Pacific Northwest in a Hurry
24 hours in Portland
From San Francisco I would embark on what, ultimately, would be the longest train journey of my travels. It turns out San Francisco is around the middle of California while Portland is in very northern Oregon – who knew? What lies in between? Northern California and the rest of Oregon allegedly, though I couldn’t tell you about them apart from witnessing some beautiful mountain scenery and a lot of pine trees from the moving train.
Beautiful Pacific Northwest from the Train
At the station in San Francisco I befriended an older gentleman from Korea after an exchange of smiles. This was his third time visiting his brother in San Francisco and he’d done some traveling around the states of the packed tour bus variety, but this was his first time venturing out on his own for a trip to Seattle and he was a bit nervous. I shared stories of my travels and helped assure him he was in the right place, helped him find his seat on the train and settle down, even moving seats to be closer to him at his urging. It really wasn’t much effort on my part, but through my travels I’d realized that a little kindness can go a long way. In gratitude the Korean man bought me breakfast (though I wasn’t hungry) and kept bringing me coffee without me offering throughout the trip before I jumped off in Portland.
I arrived in Portland in the evening, dropped my bag at the hostel and set off to see the city. I stopped by the famous Powell’s bookstore – a three story complex of new and used books, travel accessories and a small café. The place was brimming with character and after browsing the extensive racks I was sad to not have room in my bag for a pile of new reading material. Feeling a bit peckish, I then wander to an area I was told had some night life and found a promising Irish pub with live music and delicious Shepard’s pie, which at $10 a serving didn’t quite feel like modest worker’s food, but was delicious none the less.
Portland Park Picnics
On my way back to the hostel I wandered the empty streets (it being a Tuesday night) and found Portland to be a bit of a strange segmented place. The area I was in was brimming with strip clubs and bars, then I’d cross the street and suddenly be distinctly in China town. A few blocks later, through seemingly empty buildings and bland storefronts, the trendy artsy neighborhood begins. This is not too uncommon for an American city, but it amazed me the contrast between the sections with a clear line or dull nothingness in between – there seemed to be no blending of the neighborhoods. After wandering a bit in the ritzy, artsy neighborhood I stumbled across a place which stood out remarkably – the “Low Brow Lounge” and stepped in for a beer. Like the bookstore, the place had remarkable character and a pleasant mix of young people making up its few tables. I sat at the bar and started talking to the bartender about Portland. He told me about the ample music scene, the rapid expansion and growth and lamented the loss of his “old small town Portland”. His worries supported my observations - that Portland’s a small town struggling with its identity and loosing some of its old charm through a rapid expansion. That’s what popularity gets you, I guess. The next day, walking around the city center, down the river and through one of its many parks, my opinion solidified. Maybe my expectations were too high, or my visit was too short, but I couldn’t help but feel disappointed by this city which I’d heard so much about.
Portland Park
In my wanderings though, I observed one of the quaintest and oddest things I’ve seen yet. I rounded a corner downtown to see a small crowd gathering around a tent in a nearby park. I stopped in and looked over the peoples’ shoulders to see what was going on. It was then that I noticed some oh so stereotypically beautiful women – complete with permanent smiles which looked like they’d been ironed on – decked out in sequined red tops and tight black pants. “Interesting”, I thought to myself. With further observation I picked out some older gentleman about 7 feet tall freely giving out autographs to a crowd of people clad in Trailblazers jerseys. “Fascinating”. Curiosity took over and I tapped a middle aged man next to me in a suit and inquired about what was going on. “It’s the 30th anniversary of when the Trailblazers won the NBA championship”, he told me matter-of-factly. This took me aback. 30 years ago and they’re still celebrating! That’s a town desperate for a party.
Seattle Revisited
Along with Australia, Seattle is a place I’ve been fascinated by since youth, but unlike Australia, I’d already been there. I accompanied my father on a trip when I was nine and about all I can remember involved eating gigantic Sundays while revolving around the top of the Space Needle, visiting the Boeing factory which, along with my infatuation with Legos probably led to my eventual studying of engineering, and buying a chain saw carved totem pole from a local alcoholic artist who carved the wings of the eagle for us while we sat by and watched (though we have no proof, I’m sure he was probably drunk at the time and yielding a chain saw – bad combo). There’s also a picture that survived of me brimming proudly holding aloft a fish which I had caught, so I must have also gone fishing. Anyway, I returned with a love of all things Seattle (which probably contributed to my grunge rock and flannel shirt phase in high school) and a Mariners hat despite the fact that I didn’t much care for baseball. A decade and a half later I was ready to see the city again and see if it met the expectations set by my youth, and in this case, I’m happy to report that it did. As far as American cities go the place seems laid back while still holding some character as a working town. There isn’t a hell of a lot to do, but you get the sense that the residents like it that way.
Seattle Ships
My friend Mike, whom I hadn’t seen since my 5th year high school reunion, picked me up at the train station. Mike had returned after serving in the Army in Iraq and Afghanistan and it was fascinating to hear first hand accounts from someone who’s been there, especially after it becoming increasingly remote in my conscience for last solid 5 months. Mike went from active battle grounds where bullets whizzed around his head to a PR firm in downtown Seattle caulk full of beautiful woman. I asked if that took some adjustment and he countered without missing a beat, “oh yeah”, he said. It was interesting to hear his accounts of readjusting to civilian life in America as I’d started a transition of my own.
The One and Only... The Original
Seattle was great. In my two nights I frequented brew pubs with Mike, had a martini in an old morgue, drank lots of coffee, ate fish at the famous public market, took the hilarious and fascinating “underground tour” of the city they built Seattle on top of, went to a Mariners game which they lost and ate a crumpet. I spent the majority of a day walking around the city going to touristy places like the space needle, the Sci-Fi museum and the science museum, and after standing outside rubbing my chin for about 5 minutes I decided none of them were worth the admission price and moved on. I found the city ripe with diversity, colorful neighborhoods and the feel of a real working town. I was sad to leave after such a short visit but the northern wilds of Canada beckoned.
Spring at the Space Needle
Underground Seattle
Vancouver, eh?
Yeah, yeah Vancouver – a place I’ve heard great things about with its access to the mountains, to the outward islands and with thriving liberal politics and real communities. The city lived up to all the expectations, a beautiful city (when the weather cooperates) with really friendly people. It was interesting to follow a week back in the states with a trip to Canada, were everything’s virtually the same except people have funny accents and the Queen’s still on all the currency (the currency also sports a loon, beavers, hockey players and a Caribou).
Vancouver High Rent District
Kits Pool
In Vancouver I stayed with my buddy Steve whom I’d met way back on my trek in Laos. On first arriving he lent me his bike and I rode around the water’s edge with great views of the city and eventually turned onto the bay where I watched the sun set over the ocean and the many tankers moored in the harbor. The next day Steve and I took a ferry to a nearby island with two bikes and rode around the small community going to a Buddhist retreat with a 1,000 year old tree and climbing a nearby mountain with breathtaking views of the surrounding islands and snow capped mountains which endlessly stretch out from Vancouver’s borders. My last night, Steve took me to a world music concert organized by his friend and part of a performance series called “In the house” so called because they all take place inside people’s living rooms. We sat with the other 20 or so people and listened as the group played away on Indian flutes, an Erhu, Marimba and the Tabla.
BC Ferry
Meditating on Age and Growth
For now, I’ve left the world of the unknown and the foreign, and have returned to my old home of Washington, DC to see what a familiar place looks like through new eyes. Over the next two weeks I plan to catch up with friends and begin to piece together the next stage of my life as I slowly make my way up the coast, through New York City and back to NH.
Sunset Over the Pacific
From San Francisco I would embark on what, ultimately, would be the longest train journey of my travels. It turns out San Francisco is around the middle of California while Portland is in very northern Oregon – who knew? What lies in between? Northern California and the rest of Oregon allegedly, though I couldn’t tell you about them apart from witnessing some beautiful mountain scenery and a lot of pine trees from the moving train.
Beautiful Pacific Northwest from the Train
At the station in San Francisco I befriended an older gentleman from Korea after an exchange of smiles. This was his third time visiting his brother in San Francisco and he’d done some traveling around the states of the packed tour bus variety, but this was his first time venturing out on his own for a trip to Seattle and he was a bit nervous. I shared stories of my travels and helped assure him he was in the right place, helped him find his seat on the train and settle down, even moving seats to be closer to him at his urging. It really wasn’t much effort on my part, but through my travels I’d realized that a little kindness can go a long way. In gratitude the Korean man bought me breakfast (though I wasn’t hungry) and kept bringing me coffee without me offering throughout the trip before I jumped off in Portland.
I arrived in Portland in the evening, dropped my bag at the hostel and set off to see the city. I stopped by the famous Powell’s bookstore – a three story complex of new and used books, travel accessories and a small café. The place was brimming with character and after browsing the extensive racks I was sad to not have room in my bag for a pile of new reading material. Feeling a bit peckish, I then wander to an area I was told had some night life and found a promising Irish pub with live music and delicious Shepard’s pie, which at $10 a serving didn’t quite feel like modest worker’s food, but was delicious none the less.
Portland Park Picnics
On my way back to the hostel I wandered the empty streets (it being a Tuesday night) and found Portland to be a bit of a strange segmented place. The area I was in was brimming with strip clubs and bars, then I’d cross the street and suddenly be distinctly in China town. A few blocks later, through seemingly empty buildings and bland storefronts, the trendy artsy neighborhood begins. This is not too uncommon for an American city, but it amazed me the contrast between the sections with a clear line or dull nothingness in between – there seemed to be no blending of the neighborhoods. After wandering a bit in the ritzy, artsy neighborhood I stumbled across a place which stood out remarkably – the “Low Brow Lounge” and stepped in for a beer. Like the bookstore, the place had remarkable character and a pleasant mix of young people making up its few tables. I sat at the bar and started talking to the bartender about Portland. He told me about the ample music scene, the rapid expansion and growth and lamented the loss of his “old small town Portland”. His worries supported my observations - that Portland’s a small town struggling with its identity and loosing some of its old charm through a rapid expansion. That’s what popularity gets you, I guess. The next day, walking around the city center, down the river and through one of its many parks, my opinion solidified. Maybe my expectations were too high, or my visit was too short, but I couldn’t help but feel disappointed by this city which I’d heard so much about.
Portland Park
In my wanderings though, I observed one of the quaintest and oddest things I’ve seen yet. I rounded a corner downtown to see a small crowd gathering around a tent in a nearby park. I stopped in and looked over the peoples’ shoulders to see what was going on. It was then that I noticed some oh so stereotypically beautiful women – complete with permanent smiles which looked like they’d been ironed on – decked out in sequined red tops and tight black pants. “Interesting”, I thought to myself. With further observation I picked out some older gentleman about 7 feet tall freely giving out autographs to a crowd of people clad in Trailblazers jerseys. “Fascinating”. Curiosity took over and I tapped a middle aged man next to me in a suit and inquired about what was going on. “It’s the 30th anniversary of when the Trailblazers won the NBA championship”, he told me matter-of-factly. This took me aback. 30 years ago and they’re still celebrating! That’s a town desperate for a party.
Seattle Revisited
Along with Australia, Seattle is a place I’ve been fascinated by since youth, but unlike Australia, I’d already been there. I accompanied my father on a trip when I was nine and about all I can remember involved eating gigantic Sundays while revolving around the top of the Space Needle, visiting the Boeing factory which, along with my infatuation with Legos probably led to my eventual studying of engineering, and buying a chain saw carved totem pole from a local alcoholic artist who carved the wings of the eagle for us while we sat by and watched (though we have no proof, I’m sure he was probably drunk at the time and yielding a chain saw – bad combo). There’s also a picture that survived of me brimming proudly holding aloft a fish which I had caught, so I must have also gone fishing. Anyway, I returned with a love of all things Seattle (which probably contributed to my grunge rock and flannel shirt phase in high school) and a Mariners hat despite the fact that I didn’t much care for baseball. A decade and a half later I was ready to see the city again and see if it met the expectations set by my youth, and in this case, I’m happy to report that it did. As far as American cities go the place seems laid back while still holding some character as a working town. There isn’t a hell of a lot to do, but you get the sense that the residents like it that way.
Seattle Ships
My friend Mike, whom I hadn’t seen since my 5th year high school reunion, picked me up at the train station. Mike had returned after serving in the Army in Iraq and Afghanistan and it was fascinating to hear first hand accounts from someone who’s been there, especially after it becoming increasingly remote in my conscience for last solid 5 months. Mike went from active battle grounds where bullets whizzed around his head to a PR firm in downtown Seattle caulk full of beautiful woman. I asked if that took some adjustment and he countered without missing a beat, “oh yeah”, he said. It was interesting to hear his accounts of readjusting to civilian life in America as I’d started a transition of my own.
The One and Only... The Original
Seattle was great. In my two nights I frequented brew pubs with Mike, had a martini in an old morgue, drank lots of coffee, ate fish at the famous public market, took the hilarious and fascinating “underground tour” of the city they built Seattle on top of, went to a Mariners game which they lost and ate a crumpet. I spent the majority of a day walking around the city going to touristy places like the space needle, the Sci-Fi museum and the science museum, and after standing outside rubbing my chin for about 5 minutes I decided none of them were worth the admission price and moved on. I found the city ripe with diversity, colorful neighborhoods and the feel of a real working town. I was sad to leave after such a short visit but the northern wilds of Canada beckoned.
Spring at the Space Needle
Underground Seattle
Vancouver, eh?
Yeah, yeah Vancouver – a place I’ve heard great things about with its access to the mountains, to the outward islands and with thriving liberal politics and real communities. The city lived up to all the expectations, a beautiful city (when the weather cooperates) with really friendly people. It was interesting to follow a week back in the states with a trip to Canada, were everything’s virtually the same except people have funny accents and the Queen’s still on all the currency (the currency also sports a loon, beavers, hockey players and a Caribou).
Vancouver High Rent District
Kits Pool
In Vancouver I stayed with my buddy Steve whom I’d met way back on my trek in Laos. On first arriving he lent me his bike and I rode around the water’s edge with great views of the city and eventually turned onto the bay where I watched the sun set over the ocean and the many tankers moored in the harbor. The next day Steve and I took a ferry to a nearby island with two bikes and rode around the small community going to a Buddhist retreat with a 1,000 year old tree and climbing a nearby mountain with breathtaking views of the surrounding islands and snow capped mountains which endlessly stretch out from Vancouver’s borders. My last night, Steve took me to a world music concert organized by his friend and part of a performance series called “In the house” so called because they all take place inside people’s living rooms. We sat with the other 20 or so people and listened as the group played away on Indian flutes, an Erhu, Marimba and the Tabla.
BC Ferry
Meditating on Age and Growth
For now, I’ve left the world of the unknown and the foreign, and have returned to my old home of Washington, DC to see what a familiar place looks like through new eyes. Over the next two weeks I plan to catch up with friends and begin to piece together the next stage of my life as I slowly make my way up the coast, through New York City and back to NH.
Sunset Over the Pacific
posted by AJH @ 8:03 AM
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