Portland: where Autumn, too, has arrived

I arrived yesterday, and I was immediately impressed with Portland when the first three restrooms I used all had the eco-friendly, water-conserving dual flush system on the toilets. A small, perhaps random and bizarre detail, but one that I think speaks a great deal to the character of the city, and perhaps myself. After picking up my economy rental car, I wandered around downtown Portland until it was time to meet Kim and her friends for happy hour at a swanky hotel rooftop bar. The view was incredible. And, I apparently “lucked out” in terms of the weather. It was cool but not cold… brisk. And the sky was cloudless. In fact, I lamented the fact that I had left my sunglasses in the car the moment I stepped onto the large patio area. Departure, aside from boasting of its excellent panoramic views of the city and river, had incredible ambiance. The décor was trendy yet sophisticated, the waitresses wore super fashion-forward eggplant-colored dresses, and the crowd in general was very posh… not really what I was expecting to find in Portland. Friends of mine who have recently visited the city reported that Portland isn’t really one for promoting fashion, but my first night in town told a completely different story. The girls I met (Kim’s friends: Jen, Deb, Rachelle, and Sarah) were all dressed in high style. In fact, I had fashion inspiration from all of their unique and individualized outfits. After dinner, Kim and I went back to her house in Burlingame, where Kip, her husband, and Cruz, their darling 17-month-old son, welcomed me. Cruz was supposed to be asleep, but when we arrived at the house around 8:30, the crib was more his jungle gym than sleep zone… so Kim and I went in to say hello. Aside from the lovely hospitality, Kim and Kip’s house is the kind you want to snuggle into. There were old hardcover books EVERYWHERE. I thumbed through books that were so old, I couldn’t even find the date of publication. If not for some of the inscriptions, I would have been unable to guess the dates. The books had gorgeous pages with patterned colorful designs on the opening pages. They just don’t make ‘em like that anymore. Sonnets from the Portuguese and Pride and Prejudice were my favorite finds. Kim showed me her wedding photos, which were stunning… they looked like a movie-star couple. After one more glass of wine and a tour of the house, which had an air dehumidifier (a crazy notion to a SoCal girl), we went to bed around midnight.

When I woke, Kim prepared a hearty breakfast, I chased Cruz around a bit, and then I was off to explore Portland. I walked along the Park Blocks for my morning, and then headed down to the Pearl District, where I wandered about art galleries, shops, cafes, and one of my favorites, Powell Bookstore—any literature lover’s haven. Then, to rejuvenate myself from hours of strolling, I happened to stumble across an Italian restaurant that, despite the few old men drinking coffee at a single table and the young barista tending to the morning duties, I was sure they were closed. However, the minute I saw the name, Piazza Italia, I recognized it—Rachelle’s recommendation for great Italian food. I assessed the situation more carefully, and against my better judgment and hesitation to entering a restaurant that was clearly not yet open to the public for lunch and was definitely not a coffee shop, I ventured in. I sat alone at a table near the window and ordered a cup of black coffee (a real treat for this tea drinker). The owners and their son, the barista, were speaking Italian. The men at the table across the restaurant were speaking English. I noticed one had a copy of Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men, and I hoped that perhaps they were there as part of a book club or something. Piazza Italia has televisions showing Italian channels, so I had a chance to practice my deciphering skills; PI has jerseys from professional soccer teams hanging from the ceilings and an impressive wine wall along the exposed brick (another thing I love about Portland because it seems to be the backbone of every building); PI has a deli area with Italian meats (prosciutto, mortadella, salami, bologna… you name it) and freshly baked Italian rolls and loaves. One of the men says to the barista, “We were thinking about your beautiful sister,” to which the barista replies in his gorgeous Italian accent, “Yes, you think too much about my beautiful sister.” I smiled. It was a rare moment for me. I had plenty of work to do, and yet I didn’t pull anything from my backpack. I just sat and listened to the television reporting American news in Italian. I listened to the chatter of the men. I watched the passersby. I sipped my coffee without any distraction to remove me from the present moment. It was incredible… something I should do more often.

After coffee, I walked over to YoYo Yogi, a yoga studio that is my kind of studio—no mirrors, the kind of place that values the spiritual side of yoga. I then drove over to NW 23^rd Avenue, where I enjoyed a glass of red wine (Vajra Rosso) and beet salad with Portland chevre at Kim’s recommendation, Papa Haydn. After spending the rest of the day walking around the area, I departed for the three-hour drive to Bend, where the Greenstone’s had dinner waiting.

The drive to Bend was absolutely stunning. Once I was on highway 22, I noticed that the roads were wet. This puzzled me. Not a cloud in sight. Certainly no sprinklers… it was the middle of unadulterated nature. Then I saw the hovering above the steadily flowing river, which ran along the road nearly the entire way with only a break for the lake, was a thick mist or a fog or billowing of moisture. The trees were all different colors, there weren’t houses for miles and miles, and the views of the Bachelor flooded the distance around every turn. Autumn was in full swing, and it made me sad that California keeps pushing off my favorite season.

As I pulled onto the gravel road leading to their house, Arielle and Lily came running out the front door and barreling down the driveway to greet me. It was the best part of my day, and let me just say, this was a damn fine day. More to come on my adventures in Bend.