What could be more perfect than arriving on the day of the Pride Parade.
Twice makes a tradition, or at least the beginning of one. No?
No modern mode of transportation quite yields the gravitas for the beginning of a long journey as does the iron horse. The antiquated fussing with door stools at the Portland Amtrak station makes us feel like we are doing something important. A short embrace with sweet Tess and our familiar world contracts to two small backpacks and each other.
“These bamboo shoots in river muck sauce are quite interesting but I prefer Chalupas”.
Where we buy our fresh coffee beans.