Seattle, Washington Part II
Seattle felt entirely different from the first half of our Washington trip, another indication that with each journey and each stint of travel, we experience something brand new. Even in the same state, even in the same city at different times, there is always something new to be gained from a trip, and we seek it out as wanderers every time. We began without a clue where to go or what to see, and worked our way through the city on intuition and a little luck. When we were stuck for answers, we found a bookstore or a coffee shop, home ground in a place far from home. I went to more bookshops in Seattle than I’ve ever been to in Boston. It was like a challenge to see them all, and we were diligent in completing this challenge.
We were staying in a cozy, stylish little airbnb just off the light rail in Beacon hill. Every morning, we would rise, knowing the comforts of a home base, and prepare breakfast and coffee still in our pajamas. It was lovely knowing the familiar landscape of our own apartment, and often when we were made weary by an unfamiliar city, we came back home and rejuvenated in this incredible space. It felt like our own, and we were allowed to pretend for a few days.
Highlights from this part of the trip were slightly more eclectic, and at times, felt a bit more like the rustic travel I’m used to. We had to find our own way, which can be an incredible blessing or a burden in a new city. Often, I prefer this kind of travel, as it allows you to be free and to see something through a perfectly new lens. There is a kind of adventure to the free-footed wander through a city you don’t know. You discover things, you get lost, you have mishaps and laugh about them, you have to figure out transportation, you change your plans, you get lost again. It is all in the spirit of a deeper sort of travel, the kind that gets you in the heart and changes you forever. It reminds you that you can’t control everything, and once you give up trying, the journey is more fun and more interesting. It also reminds you of your resilience. Though you are faced with challenges, though you might feel exhausted or frustrated or lost, these feelings don’t define the day, if anything they add character to the stories you will one day tell. This is what I love about travel.
The first full day we were in Seattle, we of course found Pike Place. So much to see! What an experience for the senses! We arrived early, before the hubbub of people could overwhelm us entirely, and stopped in for a bit of coffee at a place called Storyville. The caramel coloring of the wood walls and leather furniture, along with a roaring fire in the background and a sweet bit of sunlight through the window all helped us to relax instantly with our steaming mugs in hand. We were overlooking the big market sign at the heart of all the action, making it the perfect place to ease ourselves into the commotion. We spoke to some locals and received excellent recommendations for the days ahead. And then, bit by bit, we journeyed into the thick of that morning.
And what a morning it was! There were fish being thrown, fruits to sample, various wares and foods and gifts to explore. There were crepes for lunch in a little tucked away cafe. There was a network of bookshops below ground. There was a beautiful old grocery store with cheeses and chocolates and jams, all artisan wares and so tempting. There was a tea shop, a doughnut stall, a woman selling alpaca sweaters, there were golden pigs, and a fortune teller, and a cat playing the accordion. It almost felt like I had dropped down the rabbit hole, and certainly below ground the network of passageways and staircases felt like a little maze of its own world. When we emerged, we had a grocery bag full of produce, an armful of fresh seafood, and three new books. In short, we were dazzled and exhausted by this wonderful place.
That night, we cooked a feast with our finds. We had a risotto with fresh delicata squash and mushrooms and a whole pot of mussels steamed in white wine and butter. We savored every last bite and then collapsed on the couch with the lazy contentment of full bellies and a day well spent.
The next day, we found ourselves needing something a bit more restful, following our day at the market, and settled on a quieter adventure. The Volunteer Park Conservatory was the perfect outing for a slow and rainy day in the city. If I know one thing about myself by now, it’s the fact that nothing refreshes me better than time with nature. This could be time on the trail, or it could be time in a greenhouse with extraordinary plants I’ve never seen before. Inside the conservatory we took deep breaths of sweet air and found something magical. I have seen many incredible arrays of plants in my time exploring and adoring gardens and greenhouses, but never have I seen such a beautiful place to house a collection like this one. The architecture of this glass building struck such a feeling into me that I nearly forgot where and when I was. I could’ve been Jane Austen or Daisy Buchanan. It was like a set from a movie, filled to the brim with Monstera and Peperomia.
The fog of condensation blurred the outside world, penning in our imaginations with the stalks of giant palms. We could not envision anything beyond that glass room of green, as though every step was a step further into a fantasy of some sort. The air dripped with humidity and smelled like the budding of leaves in early spring. We were so warm that the layers we had piled on for that raw day had to be peeled off, as though we were shedding our dead outer shells and becoming creatures of that misty, chloroplast world. We were photosynthesizing into some other version of ourselves. I felt loose limbed and light-hearted.
When we emerged, something inside of us felt a bit younger. We explored the park some more and found a giant tree to cover us from the misty rain, eating our picnic lunch with a lightness to our laughter. Beside our resting place, there was an array of ancient trees with thick reddish trunks. These peeled away from one another like the bodies of giants climbing out of the earth, limb by limb. I stepped out to investigate, and before I knew it, I was up in the branches, unable to resist a climb. The trees themselves seemed to invite you up into their sanctuary, cradling you like a seedling against their heart. We played like children, scrambling over nature’s jungle gym and having some good fun.
After that, it was a slow, meandering journey home with stops in more bookstores and coffee shops. We went to a gluten-free bakery, which had unbelievably good pastries, and my favorite book store of the entire trip, Oh Hello Again Books, which sorted books not by author or genre but by the mood you experienced when you read them. I felt so warmed by that shop. It gave me the feeling of curling up with a perfect book for the entire morning. Having a chat with the owner, I assured her that if I ever opened my own bookstore, I would take a page from her book(store) and save some shelves for feelings.
The final day we spent in Seattle was a bit chaotic, but memorable all the same. Since our flight wasn’t until 11:00 pm we had to kill a day with no place to rest or keep our bags. We wandered the streets with our duffels, ate another picnic lunch in a park, and had a laugh or two at ourselves. Though it was tiring, this day was also the closest we came to the vagabond life I had been envisioning for myself this year. I wanted some minor mishaps, some memorable days spent schlepping bags around the city. It felt the most freeing, the most like an adventure. My favorite coffee shop from the trip was discovered during this in-between time, after we’d checked out of our airbnb and before we’d gone to the airport. There, we basked in the golden light of mid morning, sipped chai lattes, and enjoyed a quiet moment of being. It was a feeling distinct to the act of travel, as you look around, appreciate the journey you’ve taken, and sink into the contentment of stillness, just for a moment, before your journey continues onwards.