30 degrees plus in Portland

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By the time we reach Portland we are tired and stressed from our battle to get the damaged tire repaired. The satnav is a saving grace to get us safely to our next airbnb house, which is a turn of the century wooden house in a street full of similarly bohemian homes. Every garden (and every stretch of what would be grass verge in a UK road) is full of mixed flowers and vegetables, and maybe the odd pot plant thrown in for good measure. Portland feels a bit like San Francisco in the 60s, mixed with 2014 eco-consciousness. Sandals, bikes, recycling, organic food, an outdoor lifestyle and a lot of weird people.

Our home for the next 5 nights is quirky but homely - bare wooden floors, sash windows that mostly don't open and lots of books, and family photos. Hannah falls in love with the place immediately - there are geography books in the bathroom and everything is clearly labelled.

We walk up the road at a leisurely pace to dinner, given it is still 95 degrees fahrenheit, about the same ridiculously high temperature it has been all holiday. Our spirits are revived by huge plates of tasty and (at least for Sara and Hannah) wholesome food from a local bar/diner called Dots, and some good local beer.

Next day is retail therapy day. We head to a massive factory outlet mall where we spend a happy day bargain hunting. Back home, we head off to a place selling Thai street food which comes highly recommended. So much so that when we get there we find there is a 2 hour wait. Too long. We return to Dot's where a mistake by the waitress means we end up with 2 beers each for the price of one. It would be a shame to waste it.....

Tuesday. Sara wakes to find that the itchy patch of skin on her hand was, in fact, an insect bite, and repeated scratching has caused it to swell so much she cannot bend the knuckle on her little finger. Also a bite on the heel which means the only halfway comfortable footwear is her walking sandals coupled with scows - really not a good look.

We decide to follow the guide book's recommendation on what to do on your first day in Portland. First stop is Voodoo Doughnuts, which sells - well, yes, doughnuts - and has a huge queue outside. The smell is so good we join the queue. How many doughnuts should we order? Cheaper by the dozen but that seems gluttonous so we order 2 each. Big mistake. Each doughnut is the size of a saucer or maybe a a side plate. We manage one each and pack the rest into our bag for breakfast the next day.

Portland is, well, cool and just a bit weird. Not hippy weird, or self consciously up itself, but just different. It is hard to characterise but you cannot look out of place whatever you wear or however you look, cos everyone looks different. After the donuts we go to this massive bookstore that covers a city block and wander around for an hour or so. Books bought, we agree that lunch is a non starter as all feel slightly bilious from donut overload. Next stop the Portland Art Museum, well regarded, lots of Chinese stuff, impressionists, seventeenth century second rate artists, Native American stuff (not allowed to call them Red Indians these days) and modern weird /hideous artworks. And full of pretentious idiots "his early works really excited me", exclaims a skinny bearded weirdo with a topnot to his girlfriend as he observes what can best be described as a pile of poo........

Still unable to eat because of the donuts, we indulge in some more retail therapy. David, being sad, is delighted to find Gold Toe socks in Macy's as he hoped, and then even more delighted to get given 20% the price for no apparent reason. James and David look at "sports coats", beloved of US TV presenters, but can find nothing suitable. Hannah buys make up and Sara carries the rucksack.

Bayern Munich are in town to give the US MLS all stars team a battering tomorrow night. We hang around outside a bank to see some players, only to learn the "visitor" is to be the second string US keeper whose job is to clean Tim Howard's boots; not worthy of our attention so off we go. Clearly Arjen Robben et al are not coming by the meet us.

Time to go home; on the the bus, a 15 minute ride back to our neighbourhood. Time for dinner and red wine.

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