seattle

After Los Angeles it was time for a trip to Seattle. This meant a chance to cross Washington off the list of states I’ve been to. I booked a room at a Travelodge near the Space Needle. It’s a piece of cake to take a train from the airport into the city, and it’s cheap, too; just $2.50 (possibly less, depending on how far from the airport you’re going). There was a minor inconvenience; the hotel was a little bit of a walk from the last train stop, and I wasn’t sure exactly where I was going—I couldn’t remember if my hotel was at 200 6th Avenue or 600 2nd Avenue, and my GPS was still “acquiring satellites” and wasn’t aware that I was in Seattle, not Long Beach. I walked down 2nd Avenue, through a neighborhood filled with bars and restaurants; twentysomethings sat on patios with happy hour drinks in hand. I finally made it to the hotel (which was on 6th Avenue) in what would presumably be just enough time to make it downtown for the Mariners game that night. I asked the front desk how to get there and the clerk was very helpful in telling me what bus to take, drawing it out on a map, and so forth. I hopped a bus, and when my GPS finally started working I found out that my hotel was actually just 2 miles from Safeco Field. Seattle—or the downtown area, at least—is surprisingly small for such a large city. I felt as though I was on the northern fringes of the city, with the stadium at the south end, but a relatively short walk separated the two. But a 40-minute walk would have made me late for the game, and I was already on the bus anyway. I got there, then had a short walk past Qwest Field to Safeco. I bought a ticket from a scalper for $5 and made my way in.

The concourses had a beautiful view of the water just before sunset:

I went to my seat, in the upper deck down the right field line, getting a beautiful view from the stadium toward the city:

I stayed there for an inning or two before heading out in search of food and better seats. I ordered garlic fries, a curious concoction but more or less what the name suggests: fries with piles of freshly sauteed garlic on top.

It sounded like a brilliant idea, but didn’t quite live up to expectations. The fries were fine, but the garlic tended to fall off the fries, and if you did get a lot of garlic on a fry, the flavor could be a bit much. Still, it wasn’t a bad dinner.

I moved to another upper deck seat, this one behind home plate, for the next few innings. Once I finished eating, I walked down to the lower sections in search of something better. I ended up in the lower deck on the third base line, giving me a great view of what would prove to be an exciting game. The turning point came when David Ortiz came to bat with two men on base. I got my camera ready, sensing a big moment:

Sure enough, Ortiz delivered a three-run blast, much to the delight of the thousands of Boston fans in the stadium. I snapped this picture of him admiring his home run:

After the game I considering walking back to the hotel, but it seemed like every street was full of homeless people, and not wanting to take any chances I walked back to a bus stop and went back to my hotel.

Speaking of homeless people, I could not believe how many I saw in Seattle, Portland, and San Francisco. Maybe it’s a West Coast thing; better climate, more tolerant governments, whatever. Obviously there are homeless people everywhere, but I have never seen as many of them anywhere else. Regardless of your political views on the issue, it’s obviously disconcerting, threatening, and uncomfortable for a tourist in an unfamiliar place.

The next day I set off on foot to explore the city. I headed over to the Space Needle. I’d heard it was overpriced, so I had no intention of riding the elevator to the top, but I did walk around the area. It’s in a park called Seattle Center which was built for the World’s Fair. Also in Seattle Center is KeyArena, former home to the Seattle SuperSonics, and still home to the Seattle Storm. I walked south along the waterfront and eventually came to Pike Place Market, home to the original Starbucks:

Pike Place Market is partly comprised of people selling stupid touristy crap I’d never buy, but it’s also a bustling farmer’s market selling just about any food you can imagine. A man offered me a free sample of apple, and I took it; it was absolutely terrific. It was a honeycrisp apple, and the sign boasted that it was the first harvest of the season. I bought one for lunch. A few minutes later I remembered how well known Washington is for apples, so I guess it wasn’t surprising that the apple was so good.

I walked around more, finding myself surprised at how hilly the city was. Many of the east-west streets went up steep inclines from the water to the center of the city. After doing some reading on Wikipedia, I learned that the city underwent one of the most massive engineering projects ever, with many hills bulldozed and valleys filled in. Many of the north-south avenues were made level, but this necessitated steep slopes on the east-west streets between them.

I walked over to the Seattle Central Library, a stunning building designed by Rem Koolhaas.

It has its share of both detractors and supporters; personally, I think it’s pretty damn neat. The exterior is remarkable enough, but some of the interior is completely insane. Just look at the 4th floor:

There are also escalators whose rails glow yellow. And when you walk up to the nonfiction section, you don’t find separate floors; instead, there is a long “spiral” with a gradual slope up through the Dewey Decimal system. “Spiral” is a bit of a misnomer; it really just slopes up one side of the building and then turns and comes back up the other side, but it’s still a neat idea.

I then walked through some of the quieter sections of town. One of the things that struck me about Seattle was the architecture. I have never seen a city with so little interest in the architectural past. Sure, there’s one old skyscraper or two, but everything that’s been built recently proves itself a defiant break with tradition. The city even seems lacking in the mid 20th-century modernist skyscrapers that define the skylines of so many other cities. I admit it may be a little extreme to make snap judgments about an entire city based solely on its downtown architecture, but the city’s look seems to suggest a very forward-looking mentality unconcerned with the past, a mentality which deliberately chooses not to make references to past styles. Consider this church, for example:

I have no idea when it was built, but it had to have been pretty revolutionary for its time. I didn’t go to it or look inside, but at the first glance from the angle I had, it seems to make almost no reference whatsoever to traditional form of church architecture, as so many other churches, even those in a modern or postmodern style, have done. Perhaps the rectangular tower is a nod to the usual steeple or bell tower, but it rebels against the standard shape of those features.

Speaking of snap judgments, I also noticed that Seattleites are far more patient pedestrians than people in any other city I’ve been to. They almost always wait patiently for a walk sign, even when no cars are coming.* They seem about a busy as people anywhere else, but they just stand there waiting for the walk sign. I don’t really get it.

That afternoon it rained on me, just so that the city could fulfill its stereotype. On my way back to the hotel, as I looked for a good place to eat, I ducked into Taco Del Mar, which proved to be a crappy chain that’s mostly nationwide with the presumable exception of the South. I had carnitas tacos; the meat had roughly no flavor and could have been chicken for all I know. It wasn’t terrible or inedible, it just wasn’t anything great.

There’s one other story I should mentuon from Seattle. The $8 backpack I bought before my trip decided to crap out, with the zipper coming completely undone. So I had to go to Walgreens to buy some safety pins. While I was there, I bought some chocolate milk. It was probably 2 or so in the afternoon, and I was leaving the next morning. I had a fridge in my room, so I could keep it cold, but I had to decide how much I could drink in 18 hours. My choices were a quart or a half-gallon. I went the half-gallon and polished it off the next morning after breakfast. It came out to about 2240 calories and heaven only knows how much saturated fat. But it was totally worth it. And besides, I needed the calories. I haven’t weighed myself, but I feel like I’ve lost a couple pounds with all the walking I’ve done and all the meals I’ve missed. And those of you who know me personally know that I could stand to gain a few pounds. But maybe I could write a diet book about my experiences: how to lose weight by subsisting entirely on airplane snacks.

The next morning it was a walk to the train station and then a ride to the airport. Seattle-Long Beach-Portland may not be the shortest distance between the two points, but it’s the cheapest. Amtrak would’ve set me back $40 or so, and I’d guess bus service would have been at least $20, if not more. So it was off for a crazy connection.

* I later heard an anecdote from a friend in San Francisco who knew someone who had been ticketed in Seattle for jaywalking. Jaywalking? Really?