What is there to say about Portland three years later? It is still a very nice place to visit. There are homeless people that literally sleep under Portland's bridges instead of moving on, just to be in that special city, and to approach blogger's girlfriends on the MAX trains, and ask these girlfriends to give them money, and even ask these girlfriends to write a check for $100 when the cash thing doesn't work out.
I spent most of my time at work-related Powerpoints, but the aforementioned girlfriend and Alipete and I all walked around together on Saturday, June 5. We marveled at the local signage:
and the local brews:
and the famous Portland death-defying hairless stuntcats:
I had amazing salmon at Caffe Mingo, and proceeded to seafood the shit out of my vacation, downing fried oysters, sand dabs (flounder, I guess), more salmon, calamari, and shrimp. I also ate pasta at a food cart called Built to Grill, because DUH it's basically named after sweet guitar solos.
I finally got to walk around downtown Portland on the last day, and see Portlandia herself:
That's basically it. I mean, there was one moment during the flight home when I looked over and saw this guy reading an magazine - "What's up with David Duval these days" or some similarly titled article - and I felt sad, because we were flying through a sunny day, beautiful clouds and Big Sky country below us, and this guy's reading a shitty treatment about a has-been golfer because the airplane windows are so tiny, and he's sitting in the aisle seat, and plus we're all spoiled assholes when it comes to flying so we wouldn't be looking at the gorgeous scenery even if we could... anyway, that stung a little.
No comments:
Post a Comment