail to be impressed by what I believe to be the largest rainbow flag on the planet, flying over the plaza that commemorates the legacy of the great Harvey Milk, the first openly gay person elected to public office in the country. His influence continues to blaze where people are discriminated on the grounds of whom they fall in love with.

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