adios oregon

April 20, 2014 No Comments

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Portland, Oregon

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Tomorrow we take our first internal flight, for some reason it feels like a big deal to fly perhaps the whole getting to the airport early and going through all the hoopla of taking your shoes and jacket off as you get a full body scan has something to do with it! The train has been way for chill and even though it is no cheaper, but takes far longer I prefer it, I enjoy watching the world zoom by away from roads and tarmac.So with the flight looming we had a quiet day. We are in a different airbnb which is decorated so awesomely quirky I had to include photos, the ad read “Must love cat”, which is a hoot. Our main aim for the day was just to return our bikes, but on the way we caught sight of a vintage shop in a bus! Only in Portland! The two fabulous dames who owned the vintage store and the food van next door were ready to break their day up with a chat to two Aussie travelers, and it was rather a shame we had to scoot because it was all rather fun.

Now I’m not going to lie to you, after we got the bikes back we definitely indulged in some chocolate pie. Then full to the brim we wandered around the arts district until a bus wound us homeward, to cat and chats with our hosts, Misha and Cade, and their neighbours around a backyard fire until the rain drove us to bed. Typical Portland.

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Lodekka
A vintage shop on a double decker bus? Too cool. Go chat to Erin and her food van neighbour over a refreshing class of that delicious homemade lemonade whose secret ingredient is kept under mental lock and key. Behind the van is a “meat locker” where you can buy a special treat for that deserving dog in your life.

Random Order
I only recently discovered with much embarrassment that there is no such thing s a savoury pie in America. But these beauties are so good, and fantastic to share. While we ate a girl wrote a thesis beside us and at another table a girl with patterns shaved into her hair was sketched by another.

“Do you have any vegetarian pies?
“umm…(glancing at the display case of cream covered pies) I’m not sure apart from no meat what makes a vegetarian pie…”

Alberta Eyecare
For some reason i had it in my head that i would like timber sunglasses, but couldn’t imagine i could find them anywhere except on etsy, ah i shouldn’t have under estimated Portland. the first optometrist i set foot into had the very pair i wanted and made by someone down the street!

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Travel

Quintessential Americana

April 18, 2014 No Comments

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Portland, Oregon

Today, according to Dylan, we witnessed the quintessential American experience, which I think is a little unfair on America. The incident didn’t happen until later, but the Americaness of a morning tea of donuts is unarguably very American. The lines outside Voodoo Donuts were rather perplexing to us, and we had avoided it until now, but there is a store just out of town which is comparatively empty. We swung our bikes in and were overwhelmed with the pinkness of it all, from ceilings down to boxes. We bypassed the signature “cock and balls” and “bacon maple bar” for a Voodoo doll and an Oreo doughnut. They were just donuts, yummy of course, but no BlueStar. Box checked we headed downtown and back up that hill to the Japanese Garden.

The cherry blossom petals were falling like snow on moss lawns and with bamboo water features setting the mood we felt very relaxed. All which was to be undone as we made our way down the hill for the Experience. As we reached the bottom of the descent the cop car in front of us suddenly went into action mode screeching across the intersection to join another, door flung wide as shields where the policemen crouched with guns drawn. We starred dumb, a man was standing before them just across the street from us, a bulge in his pockets. As he stood there shaking his head in the negative to the cops demands for him to put his hands up, we quickly scooted to a safe distance. There were a whole bunch of schoolkids laughing and taking photos with their eye phones, we couldn’t believe they saw this as entertainment. Two more police cars screamed in as pepperspray was shot at the aggressor’s feet. Then before we had a second think bang bang bang, the man barely flinched so we hoped they were just rubber bullets, then ban bang bang, he finally, but excruciatingly slowly, folded himself to the ground. A fire engine and ambulance joined the melee. He was strapped in and wheeled away. We were relieved the scene hadn’t ended in tragedy, we had to credit the Portland police for waiting until backup with non lethal weapons arrived.

Voodoo Doughnuts
Go more for novelty factor than for a gourmet delight. Some have cereal on top, there are vegan options and all have wild names. We’re told the purple grape one is nice

Japanese Gardens
Nice relaxing spot at the top of the hill with a view of Portland. $10 entry worth it if you love manicured topiary, intricate bamboo fences and the sound of running water

We wheeled our bikes for several blocks before we even thought to get back on, it had been surreal and we were grateful of our gun laws back home where you can only own a gun if you have a genuine reason. It had been surprising to see such an event happen in Portland where we had met the most people disgusted with their countries gun laws. Later when we met up with Lonnie again we looked up the incident and discovered the man was indeed shot with a beanbag gun and was hospitalised more for mental illness than injury. It turns out he had a homemade fake gun in his pocket and police were alerted to the seen because he had been punching cars, as Lonnie said something that is not acceptable in the USA, where car is king. Not too long ago a whole bunch of hospitals for the mentally ill had been shut in Portland and it really had worsened a homeless problem that was already dire. Once again we thought fondly of our home where the government and charities support those at risk. Australia’s not perfect, but at least the majority of people we speak to there don’t say they need a gun to protect them from their own government. A more disturbing fact 50% pf the people we have spoken to actually believe that their government not only knew about 9/11, but orchestrated it. How could you live somewhere where you believed your government could do such a thing?

Lonnie helped us remember the greatness of America, showing us more hospitality. Driving us to an amazing Thai/Vietnamese restaurant, a whiskey bar and then to watch a blues band play.

Pok Pok
Delicious street style cuisine with thai and Vietnamese flavours. The Hoi Thawt as our favourite, a savoury crepe with mussels. the wait is over 30 minutes but you can spend that time in a whiskey bar across the street where they let you know when your table is ready.

Travel

Fishing Adventure

April 13, 2014 No Comments

“Are you ready for an adventure?” Cliff emerged from the shadows into the glow from the car lights. Now that’s how you begin a fishing trip! 6am and the city was still sleeping as we glided through the silence and the dark. Watching the world slowly wake added to our anticipation, Cliff seemed as excited as we were, three kids on an expedition to the Oregon coast. We reached the urban boundary, houses became fields and then forest. We curved along Highway 6, Cliff pointing out landslides, the delicacy of this ecosystem becoming apparent as we passed some heavy machinery logging trees. We weaved along and I began to doze in the back to the soothingly soft voices in the front.

Then we were there. I was handed waders and fishing shoes which fit perfectly, what else would you expect, the day was already written. I starred down the steep ramp and then was handed a rope, reassured that a one armed-man had done the job easily a few weeks before. They heaved, the boat creaked and then it went slowly sailing down the ramp and gently skimmed the water at the bottom.

As Cliff rowed us along the river, slipping into guide mode, I realised that this was a much nicer way to go fishing. (Once I vocalised the thought Cliff apologised to Dylan with a laugh) Pink nymphs at the end of line we floated down, stopping at the best spots, waiting for a nibble.

My bobber dipped, I starred, I pulled, it resurfaced, maybe it just caressed the river bed. We began to haul anchor, and Cliff suggested I send it out one more time, then it dipped again, then the line began to fly. “My float went under!” Everyone started yelling at once, it was a fiesty one, it zoomed around, my rod bending under the effort, it fought and fought, once it surfaced right near the boat long enough for us to see it was a hatchery fish and a keeper, but ultimately it won the battle for its life courageously, yanking the hook clear off the line nymph and all when it sensed its moment as I passed the rod to Cliff to bring it in. Cliff was chastened, I ecstatic with adrenalin, Dylan happy to see there were Steelhead trout to be caught, possibly glad that he had a chance to be first to pull one in being a seasoned fisherman and I a first timer.

A patch of blue in the cloudy sky teased as we rounded the bend, moss covered trees arching branches and then Dylan’s float went under. His fish made for the rapids, the cheeky thing, but Dylan was a step ahead leaping for the bank and bringing him in. Cliff swooped the net and there he was, 11 pounds of hatchery beauty, nothing like Dylan has ever seen in the Grey River trickle back home. He was almost more astonished than proud at first. The best thing of all is that hatchery fish weaken the wild fish population when they breed with them so it wasn’t just a good meal, but a boon for the wild ecosystem of Wilson River. As Cliff explained, once upon a time they thought you could just breed fish in captivity and release them into the wild river, but they just weren’t as strong as the ones born free, and when they spawned their progeny were weak too. now it is thought better to capture wild eggs fertilise them by hand and release them into the rivers before their hatch, just to ensure a high hatch rate. Ah, the fiddling humans have to do when they begin meddling with nature, it would be amusing if it didn’t so often go horrible so wrong (I’m talking about you cane toad).

We did some wadding, Cliff allowed himself some flyfishing and the boots on my feet began to fall apart to add to the excitement of the day. Cliff with his surgical expertise tried tying them on with rope, the currant cleverly untied his knots, Dylan had a go and they were in a pile around my feet within the half hour. I made a rather hilarious with the foam flapping with every step, clown like strides to compensate, then I lost the foam entirely only for the sole to begin to unglue. By the end of the day they had a rather lovely streamlined look but were doomed for the great black plastic bag in the sky.

We reached the end of the final run, but decided there was time for just one more go so we drove back upstream and sent the boat swooshing on down again. We passed some old mates in a boat, I took the time to enjoy the scenery and Dylan hooked another trout. This one had a saltwater hitchhiker clinging to its scales, it hadn’t been here for long. When we finally disembarked a whole bunch of tourists crowded around our cooler to marvel at our catch, taking photos perhaps to claim as their own.

Then to top off a perfect day Cliff invited us home for a homecooked meal of barbecued trout which tasted all the better for being so fresh and so free. Sally also made us a delicious farro sidedish and an entre of cheese and some of the best bread we’d had in America. and not so secretly at all a highlight was their border collie Ranger who I got to give extra special attention to as he was recovering from surgery, I piled on all the love and pats that I had stored from missing our own border collie at home. Owls hooted as we left for home, so grateful to Cliff and Sally for gifting us this amazing day, perhaps the happiest of our whole trip.

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Travel

where we are now

April 12, 2014 No Comments

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portland, oregon

We planned on visiting the Japanese Gardens but it was a grey old day and my legs weren’t up to revisiting that hill so we just had a quiet one, letting ourselves be still for a while. So after a visit to a bike shop and securing some fishing licenses for the next day’s adventure we just spent the day planning the cycling adventure across Europe that had begun hatching in our minds since facing the wide expanses of America, where you are tied to your car as if it was an umbilical cord.

Our Airbnb host’s name is SaraHope and for those who now us, you’ll be glad to hear we are being looked after in our travels by people like her. Perpetually scatterbrained we had neglected to book more than two nights and of course when our plans to go camping fell through due to Dylan still being on the tail end if his cold and our surprise invitation, of course someone else booked it up. SaraHope went out of her way, organising her housemate Minka to stay over at her boyfriends so we could use her room and then two days later moving us back into our old one. The only shame in this whole scenario is that Minka’s hilarious little gentleman mutt called Giovanni also had to leave. Can anyone resist saying that name with an OT Italian accent? If so, you are far stronger willed than these two simple souls.

Our room came adorned with giant faux leaves and flowers above the bed, and because SaraHope couldn’t be there to welcome us when we arrived she left us a handwritten card! Her boyfriend Sapphire was there to greet us on our first morning, ah poor Sapphire, who left after ecstatic dance to run dance/martial arts workshops in Australia, neglecting for the secondtime to get a working VISA and travelling with a one-way ticket. Alarm bells sounded as he emerged off his flight and after a lightening quick interview where they looked sat his website banned him from the country for 3 years and frog marched him within 24 hours back onto a flight to Portland. Yikes isn’t that your far whenever you arrive in a country for the first time? But in most cases it’s irrational.

Now to prepare for our fishing expedition, of course it’s midnight and we have to rise at 5! It is so exciting to take a break from the city!