Exquisite views, Chinatown food tour start American holiday off right

Looking in from the outside, the land of my birth doesn't seem the most attractive place these days. Mass shootings, rising strains of racism and isolationism, fear and anger dominating public conversations. As our flight crossed into American airspace, I wondered: was this really a good idea?

San Francisco on a sunny weekend is, fortunately, a life-affirming antidote to all that negativity. A diverse, optimistic, energetic city of the world, blessed with clement weather and great landscapes; I can see why everyone loves it.

Initial impressions:

• It's a far bigger, more sprawling place than I'd imagined. We get used to the walkability of European city centres; this is a different beast.
• The bay is almost impossibly beautiful. Framed by golden hills, bookended by gracious suspension bridges, dotted by sailboats. It's hard to pull your eyes away.
• Let the unfit beware; it's ridiculously steep. Getting anywhere seems to involve clambering up and down streets that would test any driver's nerves and brakes. San Franciscans must laugh heartily when they arrive in Rome and look for seven hills. The Italian capital is as flat as a pancake in comparison.
• On the down side, there are a lot of homeless people. Many clearly afflicted by mental problems, raging away to themselves and at passers by. While perfectly comfortable walking around in a group of four, if I were here on my own I'd be more wary.
• This is a town that takes food very seriously.

We were already aware of the last point, which is one of the reasons our first act as tourists was a foodie-focused walking tour of Chinatown. The oldest Chinese community in the USA and the largest outside of Asia, this is a must-see destination for any visitor. Adding food, plus a local guide, makes it even better. And given the bewildering number of establishments in this sprawling, 24-square-block area, it's perhaps the only way you're guaranteed to find the quality amongst the tourist traps.

Our tour leader Lois was a local whose father had been a baker at one of Chinatown's most respected bakeries. We spent about three hours wandering the heart of the district, interspersing eating and drinking with learning about the history and development of the area. While San Francisco may be a beacon of tolerance now, the Chinese community here was ostracised and prejudiced against for most of its history. Lois' ability to conjure the squalor of what once took place in narrow alleys, and the cramped conditions of tenement apartment blocks even today, was a sobering counterpoint to the culinary merriment.

We sampled dim sum at two places, the second at Eastern Bakery where Lois' father once worked. Their pork buns were astonishing, but they're best known for a vast range of traditional moon cakes. I wasn't so keen on these, but another treat ... sweet bean paste in a donut-like sphere of dough rolled in sesame seeds ... was a fine correction of my impression that the Chinese don't really do desserts.

Going with a local meant not only the best bites, but explanations of what we were eating and how to eat it. I now know to flip my chopsticks to the end that doesn't touch my mouth to serve myself, and to tap my fingers twice on the table to thank whoever has poured my tea. I know the concept of how to shift, scoop, bite, slurp and swallow a soup dumpling, though doing it with grace ... and without getting soup down my shirt ... will take practice.

We learned all about tea at Vital Tea Leaf on Grant Street, a remarkably peaceful oasis where an expert with a rich line in comedy brewed us five different cups and explained the merits of each. His celebration of top quality leaves, brewed briefly and served quickly, only in the quantities needed for immediate consumption, was a revelation. Chinese tea has all the variety, terroir and ceremony of wine ... and everything we sampled was vastly nicer than the stuff I usually reject in favour of coffee. We also visited a fortune cookie factory, where two women risk carpal tunnel syndrome as they peel pancakes of just-cooked dough off an assembly line of vertical skillets, wrap a fortune inside, then fold and bend over a metal bar. The cookies harden into their final shape in seconds.

Later that day we wandered around the Ferry Building, packed with gourmet food stands with a bustling farmer's market behind it. Fresh morels, artisan cheeses, sourdough baked goods in every variety imaginable and produce of such fragrant perfection it can bring a visitor to tears of envy. (I think I might actually be able to give up cakes and chocolate if I could lay my hands on white peaches of this quality all the time.)

We ended the afternoon taking a ferry to and from Sausalito. That maritime scene gets even more beautiful when you view it from its centre. Had I bought some fortune cookies to snack on during the journey, I'm positive they would have read: "this is going to be a wonderful vacation."

LFO keeps Wagner creds with pleasing interpretation of difficult opera

Some stories tap into the human condition in such a fundamental way, they're eternal. Swap the setting of Macbeth, and it remains a relevant exploration of greed and human ambition. Traviata's Victorian morals may be dated, but the story of a strong woman who sacrifices herself for others still lacerates the heart.

And then there's Tannhauser.

The fundamental elements that drive the plot are so at odds with the modern world ... so incredible (in its literal use), the opera is very hard to take seriously. You'd be hard pressed not to cheer on the bad guys and think the hero is a misguided idiot unworthy of any empathy. In a modern context, the intellectual explorations here barely deserve 15 minutes, much less a Wagnerian four hours. Which makes it all the more extraordinary that Longborough Festival Opera has produced a version that held my interest throughout and provoked many moments of delight. I overheard several true Wagner aficionados saying it was the best production of this work they'd seen. Once again, this little opera company in Gloucestershire has proven its Wagner creds.

Let's get the problematic plot out of the way. Our hero is a musician who, sometime before the start of our story, has left his employer. Wandering the wider world, the goddess of love finds him so beguiling she invites the mortal into her underground kingdom, the Venusberg, where she becomes his lover and indulges him in all manner of pleasures. He's not a captive, and Venus is a strong, sexy, interesting woman. But Tannhauser starts drowning in guilt. He wants to be human again, subject to morals, rules and death. So he chucks everything in to go home. For a short time, things go swimmingly; he's even on track to win the hand of the princess. Until he lets slip that he's been in the Venusberg. At which point his fundamentalist society turns on him and ostracises him without forgiveness. Such is his crime that even after a long, painful pilgrimage to Rome, the Pope won't absolve him. (So much for forgiveness as the basis of Christianity.) The princess dies of grief over her unrequited love. Venus is willing to take Tannhauser back but he choses death alongside the human girl.

Most operas end with everyone miserable and a high body count, but this one is unique in the pointlessness of it all. The arc to Tosca's suicide is poignant and believable; Tannhauser is just a tedious fool.

Enjoying this opera, then, requires ignoring the plot. You concentrate on the music and a few set pieces within the wider story. And this is where Longborough works its magic.

Tannhauser's overture is one of the most monumentally sweeping pieces of music Wagner wrote. It's unusually long, and these days directors use the time to do some scene setting. At Longborough we saw the lead who would go on to play Tannhauser as Wagner himself, seeking creative inspiration amongst the troubles of his home life. I enjoyed the idea of the opera that followed as an autobiographical exploration of the emotional demons driving the composer, though I doubt I would have enjoyed much time in his angst-ridden, morally conflicted company. I was happy to just close my eyes and listen. Wagner is written into the DNA of the Longborough Festival Opera, and hearing this overture live in such close surrounds is an almost religious experience. To hell with Tannhauser. As the strings swell, I'm back atop the Zugspitze, then taking wing over the majestic peaks of the Bavarian mountains.

This overture establishes the leitmotifs that flow through the opera. They appear in delightful arias throughout, with many of the most pleasing tunes coalescing in a song contest in the middle of the story. The LFO's leads were strong as ever, but the real star this year was the chorus. Whether bubbling in excitement before the song contest, massing in condemnation of Tannhauser's sin or processing through the theatre in penitential procession to Rome (a particularly successful piece of staging), their voices combined to deliver powerful emotion.

While I persist in my desire to see Wagner staged in full 19th-century gothic grandeur, I understand that's not the modern way ... nor could the LFO's tiny stage and moderate budget handle it. Instead, they made bold statements with sparse, elegant stage design and clever costumes. The set for the great hall worked best, an angular, Aztec-like temple dressed with blazes of colour from banners and clothing as the chorus filled the stage. Men wore colourful long gowns with women donning earth-coloured clothing and hijabs ... presumably a sartorial shorthand driving home the fact that this is a repressed, fundamentalist theocracy. The flawed plot could have been more credible if they'd taken that idea further, with Venusberg as the West and Tannhauser pulled between the two societies, but that's no doubt too politically incendiary to mess with.

The Venusberg was less successful, as our love goddess worked a swing on an otherwise bare stage. We were, no doubt, supposed to fill in the blanks by conjuring the lush sexuality of Fragonard's famous painting, but it was a demanding leap for the audience. I did, however, appreciate the metaphorical parallel at the end, when the swing of sin was replaced by a giant, swaying incense burner. Religion triumphs over pleasure.

Tannhauser's not an opera I have any desire to see again, but I'm glad I've had the experience. I'm relieved I saw it at Longborough, always a safe pair of hands when it comes to interpreting this challenging composer. If you're unsure of Wagner but want to give him a try, this is the place to do it.

And there will be no better time than next season. Longborough has announced a revival of last year's Tristan and Isolde, my favourite of all the Wagner productions we've seen there. Because so many members have already seen it, it's possible this will open up space for more of the general public to get in. Check their web site later in the year for details of dates and ticket availability.