I’m awake in the middle of the San Francisco night, maybe because my body’s still on London time, maybe because the moon is shining in the window. No matter. As always, I’m over-the-moon delighted to be here.   My relationship with this city began before I ever came here, with TV images and information leaking across the Atlantic from America to Ireland: The peace and love, long hair and free spirits of the hippie movement were a flow of fresh air to a child growing up in the caustic silence of late 1960s rural Ireland. San Francisco’s role as the epicenter…