July 1971, you’re on a week away vacation to San Francisco for your 23rd birthday. It’s your second day and you’re spending it on the beach. While you’re on a deckchair, relaxing in the shade as well as the other people on the beach, you notice a man in shorts and an unbuttoned shirt walking towards you, his long curly golden blonde hair gently flowing in the breeze, you look at him through your sunglasses.

“Hello love, nice day isn’t it?” he speaks in his charming British accent.