Portland: Rain, Regret, and Really Good Coffee
okay, so i’m pretty sure i’m running on fumes and lukewarm espresso right now. 5101717… seriously, what even is that number? it just popped into my head. and 1840001339? don’t ask. it’s like a persistent static hum in my brain. the air here in *Portland is…thick. like, you can almost chew it. it’s 8.48 feels like, 10.92 temp max, 8.78 temp min, and the pressure is 1023. it’s…there right now, hope you like that kind of thing. i just checked and it’s drizzling, but not like a gentle, romantic drizzle. more like a persistent, judgmental drizzle.
I landed yesterday and immediately felt like i’d stumbled into a Wes Anderson film directed by a slightly depressed pigeon. everything’s pastel and meticulously arranged, and everyone seems to be wearing a vintage cardigan. it’s… unsettling, in a charming way. i’m staying in a tiny studio above a kombucha brewery - the smell is intense. it’s a sensory overload, honestly.
Spent the morning wandering around Powell’s City of Books. Seriously, it’s a labyrinth. I got hopelessly lost for like, an hour. Found a first edition Kerouac, though. Worth the existential crisis. Someone told me that the best food carts are on Alder Street, but i heard that from a guy who was clearly three sheets to the wind. He also claimed to have wrestled a badger.
Checked out Mississippi Studios last night. The band was…loud. Like, aggressively loud. But in a good way? I think? My ears are still ringing. The bartender, a guy named Silas with a surprisingly detailed knowledge of obscure vinyl, kept telling me about the history of Portland’s music scene. Apparently, it started with disgruntled lumberjacks and a lot of flannel.
I’m trying to document everything, you know? The weirdness, the beauty, the crippling sense of inadequacy. It’s hard to capture the feeling of a place, but i’m giving it my best shot.
Here’s a quick rundown of my essentials:
*Camera: Canon 5D Mark IV (because why not?) - always a risk of overheating.
*Notebook: Moleskine - for capturing fleeting thoughts and questionable observations.
*Rain Gear: A ridiculously oversized poncho - it’s basically a wearable hug.
*Coffee: A portable grinder and a selection of ethically sourced beans - crucial for survival.
*Headphones: Noise-canceling - for escaping the kombucha brewery.
If you get bored, Seattle is just a short drive away. I heard that the Pike Place Market is a must-see, but also that the fishmongers are incredibly territorial.
Speaking of locals, there’s this woman, Beatrice, who runs a vintage clothing shop on Hawthorne Boulevard. She’s a total enigma. She just stares at you for a while, then offers you a cup of tea and cryptic advice. I overheard her telling a customer that “the past is always present, darling, you just have to learn to listen.” Deep, right?
I’m heading to Forest Park* tomorrow - apparently, it’s a great place to hike and escape the city. Hopefully, the rain will have stopped.
Seriously, the humidity is something else. It’s like wrapping yourself in a damp towel. I’m starting to think i’m allergic to Oregon. Or maybe just to the existential dread of being a travel blogger.
Check out some local events here: https://www.portlandmonthlymag.com/events/
And for the best food carts: https://www.portlandfoodcarts.com/
Don't miss the weirdness: https://www.weirdportland.com/
Okay, I’m going to go refill my coffee. Wish me luck.
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