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SAN FRANCISCO USA
At the end of our streets is sunrise;
At the end of our streets are spars;
At the end of our streets is sunset;
At the end of our streets the stars.
Ever the winds of morning
Are cool from the flashing sea –
Flowing swift from our ocean,
Till the fog-dunes crumble and flee.
- George Sterling
Discover Exciting Experiences
Taste Your Way Through the City
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