The Northwest's Never Never Land

A couple of weeks ago we were planning a business trip to Seattle when I offhandedly suggested that we should go to Victoria, British Columbia afterward. We had an unused train ticket from Whitefish, Montana to Vancouver, Washington that needed to be either used or charged backed to our card so we were able to rationalize a low cost vacation without spending much extra. I had no idea that this very simply put together plan would be one of our favorite trips that we have been on together.

We headed up to Seattle on the train early Wednesday morning on the Amtrak Cascades which is our favorite train because of it travels 80+ MPH in some places (I used my GPS.) It was a cold clear morning and the leaves in most of the northwest had already turned yellow and orange. All of this color at 80 miles per hour made the train ride to Seattle feel like the beginning of the old Dr. Who program.

We actually arrived in Seattle a little before our scheduled time so Nicole and I walked from the station, to downtown, to Pike's Place Market, to Belltown, and finally to the Space Needle.

In order to be "mobile" we had packed 4 nights worth of clothes in our respective backpacks. In the planning phase this seemed completely rational. Around the Belltown portion of our trip Nicole was in complete agony. She had injured her back (most likely from ping pong) a week earlier (but after we had made arrangements for the trip) and had thought that it was in shape to carry a pack. I could tell by her face that the whole "backpacking around Seattle and Victoria" wasn't realistic.

We sat down at Zeek's Pizza and discussed scenarios from going home (right then) to pushing through with pain killers and buying a huge pack for me to carry everything in. After a long discussion, Nicole surrendered her mind (pain does that) and asked me to make the best choice. I sat there staring into space for a very long time. After pushing around ideas I called a cab and we rode up to that evenings destination near Green Lake.

That first evening (our business portion of the trip) was with the organizers of Club Rust and managers of Rancho La Paloma. (I wrote back in July about how that experience affected me and gave me the desire to be a part of something like this.) We enjoyed an incredible dinner with them and great conversation. We had the most wonderful time with their family and can't wait to see them again.

The alarm was very unwelcome at 5:30am. It took me nearly two minutes to find my cell phone (alarm) and make it stop beeping. It was of course pitch black outside and the house was completely silent. We had to catch the bus to the Ferry before 6:15am so Nicole shuffled to the shower and I repacked our bags. We tried as quietly as possible to not wake anyone as we walked through the complete darkness of a home we barely knew. I'm sure everyone woke up as I walked awkwardly up the stairs without any lights carrying two giant backpacks. Nicole's back had reached its peak in pain the night before and in the morning felt somewhat better. I still decided to carry both packs for now, despite Nicole's protests.

Once out on the street we walked a couple of blocks to a gas station to get change for the bus. I had forgotten how many people in Seattle commute at such an early hour. Even at the bus stop there were a handful of people wearing business attire for work and it was barely after 6am.

We boarded the bus and I was once in awe of the Seattle phenomenon of a completely full bus (people standing too) yet there was absolutely no talking. I could only hear the sound of the bus brakes and the occasional "ding" informing the operator that a stop has been requested. It reminded me of when I was riding the same bus system years ago:

(by the way...below is a flashback story so if you want to skip down to the current event, read past the italics.)

I had a morning routine. Living alone on Queen Anne made me very regimented. Every workday I would get up, turn on the TV (I worked in TV so I had to see what was going on in the world as it was going to be what my day was focused on.) After absorbing the headlines, I would head to the shower, get dressed and walk out the door.

I liked to leave a little early in the morning (didn't have to be to work until 8am) so I could get in a long walk to the Starbucks (I think it was on Boston and Queen Anne Ave.) I loved walking there for several reasons. First was for the mocha. This was my kick-start for the high energy environment that I was headed to (a newsroom.) Second was (and this is sorta sad) that it was the first place every day where I would actually talk to another person. I'm guessing that for many of those who are single and live in the city, the first thing you hear from another person at the beginning of the day is "Welcome to Starbucks, can I take your order?"

The third reason I walked up to this location was because the bus route originated (i.e. first stop.). This meant I could guarantee a seat anywhere on the bus. After much thought and many bus rides I determined that the best seat was behind the back door on the right-hand side of the bus. From this perch, I could see everyone in front of me and because there is a Plexiglas shield separating the doorway and that elevated position, I could see reflections behind me. I could see all.

Typically I would sit in this seat, drink my Starbucks, listen to music, and read (all at the same time.) From time to time I would remove my headphones just to listen to a quiet, full bus. Again, full bus...people standing in the aisle...no sound, just engine noise.

Until the morning I changed all of that--if only for a moment. On that particular day, I rode the bus sitting at my typical perch, listening to Cirrus and reading "Fight Club" for the tenth time. It was a warmer day because I remember feeling the sun on my arm and wearing short sleeves.

I was halfway to my destination and fully involved with my book when the hair on my right arm kept twitching like a piece of lint was caught in it. With my coffee in my left hand and my headphones in my ears I looked to my right and saw the biggest, hairiest spider I had ever seen in my life, headed up my arm toward the open part of my sleeve.

My reaction was what you would expect of any twenty-something former Marine. I screamed like a little girl. Not only did I scream, but I screamed until I could hear myself over the music in my headphones. The coffee in my left hand flew up and mocha coated the Plexiglas in front of me. I brushed the hairy spider off my arm and it fell to the floor in front of me. I stomped and stomped HARD until I was convinced that I had killed it by observing the bug juices smeared on the floor.

At this point I was oblivious to anything else around me and my headphones were still in my ears. I regained my composure and looked around the bus. Everyone was staring at me like I was crazy. To them I had screamed and stomped the floor for no apparent reason. I tried to explain it to the one person who maintained eye contact with me, but he just shook his head.

After a couple of minutes I could see other people giggling to each other about my reaction--I laughed pretty hard at myself, too. I tried to imagine what it must have looked like to all the other business commuters on that dead silent bus.

Starting the next day I took an earlier bus and did so for the rest of my time in Seattle.

Now...back to our story . . .

(just after 6am on the bus going to the ferry terminal)

We hopped off the bus near the Space Needle and walked the remaining 1/2 mile to Pier 69 where we were to catch the Victoria Clipper. It was just before 7am and the sun was still down. It felt like we were the only people on the waterfront. Once inside the terminal we got in line, passed through security and got on board.

The Victoria Clipper is a relatively high speed, fully enclosed passenger ferry that takes people from Seattle to Victoria, British Columbia in about 2 and a half hours. The ferry we were on had two levels with a view from nearly every seat. There were also food and beverages served on board so Nicole and I were able to wake up with a fresh cup of coffee.

About an hour after leaving Seattle the sun broke through the clouds and we were able to see the many islands and the shoreline of the Olympic Peninsula. For the time remaining on the boat I watched for any signs of a breaching killer whale while Nicole spread out over 3 seats and was swayed asleep by the gentle rocking of the boat.

I had never been to Victoria and to be honest, had always been turned off by what I had heard. "Oh the gardens and flowers are so beautiful," or "You must have high tea at the Empress Hotel". The more I heard about it, the more it sounded like something that would never appeal to me.

The boat slowed and eventually we made our way through Outer Victoria Harbor (or should I say Harbour?) As we entered the Inner Harbour I felt like we were arriving on the shores of some European country. The unique, modern architecture of the condos and homes were a refreshing change from the typical style that line the streets of the Pearl District in downtown Portland. Mixed in with new was the old...Victorian old. The Empress Hotel is on the elbow of the Inner Harbour and as we approached the still waters reflected the red ivy that covered the building. I could tell by looking that Victoria wasn't just a city of flowers and tea; it was a cosmopolitan town with international influence.

We hardly took two steps out of Canadian Customs before I pulled my camera out and started taking pictures of everything. On each trip I try to learn a little more about my camera and photography, and I think that on this trip it paid off. Because the sun was so low in the sky (even at midday) the lighting was perfect for pictures. The majority of the pictures I took were a little on the dark side, but that touch made the photos even more "European." (When was the last time you saw a bright picture of London, Paris, or Amsterdam?)

We walked to our hostel (near Chinatown) and checked our packs in (we couldn't check in until 3pm) and headed back to town to find a bite to eat. Nicole had done research before our trip and found a very good (and cheap) sushi restaurant, Sushi Plus. For those of you that need sushi to be served in a neo-uber-space age-sterile-swanky-pretentious-environment, Sushi Plus is not for you. It was a very small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant where you can see all of the food being prepared. The nigiri wasn't dyed which made the whole experience seem a lot more legitimate. It was obviously a local choice because it was packed with business people (not tourists...except us.)

We visited the many restaurants, stores, and sights of the area-all of them wonderful. I do want to list the restaurants and our hostel as it may be useful for those who need some travel ideas:

Our accommodations:

Ocean Island Backpackers Inn
http://www.oceanisland.com/
1-888-888-4180
791 Pandora Avenue
Victoria, British Columbia
Canada

Cons: If you want to go to sleep before 1am...bring earplugs.

Pros: Clean rooms, great functional furniture (think IKEA), infinite hot water, little cafe/bar on premises, travel information galore, and international traveler energy.

- - -

Places We Ate:

Sushi Plus
Irish Times
Demitasse
Green Cuisine
Siam Thai
The Mint
Mirage Coffee

The next day we walked all over Victoria. We went to hat shops, vegan restaurants (I drank water), many clothing stores and walked around the harbour.

I could spend all day taking pictures. We stood out on a rocky point in the cold, snapping photos of ferries, planes, and boats that seemed to go in and out of the harbor non-stop.

The planes were fun to watch because (on this day) they were flying in from the west, dropping down near the bridge, then suddenly banking to the right just before touching down on the water. It is definitely worth watching if you are ever in Victoria.

That evening (Friday night) Nicole and I hit the town...to the best of our ability. We had incredible Thai food and I am convinced that I ate an entire red onion (my dish was ground chicken, cilantro, red onion, and a little bit of lemon or lime juice).

After we finished we decided to go to a pub for a drink and desert. The whole town was packed with locals (mostly students from University of Victoria) so it was a little hard to find a place that wasn't standing room only. We eventually found a nice, down-tempo bar known as The Mint. Admittedly, we stood out like sore thumbs in our sensible clothing amongst the swankiest of swanky. That didn't stop me from ordering a Phillips Chocolate Porter and a piece of chocolate cake. Nicole ordered a fresh raspberry pureed mint julep. Though we didn't stay there long, we enjoyed sitting at the bar, looking around at the artwork and watching people. The bartenders were very nice and hospitable. The Mint is a place where you can hang out, listen to live music (that night there was a DJ) and "be cool" for hours on end.

The next day we took the public bus to Butchart Gardens. We had procrastinated this trip because the weather the day before was so gloomy. Saturday ended up being the best day because it was sunny and gorgeous outside.

The bus ride from Victoria was just under 45 minutes but that was because it was public transit. There are buses that go straight there, but they cost more than we were willing to shell out. It's also nice to ride the public bus because you meet some interesting people...but I'll get to that in a little bit.

The gardens are spectacular (even though there are far fewer flowers than spring and summer.) Nicole and I fought over the camera as we walked around the fifty acre park. The gardens are split into several sections such as a Japaneese garden, Rose garden, Chinese garden, etc. At the bottom of this entry is a link to more pictures of our trip and of the gardens.

Our plan was to go to a nearby Cajun restaurant that served alligator meat, but after walking through the gardens, I talked Nicole out of it because of time considerations (we had to be back to the ferry by 5pm.) After my hotdog at the visitor center, we hopped back onto the public transit bus to town.

As I mentioned, public transportation can help travelers meet interesting people. Because the bus was completely packed Nicole and I were forced to stand with many others in the aisle. About halfway through the trip I turned to see Nicole talking with someone at the very back of the bus. The girl she was talking to had a white face, black hair, and fake blood running from her mouth to her neck. Nicole asked if the girl was on her way to a Halloween party. The girl explained that the makeup was for something completely different.

Apparently in towns across the world there are random "flash mob" events called....wait for it...wait for it...Zombie Walks. The way it works is people go to a website (such as this one zombiewalk.com) and find out when and where a zombie walk will be held. At the time and place the zombie walk will be held people show up in full zombie costumes and makeup. Once assembled, they depart from the meeting location and walk around acting like zombies to another destination. The mob will go through malls, town squares, and even clog intersections all while holding their arms out in front of them and screaming "more brains" (you may need to do your zombie research to understand.)

After quizzing this girl, Nicole found out that the Zombie Walk was at 4 pm at a square close to our hostel. Excited for the photo opportunity, we got off at our stop, grabbed a quick bite to eat and went to the square and waited for them to gather.

I could not believe the number of people that showed up for this event. There were zombies everywhere. From little children to seniors, there were people who had spent hours on makeup. Nicole and I felt like press photographers as we ran around snapping photos at the very willing subjects.

Just before 4pm the mob came to life and started zombie-ing across the square and into town. I have to admit it was very eerie to have hundreds of people walk toward you (all in character) and scream "we want to eat brains!" In a few minutes the mob of nearly a thousand people filtered into the city and out of sight.

Here is a handful of the zombie pictures we took: http://picasaweb.google.com/NicoleandJeff/ZombiesInVictoria#

On our trip to catch the ferry (half an hour later) we ran into the mob again. This time they were far more dispersed and taking advantage of the uneasiness that it caused tourists on the street. Zombies were chasing people, walking up to cars at stoplights, and posing at every photo opportunity. We found ourselves captivated...so much so that we had to rush to catch our ferry.

On the ferry Nicole faded in and out of sleep, while I sat with a recently retired couple who were on their last leg of an around-the-world trip. They had gone from Chicago to Poland to India to Thailand to South Korea to Canada (Vancouver then Victoria) and were going to Seattle before returning to Illinois. Apparently they have been doing these 3 week "around the world" trips for the last 15 years. Each time they change it up a bit and visit different countries. The husband and I talked almost the entire trip about cameras, GPS devices, and the many places they have been.

We arrived in Seattle near 9pm and we had no idea where we were going to stay. You think we would have learned after THIS incident.

We walked up to the hostel near Pike's Place Market and checked to see if they had any private rooms. The guy at the front desk told us that they didn't but that we should check up the street at a place called the Moore Hotel. I barely wanted to stay at a hostel and the idea of staying in a cheap hotel nearby made me uneasy. At this point, Nicole and I talked about splurging on a really nice hotel.

Nevertheless, we walked the three or four blocks up the street to check out the Moore Hotel. Before walking in I told Nicole "let's ask to SEE the room before doing this." I was a little jaded from our Lynnwood experience a couple of months earlier.

At the front desk was Bob. Bob was about our age, energetic, clean cut yet Seattle-esque. He told us that the rooms were just over 60 bucks (not including tax) and that some had shared bathrooms. We decided to check out a room with its own bathroom. The room we checked out was clean, simple and seemed like a bargain so Nicole and I went back down and told him that we would take it (or one like it.)

Nicole asked Bob point-blank what the catch was. The entire lobby was marble and the building was vintage and clean. The rooms were very nice, very clean, and quiet, but the price seemed too good to be true. We had just called the Westin to check their rates (just a few blocks away) and they wanted 280 bucks a night. Nicole asked without any hesitation, "Is this place haunted?" Bob explained that the Moore Hotel was left to the wife and daughters of the prior owner and that the family isn't interested in turning the place into a swanky hotel. With that, Bob checked us into our room (mumbling something about an upgrade) and we took the ancient, tiny elevator to the fifth floor.

After walking down the longest, quietest hallway, we arrived at our room. Nicole gasped when she opened the door. Bob had REALLY upgraded us. We had expected to see a bed and a window like the first room we checked. Instead, it was a dining area (with a table for 8) a living room, a kitchen, and in the distance a glass door to the bedroom. It was huge. The windows were gigantic. There was a couch and two love seats, a refrigerator, stove top, and a flat screen TV. The bedroom had a gigantic bed and a view of the Sound (between buildings.) I was shocked at what we got for such a great price.

We went back downstairs to get suggestions for late night food and to thank Bob for the upgrade. He named off a few places to grab a late night snack and we decided to go with his suggestion for an Italian restaurant called La Vita E Bella in Belltown.

The food there was incredible! I actually found myself staring at my food trying to figure out how to prolong my meal (I got a mushroom ravioli) so it would never end. Our server was very helpful and we ended up talking with her for the majority of the meal. I highly recommend this place if you are ever in Seattle.

The next morning we walked to the train station, discussing our trip the whole time. We swung by a great coffee joint just before boarding the train, called Zeitgeist Coffee. Nicole even made the claim that they made the best rice latte she has ever had.

Eventually we boarded our train bound for Portland excited for our next adventure...whatever it may be.

Here are more photos from the trip: http://picasaweb.google.com/NicoleandJeff/VictoriaTrip#

Intermission

We are still here.

Nicole and I have been reading and researching as much as possible in preparation for our next step. Unfortunately, the state of the economic world has made things seem like it may be more challenging. I make the mistake (daily) of looking at the gloom and doom that is being constantly reported and can't help but get sucked in. It's also fair to say that I really don't know how this "situation" will affect our future. Needless to say, I'm not too worried. . .we have worked really hard to break the chains that connect us to it.

I've been wondering if the movie "Fight Club" is being rented more often right now. I used to watch that movie nearly everyday before I went to work at a restaurant on NW 23rd in Portland. The year was 1999, everybody was drinking Starbucks, talking on cell phones, and spending money on knickknacks for their condos:

~ ~ ~

The NW Portland Years (1999-2000)
I hated living in that part of Portland, yet I had worked really hard to find this "Shangri la" when I had been living in Bend. Don't get me wrong, Bend was great at the time. I ran everyday and mountain biked every other day but Bend at the time lacked the cosmopolitan experience for someone my age (25) . . . so I set my sights on Northwest Portland.

Northwest Portland is more than just a geographical reference to a part of Portland, it's more of a neighborhood. In the late 1990s it was an up and coming shopping district with boutique shops, outdoor dining, and coffee shops with parking spots for your dot-com Lamborghini.

I initially moved to NW 21st with a friend who also thought it would be fun to move from the small town of Bend to the giant city of Portland. He and I had already been roommates for a while in Central Oregon so we knew that we could get along. After only a few months in Portland, he bought a dog and moved back to Bend (then joined the Air Force and has been in for 8 years.)

Eventually it was only me in a two bedroom apartment overlooking The Gypsy (restaurant.) The apartment was the cheapest thing I could find in that neighborhood and it showed from time to time. An example of how "affordable" it was became evident when one morning I woke up to find that the walls of my bathroom were ballooning. It looked like giant moles had burrowed down the wall from the ceiling and were making their way to the floor. I lived on the 3rd floor of a 4 story apartment building so I knew that trouble was coming from above. The curious boy in me decided to push with my finger on these raised portions of the wall. The paint immediately gave way and a steady stream of warm soapy water sprayed all over my bathroom. Apparently the pipes above my bathroom had broken just below their bathtub.

What was funny about that experience is that in the days following, the management worked to fix it at a snails pace. At one point (or should I say the breaking point) the maintenance guy cut a hole in my ceiling (my upstairs neighbor's floor) right in front of their toilet. I walked in there and looked up to only see a pair of crumpled Levi jeans covering the a 5 inch by 5 inch hole. Minutes later there was a flush and the jeans disappeared and I could see my neighbor's bathroom ceiling. I was on the phone within minutes demanding resolution to this problem and used the whole situation as leverage for the best apartment in the building (at the same rent.) I moved to the fourth floor the very next day.

So now that I had the coolest apartment, in the hippest part of town, one would think I would have been happy. It didn't work that way at all. Because living in that part of town everyone would put on their best outfit to shop or "be cool" on a restaurant patio, I felt like I needed to look my best even when I would walk to the store for bread. Being single at the time compounded this environmental insecurity.

I eventually learned to tune out most of the neighborhood. I would listen to headphones if I was studying at a coffee shop, go on long drives out of the city, and I also kept a bag of water balloons next to my bed.

As mentioned earlier, I lived right next to a restaurant called The Gypsy. This place (at the time) was not really a destination restaurant, more of a "Let's meet at The Gypsy before we go dancing" or "Let's all go to the Gypsy now that we have been dancing." Get the picture?

I had no AC and in the summer everyone in that apartment had to leave their window open to stay cool. It was wonderful to be on the top floor with my windows open because the breeze kept it just right. The only problem was that The Gypsy down below tended to attract young drunk males who typically would take fights out to the sidewalk...at 2 in the morning. Because my sleep was valuable to me, I became very irritated with the constant scuffles that occurred just 4 stories below my window. The solution: water balloons.

To be clear, I had a couple of tactical advantages to my location.

1. I lived on the 4th floor
2. I lived above a huge tree (the tree top was around the 3rd floor)
3. The street lights were below my position
4. I lived in a keypad secured building
5. Everyone had their window open with the lights off
6. My door had double locks
7. They were drunk
8. I was sober

Nothing changes the attitude of two drunk alpha males like a water balloon to the head. Typically I would lob the balloon (this helped mask the point of origin) on to the head of the more aggressive of the two. After impact I would hide for a moment or two and listen to the reaction of the targets. Surprisingly it was often the same reaction. They would instantly befriend each other in the name of finding whoever threw the water balloon. "You go that way around the block and I will go this way and we'll beat the crap out of him." This response happened most of the time. Two would-be enemies would team up to fight a new bad guy. Fortunately for me, no one ever had the sense to look up to the apartments...thank goodness for alcohol.

This annoyance along with many others made Northwest Portland a tough place for me to be happy. Near the end I made the best of it. My form of entertainment was going to the Starbucks on the corner of 23rd and Hoyt and people watching. It is still a great place to watch people to this day.

One day just for fun outside of that Starbucks I pretended to tie my shoe on the sidewalk and instead affixed a quarter to the sidewalk with superglue. I stood on it for a couple minutes before going back inside. I sat at the bar inside Starbucks facing the window for over an hour watching people try to pry that quarter from the sidewalk. I watched as older women would pull out tools from their purse such as a metal nail file trying to get it. I had no idea a glob of glue and a quarter could provide so much entertainment.

I eventually moved far away from that part of town and look back at those years as a "growing experience." Years later I would learn that the love of my life, my wife Nicole, worked two blocks away from that apartment during the same time. I find myself constantly wondering how close we came to each other without meeting. I know that my whole perspective would have been different if I had met her then.

~ ~ ~

I will try to write more little historical "episodes" when we have gaps between our adventures. Hopefully this will help provide insight for the inspiration of our journey.

Lastly, Nicole and I might be close to another adventure...but we have to keep it under wraps for now.