There’s Nothing Funny About Nob Hill: Five Things I Learned From My First Week Living in San Francisco

Before moving here last Friday, I had already spent quite a bit of time in San Francisco – I’ve been back and forth five or six times this year, I think – but there is a big difference between visiting somewhere, even frequently, and living there. Here’s what I have learned so far…

1. There’s nothing funny about Nob Hill. Without exception every one of my British friends has sniggered like an 11 year-old schoolboy when I told them I was going to live in Nob Hill. Responses ranged from “I bet you are” to “You can get an ointment for that”. This has thrown highlighted for me one of the major cultural differences between Brits and our American cousins – the sense of humor. While I was raised on a diet of Carry On films, On the Buses and Viz, this type of saucy seaside postcard humor does not translate. There is nothing funny about Nob Hill to a San Franciscan. Nor is there anything funny about the area between Nob Hill and the Tenderloin, known as… Tendernob. (I know.)
2. George Bernard Shaw was right when he said “England and America are two nations divided by a common language”. It’s not like I have difficulty making myself understood; I’ve spent long enough in the company of Americans to know that rocket is arugula, a queue is a line and shrimps and prawns are essentially the same thing, but there are still linguistic surprises at every turn. The California Girlfriend (CGF) is particularly fond of pointing these out. Use of the phrase “good job” (as in “good job I brought a jacket”) never ceases to amuse her, and I spent several minutes trying to explain what cling film is. I still don’t know what she calls it.
3. San Franciscans love to queue, or should I say ‘stand in line’. I mean, I thought Brits loved to queue, but San Franciscans will queue for anything, quite happily. I don’t just mean for a good brunch spot, just this morning I’ve seen lines stretching half a block for ice cream, baked goods and coffee. Coffee! I mean you can get coffee anywhere. Especially here, were it is some sort of religion, as far as I can tell.
4. No-one has a washing machine. I thought this was just a convenient plot device in The Big Bang Theory, but it’s true. I mean I haven’t not had a washing machine since Before Bill Clinton was President, but here it’s perfectly normal to undergo the weekly ritual of traipsing down to the laundry room and returning later to find your wet clothes on the floor.
5. Drinking is not a national sport. I sort of knew that Brits drink more than Americans, but this was brought home to me when a colleague suggested we all go on a bar crawl. I suggested a kitty (another word they had not come across and found both hilarious and perplexing) and they bought into this idea. I don’t think we even spent it all. We ended up in a Chinese restaurant (as many a bar crawl is wont to do) but this was after all of two We drank Chinese tea. To paraphrase Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz: “We’re not in Camden anymore.”

It’s been a great first 10 days, with everything you could hope for from this great city: sunshine, fog, hills, amazing sunrises and sunsets, every type of food and today, just for me, rain – the first the city has had since May. It’s full of little differences, each one to be celebrated.