Author - Grant
Based In - Seattle, Washington
Photos - http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157618595716152/
There is no doubt that we are seeing the Pacific North West at its very finest because when the sun comes out to play, so does its residents . Thanks to a climate not too dissimilar to Northern England, on the rare occasion that the sun does make an appearance, everybody makes a huge deal of it with every grain of sand at the beach covered with greased up bodies and every blade of grass in the parks crammed with frisbee flinging fathers. So when I look back at the photos of our time in Seattle, there aren’t a huge number of monumental things that I can drone on at length about because the majority our time there was spent wandering around soaking up the thrilling ambiance of this outstanding city.
Of course, as various promotional posters told us, “no trip to Seattle is complete without a ride up the Space Needle”. What they really mean is “I know our city is incredible for mindless meandering but that doesn’t result in dollars in the city’s coffers so please pay $16 each for a 30 second ride in an elevator to get exactly the same view as you can get from the top of any of the seven hills that surround Seattle...please”. Yes, it’s a lovely view as the distant snow-capped mountains and the city’s tallest buildings sandwich the idyllic island strewn bay but the price tag is still a bit steep. Luckily we managed to visit at the same time as North America’s largest folk festival was in full swing around the base of the needle, giving us the opportunity to gawp at a plethora of crazily dressed hippies and to tap our toes to the many bands. Still, my favourite attraction was a chap walking round wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and carrying a cardboard sign declaring “punch me in the stomach as hard as you like for $5”. The economy is hitting real hard in these here parts...
On more than one occasion we heard that the Olympic Sculpture Park was well worth a visit but I was not particularly keen, still reeling somewhat from the sting of the Space Needle. When I learnt it was free, however, all my protestations vanished and hence we found ourselves doing something uncharacteristicly cultural. It wasn’t long, though, before I remembered why this sort of activity is rarely on the schedule as I felt the familiar hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention, the blood progress from simmering to boiling and my voice getting louder and louder as I came face to face with a bunch of 25 foot tall, rusting metal tubes that were supposed to symbolise “spaces or volumes created by the slightest opposition to their masses or penetrated by vectors, traversed by momentum...abstractions which resemble no living things except by their manner of reacting”. I know they say that art is subjective - well this sort of art isn’t. It’s bollocks and that isn’t my opinion, it’s just the truth. It does explain, however, the signs warning that dogs may not defecate on the surrounding lawns - clearly they are worried that someone might pickle it and charge 50 grand for it.
Another sign that we chose the perfect time to visit this region was the abundance of Farmer’s Markets on offer. Whilst our lack of kitchen means that we can rarely take advantage of their incredible fresh offerings, we still sadistically visited three during our time in Seattle as I find the opportunity to gaze longingly on their wares just too much to resist. Kate also seems well up for it and it has taken me a whopping seven months to work out that is because nearly every farmer’s market in the land contains a creperie where she can get her fix of banana and nutella. The pick of the bunch had to be the famous Pike Place Market which was bought in 1965 by a guy called Yokoyama who changed the management practice by making it an incredibly fun place to work and declaring it to be world famous. As he says, “We took a stand that we were going to be world famous. We just said it and it became so”. I like this idea of self-fulfilling prophecies which is why I describe myself as a Calvin Kline model in the lonely hearts ads. Still, the result of his initiatives is a market of mighty fine produce that is served with real showmanship. This is best exemplified by the fishmongers who chant orders in unison and perform a fish throwing routine that Cirque Du Soleil would be proud of. The dweeb cook inside me couldn’t help but think that the 15 foot tosses must somehow bruise the fish but then I remembered that it’s all in the name of fun and that Le Bernadin are unlikely to be buying from here.
On the subject of food, we once again treated ourselves shockingly well with some mighty fine seafood at Ivar’s (I’m not sure what will stick in my mind the longest - the huge, juicy fried oysters or the freaky man named Stacey who we shared a table with), surprisingly high quality steaks at The Keg (where a prime rib filled me up for an entire 24 hours) and a cracking diner across the river in Fremont called Roxy’s (where the green eggs and ham might be the best brunch eggs I’ve had the pleasure of getting the other side of). But the most surprising meal was the best pizza of my life in Piecora’s which sat in the heart of Capitol Hill, Seattle’s overtly gay-friendly district (it didn’t require a particularly strong gaydar to work this out thanks to the abundance of tight shorts and punk drag nuns).
So as I have hopefully portrayed, we had a blast in Seattle and it definitely goes down as one of my very favourite cities that we have visited but the sun definitely helped as apparently this place has the highest suicide rate in the country during the months when the sun sets at 4pm and the rain forecast is measured in months rather than hours. Being English, all that does is confirm exactly why pubs have roofs but I guess that’s what they mean about being two nations divided by a common language.
Next stop is our second foray into Canada on this trip as we’re heading directly north to Vancouver in British Columbia. Kate will be here for the full week whilst I’m only hanging around for three days before heading back to the UK for the FA Cup Final. After that, a combination of our excitement and impatience means that we’re going to cut the rest of the trip short and make a bee-line for Santa Barbara to begin some real house-hunting. What this means for Eating America is that we’ve got one remaining blog from Vancouver and then it’s all going to be over as I’m doubting there’s going to be much of interest to report as we spend 3 or 4 days crunching out 1250 miles on the southbou
1 comment:
Oh Nooooooooooooooooo
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