It is good to make out in Berkeley. While it is true that Paris, Hanoi, Tel Aviv, or Panama City may offer more in the way of raw beauty per capita, the hills above Berkeley provide a multitude of dark places to park and neck, obscuring even the ugliest of mugs with the prettiest of views. While high schoolers fill the Lawrence Hall of Science parking lot, the more discerning set climbs higher up Grizzly Peak Boulevard and moseys along the winding Fish Ranch Road, which connects coastal Berkeley with continental Orinda. Up at the dividing line there are some great places to stop where you are less likely to get interdicted by a cop who perceives a naked limb protruding from a rear window. On a clear night, Oakland brims before you in front of the Bay Bridge, all red and yellow with flowing traffic, and the city paints the air around it orange with its strong light. If fog is predicted, you can observe it come through the Golden Gate like a tongue spilling into a mouth. Even if it is stormy, Fish Ranch Road is romantic. The unfettered wind blows rain and mist over your windshield as you look at your lover in the near blackness, warm and alone.