Capitol Hill architecture

After my banking fiasco yesterday, I came home, ate lunch, relaxed, as I was completely wiped from getting sucked once again into the evil vortex known as West Seattle the day before, but around 2:30pm headed out for a short trip to visit the neighborhood just east and north of me, known apparently as the Stevens area of Capitol Hill. 

My building is at the intersection of E Harrison and 12th Ave east, and if you head east and then north a few blocks, which is uphill from here, you will begin to hit an area which is positively chock full of older, richer two storey housing stock.  I'd driven down this road a few days back, over the weekend, but these narrow streets were jammed with cars parked on both sides (for some inexplicable reason they allow that - it becomes so narrow that only one car can fit down the middle of the road, so if anyone is coming the other direction, one of you has to find a spot - if you can! - to pull over to get the fuck out of the other guy's way), hence me going during the daytime, when presumably one of the wealthy breadwinners would be at whatever their version of 'work' is.

Which was exactly the case - the streets were now half empty of parked cars, so I drove to this area, which is adjacent to Volunteer Park, pulled over and parked, and then strolled for a few blocks down 16th.

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I've done some architectural research just now - praise god for the internets - and found out that the style house that is so prevalent in this area is called by a name I'd never heard before:  the Seattle Box Craftsman.  I've also seen it described once just now as a "Four Square Craftsman" which I think is more fitting, because you do typically picture a Craftsman home as what it's otherwise known as, a bungalow, which is usually one and a half storeys, and which are normally small and sweet and quaint, and not the generous two story four square-ish, Hipped Roof Colonial-like box houses that are in this neighborhood.  But whatever - the prevailing opinion seems to be the former - Seattle Box Craftsman, so I'll go with that.


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Like all Craftsman houses, these from what I've seen just now were built between 1900 and 1930-ish, but it appears that this neighborhood in particular was developed closer to the 1900 end.  I just read a stat, in fact, saying that less than 1% of Seattle's housing stock was built before 1900, which provides me once and for all with the answer as to exactly why this favorite style of mine just happens to be so common here - because the freaking place was being developed exactly at the time that this style was prevalent. 

Hooray!! 


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Here, I just found this, which is so intensely cool I could poop my pants:

Some undated Seattle housing plans, and as you can see, the cost of building this place, including a cement basement and cement flooring (!) was a whopping $2,400.  Not a small sum circa 1900 by any means, but still !!!

Okay, and here are the houses I saw yesterday.  Check them out vs the above blueprint thing!  And may I say I'm absolutely crazy about those jutting box-window things.  I can't believe these fantastic historic gems sit just blocks from where I am right now. 

(Yes, this is how much I am a lunatic - architecture excites me like a dog.)

Again - bear with me - check these photos out against the blueprint above!  It's so cool!

AAHHHHH!!  Isn't that exciting??  Seriously!  A direct link to history - that you can walk around a neighborhood for free and find yourself firmly inside your grandmother's, or great grandmother's time.  Magic.


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Here are some other astonishingly beautiful houses along this same street, of varying styles, but most with that fantastic overhanging roof thing.  This first one, in large part I'm sure because of that color, and that gorgeous, inviting porch, is among my very favorites:

And speaking of porches, how about this one, tucked deep inside that steeply pitched roof?

And these two different, equally stunning yellow numbers:

And Christ, I could have a heart attack over this one:

That crazy three storey turret!  That joined set of small arched windows along the middle!  The jutting box window next to it!  The fucking exposed rafters under that overhanging roof!

And the below - that double, miniature wannabe turret on either end.   That bay window.   All the fucking windows.   Phew.

And here is some detail I focused in on, which was particularly fantastic, and very common in this neighborhood:

How about that aqua???

And this side window box thing, below?

The old tree stock in the area was just gorgeous - this area defines 'tree lined streets', and the natural greenery and landscaping were stunning, also.  A huge bonus was that it was entirely low key and didn't appear at all to be planned by teams of gardeners as you so often find in pricy neighborhoods.  This was typical:

And as you can see in that photo, the houses here were all right on top of each other, and back to back - none of these folks have large yards or lots. 


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So weird, this Capitol Hill place.  There is certainly a homeless element, and apparently a gay element; there are the rock clubs down in the Pike/Pine corridor, and plenty of businesses, cafes, restaurants, burger and pizza joints, a community college, the whole rocker/pierced/purple-haired/tatooed set, both 48 acre Volunteer Park and Lake View Cemetery, and then you have this area with a collection, cheek by jowl, of the most magnificent historic homes anywhere, and, it turns out, of one certain regional style, or sect, perhaps, of one particular genre I'd never even heard of, inside of one of my favorite styles, ever - Craftsman. 

Too effing cool.


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Lastly, after visiting this area, I drove a bit further north, over to the corner of E Galer and 17th, and popped into Volunteer Park Cafe, for some tea, and a slice of homemade chocolate bundt cake.

It was around 3pm or so, and the place was mostly empty except for some kids I would estimate to be around 12 or 13 years old, sitting inside sipping drinks - clearly having stopped here after school and before heading home.  They still had books and such with them.  Imagine growing up in a place this gorgeous, I mean, seriously.  Of course, they don't know it, nor probably care, but I think later on they will, once they leave home, etc.  They'll realize how fucking spoiled and lucky they were. 

Hate to say it, but the service in the cafe could have been friendlier, honestly, and the bundt cake was a bit dry, but I was too much on an architectural high to care.  And maybe the guy was just tired from both breakfast and lunch service. 

I sat outside, facing the building, and took the above pic -  there were pretty little old fashioned green iron chairs and a small square rustic looking wooden table on the sidewalk, and that's where I ate my bundt cake. 

The interior to this place was absolutely stunning, just fantastic, and I had to stop myself from snapping several photos of it, only because the place was small and I didn't want people thinking I was taking photos of them, but you can see from the shot above that the windows were enormous, and the one above the door opened outward/sideways like that, which is just so neat.  The seating inside seemed original - rustic unpainted wood everywhere, and a glass display case, that I'm guessing was from the 1910's or 20's, behind which there were cookies and cakes, and the like.

I noticed that the cakes in the rear were sitting on what were vintage coffee tins - no joke - they actually looked original vintage, and I commented on how gorgeous the place was, and that I loved the effect of the elevated cakes on the old tins ... and the guy barely reacted.  Maybe he doesn't see it, or again, maybe he was exhausted, or maybe he hates his job.  Dunno.  But I frankly can't imagine living in a world in which you are blind to stuff like that.  Stuff that is truly breathtaking and to me, calming and stilling and even awe-ing, in it's history and beauty and in the story that it tells.  Even if you don't know the frigging story - because you don't need to.  You truly just need eyes. 

Adventures in Banking

Yesterday morning heard a ding on my phone and went to it.  A voicemail message, and call history showing that an "unknown" number had called me.  I checked the message, the first  half of which was cut off, but it from from my bank telling me something about my debit card, and to call the phone number on the back of my card.

I pulled the card - this is something I use constantly - the phone number was completely worn off.  I then went online to Bank of America's site, and 'chatted' with someone - as I know from experience you have to jump through hoops to get anyone on the phone, and this person told me that something called a "mass compromise event" (believe it or not) had occurred, and that my debit card had been shut down, and that a new card was being mailed to me, which I will receive "in 5 to 7 business days". 

I asked what the fucking hell at "mass compromise event" was and was told in some other 1984-ish jargon, that it was some sort of breach somewhere along the way involving my card, or potentially my card, and some other people's.  This doesn't surprise me as it happened once before - maybe 2 or 3 yrs ago, and also because I'm traveling about using the debit card in two different states at dozens of businesses, airlines, rental car agencies, etc.  It was bound to happen.  And it's not like any money was removed from my account, or anything along those lines.  I recall asking about this when I went to Paris last fall, and they said I would never be responsible for any unauthorized charges (didn't use my debit or credit card at all when in France, it turns out, as we had more than enough euros.)

I asked the person, or rather, typed to them, where did the "compromise" occur, and I know from experience that they pretend they don't know and won't tell you - which is complete bullshit.  Of course they know.  They only refuse to disclose the name of the vendor or business to protect themselves, as the business will undoubtedly have grounds to sue them for something or other, if they do, so I asked what state the "event" happened in - it has to be either Washington or California, and I was again told, they had no clue.  Unbelievable.

Anyway, I explained that the mailing of a card to my home does nothing for me, as I'm 4000 miles from home and won't be there for another several days, anyway, and I need money in the meantime to eat and get around.  The person said, after at first apologizing for the "inconvenience" of the situation, and after putting me on "hold" and going to ask someone what they could offer me, that I should go to the nearest BoA branch (Eastlake) and they would provide me with a temporary debit card.

So on a day I intended to rest, I got into the car and had the wonderful app called "Waze" take me to the bank, which is just a few miles from here, bordering what I think is Lake Union.  There I was helped by a youngish guy who'd purposedly shaven his head completely bald, and wore a goatee, in other words, the standard offensive male grooming that somehow passes as entirely acceptable in this day n age, named Will.  He had me fill something out, checked my IDs, and then said, oh, where did you open your account?  What state?

It's this obssession Bank of America has - you get asked it all the time - in which state did you open your account?  I mean, why they fuck should they care? 

When I told him Maine, he said, "oh,", and groaned a bit, and began apologizing that in fact, he was not going to be able to issue me a temporary debit card after all, because the east coast BoA's system does not coordinate with the west coast's BoA system.  I said, HUH?  It's the same bank, and the same country, honey!  He apologized for the "inconvenience".

I explained that the bank had told me to come to this branch and I would be given a replacement debit card.  He apologized again, and said that that person must not have known I'd opened up the account on the east coast. 

WTF???

I asked what my options were, and at first he said, well, you can take cash out right now, if you want.  I explained I didn't want to be walking around with cash.  I said, what else have you got?

He then stopped and said, hmm, let me look into this ... oh ya, you can open up another checking account, and we can give you a temporary debit card linked to that new account, and you can transfer funds from your existing account into it, online. 

So that is what we did.  He kept my old debit card, presumably to be ground up, and gave me a new red, west coast-friendly jobber.

Totally crazy, but again, I was not at all surprised, given how interlinked we all are.  I'd taken the precaution before I left home, of moving all of my money other than a small amount into my savings account, which is not linked to my debit card, so that if anything happened, it would be protected.

Maybe carrying cash with you everywhere is a good idea. 

So, I'm tired ...

After five weeks "on the road" (hesitate to use that phrase, as I've been stationed in three cities, in very comfy, private, generously appointment apartments over these past five weeks - it's not like I'm moving place to place each night staying in dives) ...  and I'm definitely feeling it.  Maybe it's partly my age, maybe it's just general wear and tear from near-constant stomping around/sightseeing, as not only am I running out of steam generally, to the point where I've felt, a couple of times now, almost borderline ill, but yesterday and today, for the first time, the bottoms of my feet are aching, and it's scaring me to death, as I do now, and will forever fear a recurrence of the dreaded plantar fasciitis condition I had, in both feet, back in 2004, which lasted for a year and a half.  Believe me, the last place you want to be injured, of any place on the body, is the bottoms of your feet, let alone have that injury go on, despite visiting three (!) podiatrists who could apparently do nothing for it, (as they did nothing), for over a year.  The only thing I dread more than the return of this condition is getting the type of severe, debilitating bronchitis that I had when I turned 30, which caused me, the lifelong non-smoker, to hack continuously to the point of pulling muscles in my back, put me out of work for four months, and resulted in what felt like pleurisy in my lungs (inflammation in the lung lining).  (The fact that it somehow wasn't pneumonia makes me in total awe of what pneumonia must be like.)

So, here's to hoping my feet recover.  Please, god.  Even thought I don't actually believe in your existence, please don't be this vindictive and cruel.  It's not the kind of price I want, or perhaps naively, expected to pay for a mid-life adventure trip.  I will very well pay in other ways - "career"-wise, financially, etc., but please.

Hence, today, other than a brief trip to the post office to mail stuff home so I don't have to drag around a 100lb suitcase behind me in a few days, and other than the brief trip I took just now, just north of here to visit 16th and 17th avenues to admire the truly stunning architecture (which is when I learned that the feet ache from yesterday was continuing, despite a very ginger walk of only a block or so,) I've been home (despite a nice day) and will be tomorrow, as well.  I'm just wiped, frankly.

It's not something I pictured, being pooped like this, being drained, having such low reserves of energy, because, goddamnit, I am not a couch potato.  In my 'normal' life, I walk, good and hard, every single day - normally, minimally a full hour and at a good, hard pace, or else why bother?  And also, it's the only thing that makes it worth it - ie a stroll does nothing for me, physically.  So I hadn't imagined that I'd end up needing to rent a car, in large part due to rapidly waning energy/exhaustion, but oh well.  It ain't like I'm 21.  Still, I'm disappointed, but what can you do?  My body is sending me messages, and feet, you, in particular, I'm listening to, so please, please respond in kind, and come back to me, unharmed. 

Deal?

I have a visitor ... (+ my 2nd West Seattle visit)

Friday morning May 25th as noted I was hanging in West Seattle.  I was sitting in the Easy Street Records garage/front window eating my breakfast burrito when my phone rang.  I picked it up, and to my complete shock, Maryann was on the line saying she might fly out here after all.

I've pestered her quite a few times the last few months about coming out for a visit in either city, and due to a lack of vacation time + the cost of the flights she was finding ($1200) she and I had ruled it out, which was a shame, as how often do I have entire big flats like this to myself, and for this long?  At any rate, when she called, she said not only were they letting everyone out early at her work (3pm), but the flight rates had dropped, and so she might just do frickin do this.  Wow!  Cool as it was, I suggested she think about it before acting, as the fact was, she'd be hugely exhausted on both ends of this long weekend, without a day off to recover before going back to work on Tuesday (tomorrow).  Flying all the way across the country takes a day to get over, in my experience, so it's not normally something I'd ever consider doing for a weekend trip, long weekend, or no. 

I went back to my breakfast, and didn't receive a follow up call.  I half expected that she would eventually realize it simply wasn't doable/advisable, and call to say so ... but no call.

Then at some point shortly thereafter I checked my email and there was one from her with the title "Be there tonite." 

Holy shit!  I was now gonna have company, which is so cool, but also I was now gonna be a host!  To someone who had never been to Seattle, and to someone who didn't particularly think it was a place she would like all that much, so ...

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Her flight took off around 6pm, Boston time, and she landed around 9:30 or 10pm here, about an hour late.  I got a really good space at the airport so we were able to exit quickly and easily, and traffic was minimal.  She wasn't too pooped (that's the difference between her and I.  I loathe flying more than maybe anything in the world; she doesn't, so that undoubtedly has something to do with it.)

Anyway, I slept on the pull out couch, and should mention that I found no sheets or extra bedding anywhere on the property, so called the property owner, Ian, earlier in the day.  He was kind enough to stop what he was doing and drop by and was incredibly nice, and helpful, offering tips on where to bring her, in addition to bringing by the bedding.  Turns out he's from New Zealand for god's sake.  I asked how on earth he ended up here, and it turns out he worked for the New Zealand travel bureau and got transferred to LA so lived there for 8 years before he got sick of it and moved to Seattle.  He said it's the most similar to New Zealand of anywhere in the States, and I gather he's an outdoorsy type, so this place suited him perfectly.

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The next day Maryann and I had breakfast at my big kitchen table here.  It was very weird for both of us that she was here - totally surreal.  I've grown quite used now to being on my own, and have had this place to myself for a week.  She was having that 'where the hell am I?/how the hell did I get here?' feeling that I know I have the first day I find myself someplace on a trip, but it was especially acute for both of us, seeing as her coming here was a total last minute, spontaneous decision.

The timing could not have been more perfect weather-wise, as Saturday the 26th was by far the warmest, and totally sunniest day of my entire visit here.  Blue skies from sun up to sun down - not something I've seen even once yet.  It was positively hot at points, in fact, ie it felt close to 80 in the sun, which is pretty warm for Seattle, but I think it was just the strength of the west coast sun, which is way more intense than it is back east.

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So I wanted to show her two places:  Pike Place Market, ie just the sign, as to me the market is not really worth it at all, and was guaranteed on this gorgeous holiday weekend to be jam-packed; and my beloved Space Needle.  After that it was up for grabs.

We did hit wall to wall tourists at Pike Place, saw the sign, and got the fucking hell out of there after taking a peak at the market itself.  It's sort of like Faneuil Hall, though I think a tad less t-shirt-shop-y.  Anyway, I still love the sign, which is historic, and especially cool at night, but oh well, we were there in the day.

As you can see, the freaking sky was crazy-blue, and the place, again, was jam-packed. 


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Next we hit the Space Needle, after manuevering through the worst in-town traffic I've seen so far, due to the Northwest Folklife Festival, Bumpershoot, and the opening this week of the Dale Chihuly's glass art museum thing ...

(Yes, that yellow & red tree thing is entirely made of glass.)

... which are all within the Seattle Center complex, which is where the Space Needle is.  Unfortunately Denny Way, which leads here, is the main east-west road here, or at least, I didn't wanna chance any other roads, as you have to cross Interstate 5 and there are only certain roads that do so when you're going east-west.  (My flat here is on the east side of the city, while Seattle Center is in Queen Anne, which is on the west.)

We managed to finally get through the backup, and then of course could not find a parking space, so finally coughed up the I think ten bucks to park in a garage, and here it was.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7eE1GXx67oM


The above was Maryann's idea - a pretty hilarious video of her casually walking into the camera shot as I film the Space Needle - which we sent off to Frankie and Renee, who had no idea she had decided to take off to Seattle, and it totally worked - this was actually how they found out.

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Afterward, I showed Maryann Kerry Park up in Queen Anne hill, due to the kick arse views

And by then we were pooped, and came back to the pad to relax, then hit Broadway here in Capitol Hill, a bit north of here where I am, to have lunch at Deluxe Bar & Grill

 

Which had an outdoor cafe, but due to the seats out ther being taken, we sat just inside, by a mostly open front window/door.  It was excellent, as was the service, and we were, happily for me, surrounded on all sides by pretty gayboy couples

and their small (usually set of) dogs.  There were like, dozens of teacup sized chihuahuas, in fact.  It's my one complaint about Capitol Hill (aside from the steepness of the hills, considering how physically drained I am these days) ie that it's supposed to be the gay part of town, but there basically has been zero evidence of this.  I miss being surrounded, as I was in Castro.

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Sunday we visited a neighborhood the landlord of this property had circled on the rental car map, which turned out to be Madison Park, northeast of here, and it was absolutely lovely.  What a great find - I'd never been here nor would I have bothered had he not suggested it.

Lots of lovely architecture, small cafes and a small old independent grocery store, all overlooking Lake Washington, and with a beach (though I'm not entirely clear on who would swim in Seattle, though people do in Maine, where even in July, the water's icy.)

We ate lunch at McGilvray's Irish pub, and had a super nice waiter who told us about the towns in the area.  He asked us where we were from, and said he loved Boston.  At one point when discussing Seattle and what to see, he said the city is basically a collection of neighborhoods - which is so true, and exactly my opinion, as well.  It's what I think it has in common with both Boston and San Fran.  All three are geographically smaller as far as 'big' cities go, and hence walkable for the most part, and with good public transit.

Anyway, the guy really couldn't have been nicer.  His coworker, who also works for Microsoft, he said, (wonder how many people around here do), recommended a sushi place we later had dinner at. 

So, we really dug the vibe of this end of town.  It was really sweet, and featured an absolutely enormous and gorgeous public park called the Washington Park Arboretum.  The menu at the pub had the history of the neighborhood, all in one paragraph.  Turns out the original settler in the mid 1800's owned something like 400 acres in this area, and cut a swath from downtown straight through it, apparently because it went from salt water (Puget Sound, I think) to fresh water (the lake).  He named the area after President James Madison, and once he eventually allowed development on the land (1880s - his family still owned all the land til then), he wanted only cottages put up, hence the 'Park' being added to 'Madison'.  Madison Street diagonally intersects the city, almost a la Market Street in San Fran, and cuts right through this neighborhood, ending at the lake.

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Afterwards, as far as I can recall (I am pooped!) we relaxed at the flat again, then made our way eventually to Capitol Hill to the sushi place the girl recommended, Momiji, which was top notch excellent.

We ordered too damned much sushi, in fact, and made the rare move of a sushi doggie bag (which I consumed today for lunch, hee).

Afterwards, Maryann wanted something to read on the plane and I was so particularly pleased to show her Elliott Bay Books and to have the staff there be unbelievable helpful and nice, with one employee sort of bending over backwards to walk Maryann around and quiz her about what she likes, and make suggestions.  So cool.  Thanks, guys.

The awesomest thing for me personally, because I'm such a freaking Dan Dork and can't goddamn help myself, was wandering over to the LGBT section to check again on that nice 'staff recommendation' writeup for his It Gets Better book ... only to find a new/additional 'staff recommendation' thing right next to it that wasn't there when I was here a few days ago, which as a Dan-obsessive these days, fucking made me want to shriek and whoop and hop around.

There, on the left - "Where are Dan's other books?"  Here is the store directing it's customers to them, in case they don't know about them.  I've been in loads of bookstores on this trip, in three different major cities, and I don't recall seeing this before, though I could be wrong - maybe this is standard; I don't know, but either way ... wow.  The offices of the newspaper Dan's the editor of, The Stranger, are actually right in this neighborhood, and I just think it's so intensely cool and nice to see a hometown guy being supported like this, when it could easily have been a case of  the locals maybe resenting or disliking, as I think often happens when somebody local becomes nationally semi-famous. 

So, hip, hip, hooray for Elliott Bay!!  Wee!


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One of the coolest and maybe the most Seattle-moment of this entire trip was when we were driving by this rock club up the block called Neumo's.  We actually drove by it both nights Maryann was here, once on our way to Cupcake Royale (had to bring her there, and yay, she totally dug the chocolate coconut bunny), and once to Elliott Bay.

First time we drove by, it was maybe 6pm and the music was blaring and the (definite) tattooed/pierced rock crowd was spilled all over the sidewalk.

Actually both nights it was like this, and we were never there after 7pm, which is so odd.  Since when do hard rock bands play during the daytime ?

The first night when we drove by, suddenly there was a fight amongs the crowd on the sidewalk.  I saw tatooed long haired people going at it, and I said to Maryann, 'oh my god, two girls are fighting', but she looked and said no, it was two guys.  Silly me, here in grunge-town, assuming because of the hair, that it had been girls ... 

It was just a sort of hilarious and perfect embodiment of the stereotype of what you'd find in Seattle -the rocker crowd, the blaring music, and a fist fight. 


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So the botton line is ... ta da!  Maryann really dug Seattle.  This is amazing, because she has long joked about the grunge people, and the mellow people, and that she wouldn't be able to stand the place, but like I've been telling her, Seattle is awesome, and totally Boston-like - high compliment -  only it's got steep fucking hills, which kind of sucks, but is also part of it's charm and beauty (cuz, like in San Fran, with fantastically steep hills come fantastic views.)


She left this morning, and so it was mission accomplished.  She had a really cool time, the weather was perfect, we touched on a few neat places and she came away really digging it.  Hooray.

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Just wanna mention I had a bad night's sleep last night - the new person who moved in in the adjacent apartment made a sound about every 90 seconds that resembled a pool cue breaking up a bunch of eight balls, which went on at 90 second intervals til about midnite, and then I couldn't fall asleep for some reason until about 2am, yet still woke up at 5:15.   Dang.   So I intended actually to come back to the flat after dropping Maryann off this morning at the airport, and go back to sleep, but damn ... it was Memorial Day and so no traffic, and that West Seattle is on the way back, and that town gets under yer skin ... so I ended up hanging out there from about 7:30am til around 2pm.   Crazy, considering how drained I am and how much my feet were absolutely aching by the end.

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I first visited amazing Lincoln Park, which juts straight out into the Puget Sound on the island's west side, and I have to say I was sort of mesmerized by the place and the lovely charming ferry going back and forth to Vashon Island.  

For some reason the beach ...

... even smelled good, and I walked happily, a long, long way up and down the paved walkway alongside it. 


It turns out there is normally a public pool here, called Colman Pool, which was roped off and being renovated.  Presumably it's heated.   Unfortunately when I was there, it was chilly and slightly sprinkly and certainly had dark clouds; no hint of what was to come in a few hours - sunshine!

Afterwards, I hit the town for breakfast (and to juice up my Iphone), then went a bit nuts taking pictures of the fucking CRAFTSMANS.  I took about a hundred pictures, I think.  Fucking place has that sweet little downtown, a 24 hour QFC grocery store I stumbled upon, a PCC organic grocery, a Cupcake Royale, as well as the place I had breakfast at (instead of Easy Street, as it had lines) called Sugar Rush (super nice woman working there - and lovely cupcakes, too) - where I had a ham and broccoli quiche and rested my aching damned feet.  The town also has that evil antique mall which makes you buy things, Easy Street, loads of water and skyline views, AND it's got the most kick arse collection of this favorite architectural style of mine that despite my feet, I could not stop myself from pulling over and heading up yet another block and snapping photos of.  Evil, evil place.

Three times as I was walking around I stopped and got flyers for places that were for sale - the ones that provide info/photos/price that are at the base of the 'for sale' sign.  The first one was over $550k, and the other two were over $350k.  I just checked and it says the area's median price is $359,950, and average price as of March last year was $450k, which I guess I'm surprised and disappointed at, seeing as this is hardly a rich area - it's totally middle class, or appears as such, and seeing as there is something called a recession going on, caused by something called the real estate crash.  Yikes - have to wonder what prices were here before the freaking crash. 

Oh well.  I supposed any place with employers like Microsoft, Boeing, Amazon.com (btw we kept seeing box trucks around town for Amazon grocery delivery) as well as the headquarters for Starbucks, which then in the 90's becomes super uber hip-town to the point where movies (Sleepless In Seattle, et al.,) tv shows (Twin Peaks), and from which a genuine, and genuinely massive rock music phenomenom busts out (so huge it actually impacts fashion) ... I suppose will not be cheap. 

West Seattle

Well today was the most beautiful day so far, by far.  For the very first time, I woke up to blue skies and sunshine.  Do not take this for granted, people. 

It was pleasantly breezy, with a high of maybe 68, but very sunny.  By day's end the sky was a bit milky, but still!  Lovely day. 

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I ventured today out to the lovely, homey hamlet of West Seattle

Which approximately 5 miles south of downtown Seattle, across the West Seattle Bridge, past lots of industrial looking cranes and the like, then up the hill (Seattle is very hilly - some hills here are as steep as San Fran), and finally over to what is called the Alaska Junction, ie downtown W. Seattle - the intersection where California Street SW(north/south) meets Oregon SW.

Every street in Seatle, btw is designated with N, E, S, W, and then you have NE, SE, NW and SW, and then you have streets with no directional designation at all.  Which is notable because you will have Harrison Street N, E, S W, and then just plain Harrison Street.  Obviously there is lots of room for confusion to the average tourist or newcomer, which I learned on the first day I was attempting to use the local public transit website.  I kept entering the name of a street which was south of me, to determine which bus to take, and the bus map that popped up repeatedly showed me a route that went north. 

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So, West Seattle.  This is a totally unspoiled, almost 50's (in a good way) feeling area, featuring lots of little independent shops running down the main street, including two book stores (one all used, one a mix), a Cupcake Royale (simply can't shut up about that place), lots of restaurants, a few bars, a couple of lovely furniture and wares and clothing stores, a few second hand shops including one that funds the local senior center, an absolutely wicked and bewitching place called by the seemingly innocent name of West Seattle Antique Mall (three big floors of stuff!) which sucks you into it's vortex and forces you to buy

And a local treasure, a branch of legendary Easy Street Records. 

The latter is thought of, in part, for having had Pearl Jam play inside it's tiny confines well after they were huge (Eddie being a big supporter of the place and friend of the owner), and also for having a full service real deal breakfast and lunch cafe, which sits behind a big fully-windowed garage door.

This is where in fact I enjoyed breakfast this morning - right in the coveted garage door window - enjoying a burrito called The Betty, which is egg, black beans, cheese in a spinach tortilla wrap, with hash browns. Yum.

Despite this place being a (fabulous, fantastic, of course completely indie) record store, again, the food is real and not an after thought.  Genuine quality restaurant, and as I've mentioned before in this blog, among other things, it has menu items such as The Salad of John & Yoko, James Browns, the Culture Club, and the Snoop Dogg.

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I don't know what it is about this town, but it's just got a feel to it - it's sort of charm personified.  I've felt this way ever since the first visit, back in I think 2000 or '99.  It's separated from Seattle by way of being an island, and it has just somehow kept it's independent, small, old fashioned-town feel, whilst still being pretty much completely self sufficient and with plenty to see and do.  The island has one of the largest public parks in the city at 135 acres - Lincoln Park - which juts out into the ocean on the island's west side, and on the north tip, not only are their killer views of the Seattle Skyline - the best you will see in the area ...

There is also 2.5 mile Alki Beach.

From downtown West Seattle, there are amazing views of the snow-tipped Cascades:

The town also "boasts" (I hate sounding like a realtor but it's true) an enormous collection of the sweetest Craftsman houses anywhere - most of which are not gussied up, but just plain ol', older, lived in houses. 


There is historic Admiral Theater ...

And there's even a branch of the fancy "PCC" organic grocery store, which is a nice bonus, but a bit odd, as this is definitely not a fancy/yuppie town, which is one of the coolest things about it. 

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Anyway, I just really, really dig the place, and the people were way friendly.  The first place I walked into was Leisure Books - actually open before 11am!, just a few doors down from Easy Street, and it turns out the owner - the middle aged woman behind the counter - is originally from Amherts, Mass.!  I mean, what are the odds?  I asked her how on earth she ended up in Seattle, and she explained that her father was some department chair in English at UMass., and how he was transferred to the University of Victoria, in British Columbia, and she ended up going to that college herself, then couldn't find a job in the area, so headed just south to Seattle, where she's been since I think 1982.  Man, the changes she has to have seen in that time period.  I'm imaging all the sweet little Craftsman houses which now go for $375k, must have been about $40k a pop, then.

Anyway, thank you, dear, sweet little West Seattle, for a lovely day.  I will return again before I leave. 

First very brief trip in the car ...

Here it is ...

A 2011 Ford Fusion with 26,000 miles on it, if ya wanna get technical.  It's nice enough, and not half bad looking but boy, I groaned when I saw the California plates.  Everyone will know I'm a tourist, now, and I don't think folks in the northwest are particularly, traditionally fond of Calfornia.  I remember there was a bumper sticker going around at one point that said "Don't Californicate Oregon".  Oh well.


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Just came from a brief trip north, where I drove through absolutely stunning Volunteer Park.  Wow!  This place was so much more beautiful than I thought it would be.  I was sort of expecting just grassy fields.  I had no idea it was positively filled with lilly pad ponds, and old brick water towers and banks and banks of absolutely huge, gorgeous rhododendron bushes in absolute peak bloom, old statues, loads of big pine-y trees and hiking trails etc., and that was only seen in a brief ten minute visit.  I will definitely spend some serious time in this place before I leave.

That's the Space Needle in the background, above.

I also hit fantastic Lakeview Cemetary, which indeed had lake views in the far distance, some downtown views, and was just generally pretty gorgeous. Old, pine-y, lots of squirrels, a few walkers, almost akin to Laurel Hill Cemetary in Saco, though not quite as grand. Awesome. 

Lastly, I had 'Siri' find me Volunteer Park Cafe.   You can't imagine the kick I get out of asking a machine where a certain thing is in relation to wherever I happen to be, and, oh ya, how to get there.  Siri responded by saying the cafe was "quite near to you", and she indeed produced a map showing both myself, and the cafe, and the suggested route between.  Amazing. 

I didn't actually expect the place to be open, thinking it was more of a breakfast/lunch place, but at 7pm, it was jammed.  I walked in and got a menu, then left.  It's quite perty, no? 

I remember reading about it before my trip, because some neighborhood folks had recently petitioned the city about it's existence, and after seeing the setting, I understand why.  This is an entirely residential area, and very very dense, with tight, narrow streets.  For some crazy reason they allow parking on both sides, so at points, you actually have to peer down the street before heading for the next block because there was truly room only for a single car down the middle.

I guess if I lived right in the vicinity and a three-meals-a-day restaurant moved into my next door neighbor's house, with hours of 7am to 9pm, and there was no parking for it except on the street in front of my house, I'd be mighty pissed, too.


Of course, I might become a regular there, as well.


Here's the breakfast and lunch menu, btw.  The usual 'caramelized banana brioche French toast with vanilla bean custard, toasted pecans & Ricotta cheese filling' - $10.50. 


http://www.alwaysfreshgoodness.com/menus/VPC_LunchBreakfastMenu.pdf



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I can't stress enough how gorgeous this neighborhood was.  The houses were just a fucking dream.  All four squares, as we would call them in New England, some hipped roof, most with chunky porches.  Picture 100% two storey mission-era, bunaglow-y style early 20th century homes, one after another, street after street.  Then add beautiful mature flowering bushes everywhere, and old stock trees lining the narrow streets, and it was just absolutely fucking gorgeous.  Will definitely be doing some walking in this area once my strength returns.