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Published: January 28th 2009
Totem Pole in Pioneer Square
A 60ft Tlingit totem pole brought to Seattle in 1899 and still standing in the historic part of town.Slowly over the summer I've began to knock some things off the long list of to-do's and have been getting out and exploring the little town we know call home. I thought it would be difficult to start seeing the city with new eyes, passing by the same side-streets and details that in a foreign place would snatch my attention away for hours but that here, being so quick to move on, they barely register in my mental memory, but in all fairness it didn't take much but a different commute.
That's right, I said it. I had the most mesmerizing travel experience this morning on my way to work, the very thing many of us travel to avoid. You might be thinking that this doesn't count, to which I say "Very well, but I say you're wrong and here's why" and to which Andras would say "Count? What do you mean count? Who is it that does this 'counting' you constantly speak of?" But you know what I mean. Is it valid? Does it fulfill the necessary definition of what is considered to be 'travel'? And yes, yes it does.
We've been house-sitting lately which means that rather
Coffee Jolt
One of the hundred or so coffee-stops to get your daily caffeine boost. than walk the few blocks downtown I am now one of the masses heading north from the suburbs in the morning and flocking south in the afternoon. Suddenly, my whole schedule is off and I once again found myself with the slight tinge of nervous anxiety about a missed connection or train. Waiting on the platform in the brisk late summer morning I can't help but let my thoughts whisk back to the last time I was on a platform, waiting so patiently for a train somewhere in England only to make the mad dash down one side and over to the other when my train pulls in heading the
opposite direction. We don't have very many trains in the U.S so to me the shrill whistle and chug-a-chug of the engine pulling into the station is the very essence of travel, even if today I am only heading about 10 miles north to work.
Still, it felt so new and although I'd brought some paperwork to mess with along the way I was transfixed by the scenery out the window. So many new discoveries literally feet from the places I pass by everyday. And arriving into Seattle at
the King-Street station is a completely different experience than arriving from above. There is no water, no Space-Needle, no mountains and ferries greeting you--just old brick and soot, wrought iron and the belly of industry that has been there likely since the foundation of the city was laid. A whole new perspective; precisely what I didn't know I was looking for.
The next morning I took my camera with me and hopped the earlier commuter train to give me plenty of time to wander around. Light playing on shadows, the old and the new all vying for my attention. I should walk around with a camera all the time -- the things you suddenly become aware of! So many of the older buildings still bear the paint and murals of their early days, and no sooner do I start to notice these details than a feeling of old Seattle history starts to come alive. This was a logging town, a town of timber and gold, where men out-numbered women ten to one and the number of old bars, brothels and houses of leisure filled the lonely nights. It was violent and corrupt, and tensions were high between the multifaceted
Pike Place Market
One of the two neon signs announcing the Public Market. occupants of this little coastal region -- the Duwamish, the Chinese and settlers all trying to establish a sense of order.
I used to associate Pioneer Square with homeless drunks and the destitute, and while let there be no doubt that certain alley-ways mid-morning still reek of urine and trash, what dominates my minds-eye is now the history of a city coming into it's own. Compared to the history of the world, the western history of the United States is but a blip, and yet Seattle is still one of the youngest areas of the country. I can feel the growing pains.
Exploring Pike Place Market
I wonder if my eyes light up the way the tourists do as they round the corner of 1st and Pike St and see the glowing sign welcoming them to the "Public Market Center." Have I ever found myself jumping up and down, giggling excitedly "We're in Seattle!! I can't wait to get coffee!!" like those two girls I saw today? Maybe not so much as an outward display, but I still sometimes get the giddy feeling walking along the cobblestones that "I'm in the market. Tee-hee!" It's the same feeling
Post Alley
Taking a break outside Pike Place Market I get walking down the streets of foreign cities and far away back roads, only here I belong. I am part of the community that resides here. The feeling never gets old.
Walking into Michou to order lunch helped me fall in love with this place again. I adore discovering a new place I've walked by at least a hundred times but never stopped to admire. With home-made baklava and Tunisian benignets, variety of sandwiches and local soups like salmon curry and butternut squash with caramelized pear...oh I might never leave. It's the places like the market, where we stroll through regularly but seldom take the time to appreciate, that make exploring your own surroundings so worthwhile.
Sitting on a bench in a sunny autumn day, the acoustic remake of "In Your Eyes" drifting in the background noise of tourist chatter and vendor calls, I don't feel like I'm taking a lunch break, I feel like I'm miles away. I pop warm and cheesy zepote into my mouth; I don't even give them time enough to soak the white paper bag with grease. This is why I love the market, for days like these when I see the
Market Vendor
Outside Peppers and Produce, in Post Alley people from all walks of life, all over the world coming together to share and celebrate the best of this cosmopolitan melting pot that is Seattle. The seasonal harvest, the great tastes and sights and sounds, smells and aromas and textures... that's celebrating the goodness that is life.
It's taken me a lifetime to finally find myself considering this place a home. I've lived here on and off for twenty-some odd years and am only now beginning to do what I always said I would. "If I lived downtown, I'd have fresh flowers on my table
every day and do
all my shopping at the market." Sure I spent a year living just blocks away, within walking distance of that very place and visited it....once, twice? Now I'm there every day, my office is the open sea air and the community of vendors that comprise Pike Place Market.
I don't think I've ever really doted on a location as much I could this public market. More than just a mish-mash of retail shops, fish mongers and green grocers, Pike Place Market evokes a feel of the days when you knew the man who butchered your meat, shared family
Seasonal Produce
From one of the green-grocers photos with the guy carefully selecting the perfect pear and waved at the lady in the front window baking delicious pastries for your morning meal. But it's more than just a feeling, it's a reality. It turns a bad day into a tolerable one, and on good days I never want to leave, eventually prying myself away as the stalls close up and everyone moves onto one of the local bars.
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gia duck
non-member comment
Refreshing!
I like the "viewing the old with new eyes" vibe to your blog. I enjoyed the simple tone of your writing as well very easy to follow and not boring! Pics were intresting as well! Thanx for sharing.