DEAR ALIZARIN: Farewell to Seattle

Yesterday Seattle temperatures hit record lows (or came close), yet I still continued my sightseeing tour of Seattle by foot. First, I hiked back down to the Park Place Marekt, feeling a bit like this fish by the time I got down there:



Pike Place Market is definitely one of the most dynamic spots of Seattle, mixing the new city with the old waterfront marketplace, tourists and locals. I did a bit of shopping for myself and for some friends and family, chatting with some of the artisans selling their wares. Some very beautiful crafts, particular the glass pieces. I bought an average cup of coffee with a disappointing pastry. It looked so good in the case! After searching over and over, unsuccessfully, for the glass wine bottle stoppers, my fingers began to feel numb even in my thick, thermal gloves, so I caught a bus back up to Capitol Hill.


I visited with the cat for a bit and then headed to Top Pot for some internet cafe action. Someplace warm and cozy, I thought. However, apparently Seattlites don't really need heat. I was freezing in there, so took my coffee and laptop and headed back to Jenna and Adam's apartment.

After a rest there, I headed up to the "Republic of Fremont," the supposed artists' haven of Seattle. Somewhat ironically, as you approach the neighborhood, the Baptist church seems to give the biggest welcome.


There were a few galleries and slightly more hippie vibe than the rest of the city, but it only consists of about two square blocks. Mostly, it now contains several more upscale restaurants arranged arround a Peets coffee and a Starbucks. Later, Lisa attributes this to rising real estate of the main strip. I did find the Troll and Lenin:



I did visit one really amazing glass gallery. Really beautiful work by resident artist (I can't find his card at the moment -- curtis someone or someone curtis . . . ). So, freezing my ass off, I look for the hip artist cafe listed in my guide book. It is now a very chic french restaurant. I decide to head up to Wallingford for my coffee.

On the bus we pass Sunnyside, which I remember is where my friend Christine used to live. I hop off and find her house. I did remember the house number from the email, but called to confirm. I was right. I hiked up to the main street of 45th Avenue and looked in both direction with equally unappealing prospects. I head right. Nothing except Dick's burgers and a Shell station. I go into the Shell station to use the restroom.

I head up hill, and, by this time, realize I only have 15 minutes until dinner. Yeah! I am a popsicle. Then I hit the downtown area. It is very small. I walk up and down the street, back to Kabul, the Afghan restaurant where I am meeting Lisa. She is there and we enjoy a decent meal. The vegetarian selections were slim and so I opted for a rice dish. The waiter told me that it is served witih all the other dishes so I chose something else and when he bought it out it had no rice. He said he could bring me a side of rice (this would have doubled the price of my original order!). I said I'd really just rather have the rice dish. I then saw why he tried to persuade me to get something else as it was a pile of rice (slightly spiced, but nothing fancy) with a garnish of carrots, nuts and raisins. Not at all the baked dish described. It was tasty and fine, but much over priced and not at all like the delicious and varied food at the Afghan restaurant in NYC I went to with Priya and Anand.

We then headed to a movie, Cache, an excellent psychological mystery which really plays with the ideas of watching and being watched, of video recording and editing, of creating realities, and of trust and truth. I still contemplate scenes of the movie, trying to unravel the truth. For instance, the scene with Pierre and Anne -- was that videotaped? Did the son see it and was that why he was so angry? Then was he in on it with the other son? Excellent movie.

Then to the tea house. Lisa took even longer than I did to decide on her order, which took the pressure off me as I am usually rather undecisive. Especially when ordering food or drinks. Then, at 10pm the town shut down, so she drove me home.

It was fun to hang out and catch up with Lisa, an old friend of a friend.

Today, tired of the cold and of shopping and eating out at mediocre places, I stayed in and watched DVDs. First, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which I found as moving and lovely and fascinating and heartbreaking and inspiring as the first time I saw it in the theater. I should buy it. I don't really buy movies. Then, The Constant Gardener. Another heartbreaking and inspiring film of a totally different kind.

Though I had a lovely vacation and enjoyed bonding with Buska, my friends' cat, who, by the end of my stay, would actually sit in my lap and purr and sleep (a rescued cat, Buska has some trust issues), I was more excited than ever to return to LA. Maybe absense does make the heart grow fonder?