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TRAVELING IN THE GREEN LAND
PART 1
By DAVID CAMPICHE
FOR COAST WEEKEND
recently reread “Travels
with Charley,” the 1962
autobiography written
by the great American
author John Steinbeck
that was given to me by
a friend.
The plot reminds me
of the Simon and Garfun-
kel song about folks who
“walked off to look for
America,” people with
inquisitive eyes and an appe-
tite for truckin’. In this case,
the seekers are Steinbeck
and his Standard Poodle,
Charley.
Earlier this year— more
than 50 years after Stein-
beck’s volume was first pub-
lished — my wife, Laurie,
and I are crossing borders
as well, sidling along rain-
slogged back roads en route
to Seattle and Victoria,
Washington, and Vancouver,
British Columbia. We settled
anonymously and happily
into these eminently indul-
gent cityscapes.
Steinbeck, a man with
eyes and ears wide open,
spoke of how the American
landscape of the 1950s had
changed since his childhood,
how he couldn’t find what
he once knew and loved .
(Of course, in his travels
with Charley, there were
many locations he had not
previously explored.)
Now, in my late 60s, I
can relate. Today, humanity
seems indefatigable: It just
keeps coming and growing
and unfolding and collid-
ing; its size and speed are
exhausting.
And this is a new century.
Most likely, Steinbeck
The Seattle Waterfront
PHOTOS BY DAVID CAMPICHE
The Seattle Great Wheel
would not recognize its
diversity and technology.
Seattle
The normally three-hour
journey from our Colum-
bia-Pacific nest to Seattle,
took five hours on that soggy
March day. Traffic was a
snarl.
Arriving without ex-
pectation in downtown
Seattle, we parked the car,
and accepted the mantle of
tourists. Late, we settled into
our hotel room after a glass
of Northwest wine.
Like many tourists, we
ate at Ivar’s on the wa-
terfront. The repast was
surprisingly good: lovely
Crabs for sale at Pike Place Market
plates featuring fresh halibut
fillets, black Indonesian rice,
asparagus and a beurre blanc
sauce.
The feast was preceded
by the underground tour of
the Rain City. Turns out, the
undercarriage of Seattle is
not so different than that of
our own budding River City,
Astoria, with the first story
submerged under a second.
Both cities were pillaged by
fire and rebuilt on pillars.
Brick replaced Douglas Fir,
and the citizens moved on.
We rode the Seattle Great
Wheel and did a harbor tour,
both firsts for us. In terms
of a vista, the sites were
illuminating. The sun rose
and the water shimmied
with quicksilver reflections.
On that unusually clear day,
you could count the peaks
of the Olympics, over water
and under the tapestry of
lavender mountains and
cotton-white clouds.
We walked and walked,
and walked some more,
refreshed ourselves with
a good Irish Guinness in
an Irish pub attached to
the Smith Tower, once the
tallest edifice west of the
Rockies, but now, living
in outstretched shadows of
skyscrapers. Later, we dined
in a splendid Italian diner,
Assaggio, an establishment
rich in tradition and a perfect
repose for these two city
trekkers.
The restaurant was
completely unpretentious,
and the style of service
performed with precision
and amicability. Laurie had
a sublime lamb shank, slow-
cooked in a rich stock of
wine and herbs. I devoured
Pappardelle Al Cinghiale
(wide pasta with boar ragu).
My brother, Jeff, joined us,
and polished off a portion
of Osso Buco attached to a
marvelous risotto. After a
bottle of good Chianti, we
were as happy as owls in
ancient cedar.
One must mention the
Seattle Art Museum, a
mind-expanding experi-
ence featuring, world-class
paintings, constant exhibits
and permanent collections
like the Art and Life Along
the Northwest Coast.
We’ve seen Picasso here,
and marveled at works
from Mark Tobey and Ken-
neth Callahan, a Peninsula
resident in his later years.
Yayoi Kusama is here next
month (paintings and draw-
ings that seem to “float in a
magical place”).
Perhaps, the best beer in
the city can be had at The
Pike Brewing Company.
The Finkles (two of the
oldest owners and brewers
of Northwest microbrew)
have become dedicated
friends of our Colum-
bia-Pacific homeland.
And one wanders. Ev-
eryone loves the Pike Place
Market and its carnival-like
atmosphere. Fine shops and
food dot the landscape like
hordes of wild mushrooms
that crowd our homeland in
the fall. This is a wide open
invitation to some of the
best food in America. All
this under the ebbing flood
of Puget Sound and its
sparkling waters, and the
silhouette of Mt. Rainier.
Football and baseball:
Seattle has some of the
best. Music: Seattle makes
us proud. We prefer the
jazz; Jazz Alley is a city
favorite.
We sipped splendid
white wine and peo-
ple-watched; you can
choose from hundreds of
locations from which to do
this. Service is generally
professional, urban and
friendly, and the choices of
cuisine nearly endless. We
nibbled our way through
the market. I always choose
the humbows and barbe-
cued pork.
And all of this, partic-
ularly on a day when the
traffic runs like clear racing
water, and our destinations
remain Close to Home.
Next up: Victoria,
Washington, and Vancouver,
British Columbia