Speaking of feet, mine got plenty of action this weekend – some 15 miles of walking around Portland. I really enjoyed the trip though and, as has been the case every time I’ve been, I liked Portland more by the time I left than when I’d arrived.
Saturday morning started with another visit to Alberta St. Although most shops weren’t open until late morning, I was able to appreciate how much more quirky and colorful everything was in the daytime.
From there, I spent a big chunk of the day walking around downtown PDX – I fought the crowds in REI, balked at the price tags of everything in Anthropologie, window shopped/ate my way through Portland’s Saturday Market, and saw the world’s smallest park…which I initially mistook for a typical median.
So as to not lose focus of this post too much though, the adventure of the day was something called the Peculiarium. It’s a museum of all things “freakybuttrue,” including a Godzilla model, a buried alive simulator, an homage to la Chupacabra, and no shortage of fake blood. Although I like to think of myself as an open-mind
ed person, I’ll admit that there was a point in my life where I was rather vanilla. A museum of all things strange and creepy isn’t something I would seek out on my own but, since my travel partner wanted to go, I figured it would be good to push myself out of my comfort zone. Fortunately, it was focused more towards a sick sense of humor (check) than genuine horror or gore, and it did reinforce that I shouldn’t always let my snap judgments dictate what I do and don’t try. As for my previous goal of not worrying so much about what people think and trying to disqualify myself as “not ____ enough,” I think I did well; I stil
l had moments of doubt and insecurity but would redirect my thoughts to enjoying the moment and/or something positive.
Saturday night culminated with what was originally intended to be the sole focus of my trip to Portland; the Portland Thorns were playing my Washington Spirit. Having lived in each part of the DMV, I wore the jersey of and cheered for the visiting team…though I was 1 of about 10 out of 13,000 doing so. My team ended up losing, unfortunately, and I was so cold that I bought a souvenir Thorns blanket (I know…), but it was a fun time balancing the “new and unfamiliar” with teams and a game I know and love.
Sunday meant the trip home but not without a few more visits to food trucks – I’ve decided that this is my favorite aspect of Portland. I got a Mexican chocolate donut from Blue Star Donuts, which was recommended to me over Voodoo Donuts by a local; a “Free Range Against the Machine” breakfast sandwich from Fried Egg I’m in Love, bonus points for that name; and my usual Americano from the unusual Tov, which has been converted into a coffee shop from an old bus and was singularly my favorite food truck of the weekend. My food baby and I reluctantly made the trip home, with plans to come back soon.
I think I’ve figured out why Portland is such an enigma to me – it’s hard to get a feel for what you’re missing when you’re driving by any given street. There are lots of heavily residential areas that make you forget you’re in a city, which can be good or bad depending on your preferences. But the quirky, endearing details of any given street or shop or person are so easily missed unless you’re on foot and take the time to look for them. I think I just missed those details the first few times I visited. Portland is also so hipster that it’s hard to tell whether they’re being ironic in their hipsterdom or just completely owning it without apology. Either way, I’m definitely in support of the Keep Portland Weird movement.
Readventure Self 