Streptococcus, the slut and flying fish in Seattle…….

‘Hey baby I hear the blues a callin’……..

There is a smell about Seattle.  A really good smell.  A lovely salty floral smell which seems to continually drift from that remarkable stretch of Puget Sound.

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I was fascinated with this oceanic inlet where on wonderfully clear days, which happily ours were, you could see in the distance the majestic hulking beauty of the Olympic Mountain ranges.  Puget Sound is also the second largest estuary in the USA.  It is not only famous for its salmon runs of Humpback, Coho, Chinook, Sockeye and Dolly Varden but there are also Orcas, harbor seals, porpoise, sturgeons, cods, rays and an abundance of sea birds.  These beautiful waters, dotted with oyster and mussel farms, fishing boats, ferries and sail boats really is a refuge to an amazing marine population.

August through to September is apparently the preferred times to visit Seattle and I would guess, as with most places so far north, the winters would be somewhat challenging but I think anytime would be a perfect time to visit this lovely seaport city.

So how does one spend time in Seattle.  Well I spent mine roaming about, taking photographs, documenting my thoughts, watching the sound and just soaking up the city.  And did you know Bruce Lee’s grave is also in Seattle!  I didn’t until I arrived.

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One place you should include on your ‘to-do-list’ if you ever happen Seattle way and I hope you do, is Pike Place Market.  I really don’t think I would ever tire of this market place.  A blatantly touristy, noisy and crowed yet uniquely charming spot overlooking Elliot Bay.  It is full to bursting with fresh flowers, fresh seafood, artesian breads, full service butchers which means they will also break a bird down for you, fresh eggs including that of tiny quail, $400 per pound rare black truffles, cheeses, seasonal fruit and veg, arts and crafts, restaurants, buskers, baked goods, spices and teas.  Markets always seem to reveal great characters and Pike Place was no different with its mix of eccentric and no-bullshit-taking vendors.

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The sound of these markets is incredible.  The din of chatter, the yelling of the fishmongers, the slap of massive slabs of salmon onto stainless steel filleting tables, the clatter and clamor and commotion has all become part of this markets unique charm along with the famous flying fish.   It’s an old Seattle fishmonger tradition which goes a little like this – the customer selects the fish, the fishmonger then picks up the fish and throws it to another fishmonger for the fish to be weighed, dressed and wrapped.

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There are warning signs for ‘low flying fish’……..

Our most memorable meals of Seattle were at Pike Place.  Bowls of fresh clam chowder were consumed and we devoured fresh oysters by the dozen and drank local beer from big frozen glass mugs at Athenian, the unofficial watering hole for the market workers.  And the oysters were good.  Fresh, briny and smelling of the sea.  And just like a beautiful yet complex Japanese tea ceremony, there is also a bit of an art to consuming these little bivalves which involves a tiny fork, one chew to release the cream, savor then swallow.  Perfect!

Something I very happily discovered at these markets too was that unmistakable yet comforting smell of hot cinnamon donuts.  ‘Hot Cinnamon Sugar Baby Donuts’ to be precise which were pure little parcels of absolute joy and you can buy them by the dozen.   And I did!

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Now for some urban grunge.   And I don’t mean the somber subculture of guitar bands with their angst-filled lyrics and low strong riffs that came out of Seattle in the mid 80’s.  I’m talking about the Market Theatre Gum Wall!   

Not for the squeamish nor faint of heart this Jackson Pollack inspired wall is just south of ‘Rachel’, the markets big brass pig, and under Pike Place on Post Alley.  No doubt this is one the strepiest and germiest tourist attractions around, with some areas of this 15 feet high and 50 feet wide wall being several centimeters thick with chewy, but when in Rome……..

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I don’t think you will ever find this kind of tourist attraction in Singapore……..

Seattleites are also renown for their caffeine addiction with Starbucks having been founded here.  I do however, prefer to fondly remember Seattle for the bands it produced such as Pearl Jam and Nirvana and for the guitar legend Jimi Hendrix rather than Starbucks.  Sorry guys, its not me, its you with the coffee!   I just prefer the little independent hardcore coffee-nerd places and trust me, there are plenty of great ones around Seattle and its neighborhood communities.

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Anyway, the Starbucks at Pike Place isn’t the first of this chain but it is the oldest store.  And how’s this, I noticed on the stores logo’s that the curvaceous and lovely mermaid originally had her boobs on show – I really am all about the detail – however she appears to have undergone a little ‘make-under’ over the years.

The good folk of Seattle also seem to have quite a sense of humor.  Like the naming of their South Lake Union Trolley  – The SLUT.   It is very much an electric tram, part of the streetcar line, which runs from the South Lake Union neighborhood to Downtown Seattle.  This line may not take you anywhere really special but the souvenir t-shirts are quite fun.  Sense of amusement required though 🙂

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As I write this blog post, I am combing back through my notebooks looking at my thoughts jotted down while in Seattle and on this return trip home.  Most of it is grief stricken and uncertain.  I guess I was quite a newcomer to such deceit and no doubt I found it difficult to navigate those achingly treacherous days.  I may have written words down but really, there were no words……….

Perhaps though, and this is largely due to the fact much has revealed itself and in that slow unfurling, I now see this entire situation in a far better light.  I guess there is nothing more liberating than grabbing something by the balls, shaking it up, turning it on its head and seeing just what actually falls out.

What is certain though is from grief eventually comes joy of opportunity.  They say revenge is sweet but I believe a little happiness, a little more kindness and even a little more compassion to be far sweeter.  I know too where I have come from, where I have been and just like ‘The Slut’ I certainly know where I am headed but I still  ‘don’t know what to do with those tossed salads and scrambled eggs.  They’re callin again’……..

Part II of Seattle coming soon……..xx

Footnote:  Lyrics (in bold italics) from the Frasier theme tune, ‘Tossed salad and scrambled eggs’ by Bruce Miller.

 

And that’s the beauty of this city……

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‘Our first glimpse of San Francisco – just a little foggy’

It is winter here in America.  It really should be all mittens and scarf weather however it is not at present.  That is not to say it isn’t chilly but the weather here in San Francisco really is beautiful. Blue skies and a winter day warmed by the Californian sun.

Day and night, San Francisco is a wonderful place.  A city of infinite possibility. There is just so much to do and see and eat and experience. I really have developed a deep affection for this city with its gentle enduring fog, its steep hills, galleries, painted ladies, exquisitely beautiful architecture, murals, light filled spaces, mission district, cable cars and spectacular coast line. It really is stunning.    For all its stunning beauty though, San Francisco does have a couple of drawbacks (I’m just saying).  I have listed them so you can see what I mean:

1. It is illegal to beat clean a rug outside of your home
2. It is illegal to walk an elephant down Market Street unless it is on a leash
3. And number three, which happens to be my personal favourite – it is illegal to use ‘used underwear’ to wipe your windshield clean!

I guess if you can live with those small legalities then San Francisco could definitely be the place for you.

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‘One of the many murals dotted about in the city’

Today we sat huddled on ferry on the way to Sausalito.  On the trip across the bay we got to marvel at one of the most iconic landmarks in the world: The Golden Gate Bridge. It is a pretty amazing structure with its 1.7 mile span and to think it was built in 1937. I always thought ‘golden gate’ was a reference to the colour of the vaulting carroty orange Art Deco arches but it actually refers to the beautiful reflection of the sun off the bay.  This bridge really is  breathtaking.

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‘The Golden Gate Bridge’

We have also ventured out to the Napa Valley which is just over an hour’s drive (almost two by public transport) north of San Francisco. It’s the wine, food and arts capital. It is a very beautiful area and after sampling many a good wine from this beautiful region I seriously needed a napa!

On to food:  for many years now, and probably longer than I care to remember, my day has always started with a biscuit and a cup of leaf tea then I have breakfast which consists of more tea and a filling meal.  Well, there is change!   ‘Miss Routine’ (or as a dear friend of mine calls me ‘Little Miss OCD’) starts her day now with complete difference……seriously, I’m living on the edge :)!  My day begins with a cuban coffee – the guy who served me my first cuban said ‘baby, once you have one of these you’ll never go back’ and he was right.   And this morning my day began with a ‘cuban’ and ‘The Rebel Within’.  Which is, you question? Well I’ll tell you.

‘The Rebel Within’ is a softly boiled farm egg entirely (and I have to say mysteriously because I really don’t know how they did it) encased in a perfectly cooked asiago cheese, green onion and sausage muffin cake. It was plate lickingly good. I don’t know if ‘lickingly’ is a word but the muffin was seriously good! It actually topped the ‘dynamo donut’ that I had the day prior.  That little delicacy was a cake donut topped with crispy bacon and sautéed in bacon juice – can you believe I actually wrote bacon juice because I thought it sounded healthier than bacon fat! And this cakey little donut was served with sautéed apples (they also received the bacon juice treatment) and maple glaze. Need I say more.

We have eaten some really great food in San Francisco – a burger at a diner, freshly cooked crab and shrimp down at the wharfs, cured meats, hand-made pasta in Little Italy, pot stickers and pho in Chinatown and have had some good beers and better conversations in ‘dugout’ bars dotted about the city.  Rudyard Kipling once said “San Francisco has only one drawback. Tis hard to leave” and no truer words have been spoken.  We leave San Francisco first thing tomorrow morning (Thurs) after spending seven great days here.

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‘Shrimp with a Margona Cocktail.  That is correct.  That is actually a Corona beer in a Margaritia!’

Having said all that, I have also opted for the healthier food alternative too – the ‘farmers markets’. And these markets were seriously impressive! I just love a farmers market and have been known to literally drive hours to go to a really good one back in Australia. It’s a little community of energy and passion and produce. For some reason I especially love a market in winter. I don’t really know why but perhaps the markets seem less bustling, less crowded and it’s the time of year you don’t just get the summer staple of salad greens and tomatoes. Winter markets offer up what I consider the ‘underdogs’ of the culinary world (and who doesn’t love an underdog). This is the time of year you will find your beets, your nips, your broad beans, your swedes, your nettles, your kales and your brussels. All of the nice old fashioned (the purists call them heritage) winter vegies. At these markets, held at the iconic ferry building at the foot of Market Street, I stocked up on a couple of things portable to the state of Georgia. Home-made preserves, jams and pickles. Had I not, I would have been Mrs Hubbard with a very bare cupboard when arriving in Georgia.

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Now, by nature I am a walker. Walking is my preferred mode of transport. I call it the ‘foot falcon’ – the way you get around without a car. I love walking in cities or in any destination I find myself in.   It really is the very best way to see and experience a place.  And I like to be an independent traveller. No plan!  Just a trusty local black and white map folded in the back pocket of my jeans, my camera in the other and some money stuffed somewhere about my person.  There are no booked tours, no coach tours to sight-see with 40 other tourist crammed onto a bus followed by a boring buffet lunch, definitely no staying in my room watching cable and no sleeping in late until 2:30 in the afternoon for me.  I am up and walking because when you walk you find little nooks and crannies and a wonderful insight that the tourist doesn’t generally see. It’s a great experience of the world beyond your own little door.  My husband Steven and I don’t, at times, like to do the same things.   We are two very different people with very different tastes and ideals.  Quite often he will do his thing and I will very happily go and do mine.  Mine usually involves walking and it was whilst having a bit of a skulk about that I found a couple of little gems.

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1.  The unique and beautiful architecture of the city buildings and the steep streets with their amazingly pretty houses.

2.  A great little second hand book store: and there was nothing more comforting than to be sitting in that lovely little store with a really good cuban (coffee – not the man), the smell of old dog-eared pages and watching San Francisco pass by. After a reasonable rummage I also mananged to find a couple of books to buy.  And you know, there is still plenty of room in my port for the books which fit snugly along-side the fab vintage jumpsuit I purchased earlier in the day at an obscure little store. And by obscure I mean I could have purchased a pair of vintage rattle snake skin riding boots together with matching earrings along with a plate of warmed scones with jam and clotted cream!

3.    A grungy little deli/diner on Geary Street: where they serve up tongue, brisket, corned beef, lox etc all on rye breads. I had one of the tastiest bowls of chicken broth and matzo balls followed by brisket on rye. YUM!

And that’s the beauty of this city. You just never know what you will find.

Next stop…..Atlanta Georgia.