Leaving San Francisco

When I first landed in the Bay Area my taxi driver got lost. It was July 2011. I had just stepped off a 13-hour flight from London, where I had spent the past 2 years. (Technically the flight was from Stockholm where I had been visiting friends for a long weekend, but regardless — ) I wasn’t going far — just to Menlo Park, where I was to be staying on a friend’s sofa — but this was before you could assume everyone had a magic box in their pocket that could solve more or less any problem in a few taps. 6 weeks before, when I had been staying with the same friend while interviewing for a new job, I had to get a GPS with my rental car to find my way around. It was a strange, liminal time. Everyone could feel that the world had fundamentally changed but the oncoming wave of mobile technology was still primitive and limited, an often frustrating glimmer of its full potential. <a href="https://nmoryl.com/leaving-san-francisco-2bf3663072cd">Click Here</a>