|
Log of our trip to Seattle and the Alaskan cruise aboard Lindblad's Sea Lion.
The trip began August 25th, 2004 with Jim Ray picking us up at Cedar Beach in his limo and driving the 85 miles to JFK to make Delta's flight 1178, an elderly Boeing 757, whose first class has seen better days. Five hours of flight time (plus an hour or so of stooging around JFK) and we arrive on time at SeaTac airport just outside Seattle. We're heavily burdened with checked and carry-on baggage. … One huge duffel is filled with cold weather parkas, heavy waterproof boots, waterproof trousers, woolies, sweaters etc., and all our things from previous Antarctic and Svalbard trips. Paul snags a skycap, who wrestles our stuff into a stretch limo which takes us to the Waterfront Marriott for the same $30 fee as an ordinary taxi. We hit our first snag. The Marriott isn't expecting us. Despite having a prepaid voucher, our names haven't made it onto their computer. They have room, however, and accommodate us. We're tired from nearly 12 hours of travel. It is 1 am Eastern time, 10 pm locally. We force ourselves to stay up to about 11: 30 pm locally before turning in.
Thursday, August 26, 2004.
The day dawns sunny and clear in defiance of the forecast (rain) and Seattle's reputation.
We decide to take a sightseeing tour of the city and book space on a 1:30 pm tour on a 14-passenger jitney run by an outfit called "Show me Seattle." After breakfast, we set out on foot to explore the local area. Next to the hotel there is an outdoor elevator, which takes us up 4 levels to the road system high above the hotel. It saves a lot of hiking up the steep hill. We find ourselves at the entrance to the famous Pike Market, a huge multi-level group of stores selling everything from flowers to handicrafts to fresh produce to exotic seafood. A large brass piggy bank dominates the far end of the market. We pass the Seattle Art Museum (SAM), which is undergoing an expansion and is showing an exhibition "From Van Gough to Monderian." We find a spirits shop selling our favorite brand of brandy and we buy two liters, planning to take them to Juneau and smuggle them aboard ship. We buy a nice sandwich from a shop along Pike St. and bring it back to the hotel to have as lunch, with a diet Pepsi from the vending machine. It is a big sandwich so we save half for tomorrow, storing the food in a makeshift icebox made of our ice bucket, occasionally refreshed from the ice machine down the hall.
At 1:20 the "Show Me Seattle" bus arrives and we join a group that eventually includes a British couple, and couples from California, Israel, Italy and Georgia. Our driver, John Williams, is a folksy guy who chats everyone up. He drives us along the Pike market, up to the top of several of the hills and down a road that originally was used to skid logs from the high forest down to Puget Sound … appropriately named "Skid Road." It remains home to hundreds of homeless people and, according to our guide, is the source of the expression "Skid Row" to describe an area frequented by homeless "rough sleepers," as the British call them. We drive by the newly built sports arenas, the waterfront, The Space Needle and up to Queen Anne's Hill for spectacular views of the city. Under the Bridge in Fremont's neighborhood we visit a huge concrete one-eyed Troll (holding the remains of a real VW bug) and get photographed in front of it. We also stop at the floating homes made famous by Tom Hanks in the movie Sleepless in Seattle. We go on to the Ballard Locks, which separate the fresh water of Lake Washington from the salt water of Elliott Bay and Puget Sound. The lock operates while we watch, raising two private yachts about 15 feet. Unlike the locks on the New York State Barge Canal, which Paul has ascended, these have bollards to moor the boats that rise and fall with the water level, making the process of tying up MUCH easier! One thing, however, that is similar to the New York locks, are the lock attendants who easily lasso a boat's cleats from far above, helping short-handed yachts tie up. That never ceases to amaze.
|
|
