the indian addiction

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The first thing that struck me about Anchorage was that when we stepped out of the airport at one in the morning, it was still light outside. I hadn't realised that Anchorage was so far north, but here in summer, the sun never sets. Which is only, say, marginally surreal.

We stayed overnight in a small little hotel run by a Pakistani woman and her husband. Mum had a good little hobnob with her about Indian spices and whatnot - apparently there's no Indian food, grocery stores or restaraunts to be found anywhere in Anchorage because the local Indo-Asian population of 70-odd families (a sizeable little community) refuse to support it. Oddly, they'd rather import their spices from south of the border - that is, Canada - instead of having food available for them locally. But now that I think about it, I guess that's understandable really. What's the point of getting your own food when you can source it from your brother's wife's sister's friend's cousin in Toronto instead?

But anyway, Anchorage is a cute little town whose sole purpose appears to be to transport the hordes of tourists from the international airport to the cruise terminals for the start of their Alaskan cruises. Actually I quite liked the town, it's not much more than a row of small little tourist shops and a main street with hanging flower baskets, but it's nice for a bit of an afternoon stroll. Would be boring as hell to live here though. No offence.

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Photos

Alaska
at one in the morning and still light..