Portland, part 2
Long in the making, it's the conclusion of my trip to the Pacific Northwest! ( Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)
So where were we? Oh yes. I had just been to the Japanese gardens in Portland, and they were gorgeous. We now come to Friday.
While I don't visit them as frequently as zoos, I also quite like science centers, and since Portland had one I decided to go. Confusingly, no one in Portland actually calls it the science center, and would look blankly at me when I mentioned it until they figured out "Ohh, you mean OMSI?" (It stands for Oregon Museum of Science and Industry.)
This here's the outside of the building. Not much exciting, except some big posters advertising their new IMAX OMNIMAX show about the stars as narrated by Mark Hammil.
At the ticket counter, I was a bit flummoxed by the options (it was very a la carte for a museum), and did end up deciding to see the OMNIMAX show after ruling out a couple of the others that were playing. It ended up being neat but not spectacular. I like the make-your-own movies at our local science center better, to be honest, if only because you can set it to show the big bang over and over again and then have the sun swoop over everybody.
Upstairs, they had a natural history exhibit (I think that's what it was, anyway), and there were a number of fossils on display. This one is pictured because I was like "A dire wolf? Hey, that's just like the ones they have a whole wall of at La Brea!" And what did the little plaque say? That almost every dire wolf fossil ever was discovered in the La Brea tar pits. It's like how the only fact people know about piranhas is they can eat a cow in two minutes.
The big centerpiece was a very large t-rex.
Here's the tail.
I was like "Samson"? And they're going on about this being the third-largest found or something? Doesn't that make "him" likely to be a "her," a la Sue? And then once again, lo, I looked at the little informative sign and it was like "There's some debate about t-rex gender..."
Maybe I go to too many museums.
Regardless of gender, it was still pretty intimidating from the front.
For some very strange reason, there was an exhibit downstairs devoted entirely to pictures of Queen Elizabeth made with seashells. Seriously. Those are periwinkles making up her ruffles. And this isn't even all of them; just the ones that I took a picture of. I think they said the lady who makes them does a new one every year or something like that. People are strange.
Me trying to configure the sails on a boat. I think this was supposed to teach me about wind and aerodynamics, but really I learned that it would help if I had something to keep the sails up.
Me identifying a "mystery solution" by way of seeing what color the flame turned.
As you can see, fashionable goggles were required at all times in the chemistry lab.
By the lockers, of which I had availed myself to store my jacket and backpack, was one of those money pegboard things (like a small version of plinko from The Price is Right) with a rather transparent plea for donations.
Me in the capsule in the space exhibit. It was rather awkward to get out, but at least I fit.
Spinning around in the not-really-super-fast space spinner thing.
They had a new exhibit they were trying out about nanotechnology, and each station had obviously had a lot of work put into it. Headphones, interactive displays, the works. While I was wandering around, I ended up talking to this guy with a clipboard who happened to be doing surveys about the exhibit. Always one to tell others what I think, I volunteered to try everything out and then report back for a taped question and answer survey.
I thought the exhibit was really just okay, but I was able to be pretty specific about why and was given a tattoo for my efforts. Goodness, I'm looking pretty tired in this picture, aren't I? So it was kind of a surprise when he wrapped up the interview by asking if I wanted to get dinner on Sunday, but I was leaving then so obviously it didn't work out. Still, it's nice to be asked. ^-^
(If you can't read it, the tattoo says "I'm Made of Atoms.")
After the OMSI I had been thinking of going to the Oregon history museum, but it had gotten a tad late for that so I asked a lady at the front desk what would be good. She pulled out a tourist map and gave me directions to the Portland Chinese Gardens downtown. Excellent.
I decided to walk, since it was just across the river and then down a ways. On the way, I encountered this fine establishment, which I'm sure serves only the most delicious whatever it is they have. (Pizza would be appropriate.)
Going across the loooooong Hawthorne bridge.
I wonder if these suicide counseling signs actually work? Do they get a lot of potential jumpers? I guess I shouldn't really make light of it, since I do read Post Secret every week, but it was weird to see.
While I was trekking across the loooooong bridge, I met a very nice girl walking her dog, who was happy to talk about stuff downtown and offered to show me the gardens since it was on her way anyway. When we got to some steps, she was being very specific in how she praised her dog for waiting at them and I asked if she was training it as a seeing-eye dog. She told me it was already a seeing-eye dog and she was blind. Oh.
We actually made a couple wrong turns (insert blind joke here, but the problem was really just that blocks are short in downtown Portland), but arrived soon enough.
This statue reminds me of Vicki. It's the sort of "shocked woe" expression that does it.
Into the gardens! They weren't nearly as big or as nice as the Japanese gardens, and more crowded besides (I had gotten really lucky with the timing of my visit there), but they were still quite picturesque. Here's a map so you can see the layout and fancy names for everything.
Blind girl (I really wish I remembered her name) had said that she liked to visit the gardens barefoot, since the grounds were set up to have sort of a tactile experience for your feet, so I decided to try it myself. The guides kindly let me leave my shoes by the gate.
There was this big lake in the middle, which was very pretty, and tall buildings all around, which was kind of strange.
Building reflection in the water.
More pretty landscape + city.
As you walked around, there were several little exhibits in the pavilions. Here's one inviting you to try the Chinese fortune sticks. (The yellow sign is imploring you not to actually take the sticks home.)
My fortune. They really went out on a limb there, didn't they? (Also: "...between the sheets." Hee.)
A pretty display of a writing desk.
More pretty.
Unlike the Japanese gardens, the Chinese gardens featured a tea house on site. Since I was a bit hungry and playing tourist anyway, I decided to go inside. I ordered mint Mongolian tea, since I felt obligated to have a tea of some kind, a marbled tea egg, since I'd never heard of one before and it sounded good, and some sesame crisps, since they were only a dollar and I love sesame.
Everything was indeed good, especially the marbled tea egg. That thing was delicious. And it had these little red fruits on the side that I couldn't identify but were also super good. I think I'm going to see about looking up a recipe.
They had some tables set up outside the teahouse as well (I was inside), and a blue jay was strutting around while I leisurely finished my tea. He was fun to watch.
The entrance roof. You know what Des Moines needs? More dragons on our architecture.
Around this time, I noticed that I had just about filled up the card on my good camera, so most of the rest of these were taken with my traveling camera. (That's my excuse for any blurry photos or bad lighting.)
Leaving the gardens, I headed through China Town towards Powell's books, since it was just 12 blocks away or so. This elephant statue was in a park along my route.
The fabled bookstore that takes up a whole city block! ...Except, as I've emphasized, city blocks aren't that big in Portland. Still, it was Powell's!
All the book categories.
They had little pins and stickers that said things like "I got lost at Powell's Books," but everything was color-coded and pretty easy to find. I was a little disappointed in the selection, however. While they had a lot of books, it was still the same selection you'd find at any Borders or Half-Price, at least in the young adult and romance sections. They didn't have any of the books I was hoping they would (no Carla Kelly, no Lynn Flewelling, no Hilari Bell that I didn't already have, no Ellen Emerson White, etc).
I would have left with just a book or two, but as I was wandering around I hit the language section, and there were several shelves devoted to Japanese manga. I went over every single book hoping to find anything by Morimoto Shuu, but had the same luck I'd had back in Seattle in Kinokuniya: none. I did, however, find quite a lot of Fruits Basket.
"Hmm," I wondered to myself. "I don't suppose they have the whole series? I'll just see if I can find 1-23..." And they did. All for $2.50 each or so. And despite already owning all 23 volumes in English, aka that language I actually speak, I went ahead and bought them.
I am weak.
...Also, strong, thanks to carrying all those books back to the hostel.
I was really hungry after all that exhaustive book shopping, and asked at the Powell's information desk where might be good to eat in the area. Perhaps something Japanese? She informed me there was a conveyor belt sushi place - say it with me now - just a few blocks away.
Oh hell yes.
I'd never been to a conveyor-belt place before, though of course I've seen them in anime. I was so ridiculously delighted to be there, and had tons of fun picking out what I wanted. I even made a couple special orders for things that were on the menu but I didn't see go by, and they made them up for me right away. The waiter/sushi-guy in this photo was rather amused by me.
A nice couple eating next to me took this picture. Seriously, yum.
Totaling up the bill by counting the plates. It wasn't very expensive at all. I think it was green was $1, pink was $1.50, and blue was $2? Something like that. The edamame I remember being a dollar for sure.
After that, it was back to the hostel and the realization that I had just bought over 23 books I was going to have to fit into my suitcase.
The next morning, I was getting myself a bagel (there were free day-old bagels in the hostel kitchen donated by a bakery down the street, and I'd discovered there was usually an asiago one or two) when Shuu (Japanese guy previously pictured playing Apples to Apples) asked if I was going to the Saturday Market. I had indeed been thinking about going, and managed to correctly pick up on the hint and ask if he wanted to go together. He did, so off we went.
It wasn't actually that exciting, being mostly craft stalls and food vendors with neither of us especially hungry since we'd just eaten breakfast, but we had fun anyway. This booth sold an astonishing variety of things made out of silverware.
The market extended from the waterfront to across the street and up a couple of blocks.
I'd honestly never seen anyone actually out preaching to the masses on a soapbox step stool before. I guess everyone else had, though, because no one else was paying him any attention at all, and even I had only stopped to take his picture. I wonder what they think about doing that? Does it bother them that no one listens? Why do they do it, then? Do they actually get converts, and I just didn't happen to see any?
Market toured, my plan was to finally hit up the Oregon History Museum, and Shuu decided to come along as well.
I couldn't tell at the time (and I'm still not sure) whether or not this building is painted to look like this or actually has some of these details. I think it's a painting, but it's very convincing.
Very few people were there for a Saturday, so we could spend all the time we wanted without anyone to trouble us. The big exhibit downstairs was for the Pendleton Round-up, which I had previously never heard of but turned out to be quite fascinating. (It's a major rodeo they hold in Portland every year.)
This display was to show some of the outfits worn by the Native Americans in attendance.
Pretending to play poker in the saloon.
I kept wondering where they exhibit about the Oregon Trail was, because surely they had to have one, right? It ended up being a medium-sized room on one of the upper floors.
Most depressing jukebox ever.
After the museum, we were hungry, and I was like "Oh hey! I know a great place."
Yes, I dragged Shuu to the conveyor belt sushi restaurant. He was a little skeptical, actually being from Japan and all, but after trying the tamago (which he said is how you can truly judge a sushi place) and ordering the masago twice he agreed it was pretty good. I, meanwhile, discovered they also offered red bean ice cream, and if I am ever in Oregon again you can guess where I'll be eating.
Who can I bribe to get one of these in Des Moines? Seriously.
After that, Shuu and I split up since he wanted to go to Powell's and I'd already been, so I decided to head back to Washington Park and wander around. Here's a picture of one of the metro trains I kept riding around on.
The core sample I mentioned previously. The metro stop is very, very far underground.
I decided to hike through the Hoyt Arboretum up to the Pittock Mansion, where the view was supposed to be very good.
The arboretum was basically a giant tree garden, which I hadn't been quite expecting. Many of the trees were labeled, and different paths featured different families of trees. For example, this is a western hemlock in the hemlock section.
A redwood for mom.
Most of the trail looked like this. I was a little worried about getting lost, since I didn't have a map and there were a number of little branching side trails, but I pulled up my photograph of the sign and squinted at it to make sure of my general direction and it all worked out.
To get to the mansion, you have to leave the arboretum and cross the road, which had very, very steep sides. Once across, the trail continued uphill. Very uphill.
When I got there, the mansion itself was closed since it was after four, but the grounds were still open and a number of people were taking in the view and gardens.
Downtown Portland, take two. Still no Mt. Hood.
The mansion itself. If you looked in the windows, you could see all sorts of stuff set up, presumably for tours.
Heading back down I was getting tired, and decided to follow the road downhill until I came to a bus stop.
Rather then post the bus times at each stop, they had a thing set up where there was a phone number posted and you could call and punch in the number of the stop you were at and it would tell you when the bus would arrive.
Back downtown, I noticed this giant statue on a building as I was waiting for my now-familiar bus back to the hostel. Have I mentioned that public transport's really convenient and simple in Portland?
The hostel. It occurred to me that I hadn't taken any pictures of it yet and it was my last day.
A sign about the eco roof.
Teaching some other travelers how to play hearts. I felt a little bad for shooting the moon on the second hand.
Packing my suitcase Sunday morning. I got all the books to fit! (Not all of these came from Powell's; I'd brought several along with me.)
The common room of the hostel.
There was a communal brunch going on that the hostel ran every Sunday attended by a number of people who I guess were friends of the owners, so I stuck around for that and contributed by doing a bunch of the dishes. (You were supposed to either bring food, help clean up, or donate money.) Then it was off to the airport.
Looking down Hawthorne Street while waiting for the bus to come.
Me hauling my bag around at Pioneer Square to catch the metro to the airport.
A rather odd statue in the square.
From the metro, I finally managed to see Mt. Hood, and spent most of the trip amusing the other passengers by trying to get a clear shot of it.
I was a bit worried about going over the weight limit with my bag, but it came in at 49 pounds exactly. Wow.
Security theater.
My god, they're everywhere!
A picture of Mt. Hood while waiting for our turn on the runway.
Flying back home!
All in all, it was a pretty good trip. A few things could have been better, but I managed to see everything I wanted and came back with plenty of souvenirs. A++, would travel to the Pacific Northwest again.
So where were we? Oh yes. I had just been to the Japanese gardens in Portland, and they were gorgeous. We now come to Friday.
While I don't visit them as frequently as zoos, I also quite like science centers, and since Portland had one I decided to go. Confusingly, no one in Portland actually calls it the science center, and would look blankly at me when I mentioned it until they figured out "Ohh, you mean OMSI?" (It stands for Oregon Museum of Science and Industry.)
This here's the outside of the building. Not much exciting, except some big posters advertising their new IMAX OMNIMAX show about the stars as narrated by Mark Hammil.
At the ticket counter, I was a bit flummoxed by the options (it was very a la carte for a museum), and did end up deciding to see the OMNIMAX show after ruling out a couple of the others that were playing. It ended up being neat but not spectacular. I like the make-your-own movies at our local science center better, to be honest, if only because you can set it to show the big bang over and over again and then have the sun swoop over everybody.
Upstairs, they had a natural history exhibit (I think that's what it was, anyway), and there were a number of fossils on display. This one is pictured because I was like "A dire wolf? Hey, that's just like the ones they have a whole wall of at La Brea!" And what did the little plaque say? That almost every dire wolf fossil ever was discovered in the La Brea tar pits. It's like how the only fact people know about piranhas is they can eat a cow in two minutes.
The big centerpiece was a very large t-rex.
Here's the tail.
I was like "Samson"? And they're going on about this being the third-largest found or something? Doesn't that make "him" likely to be a "her," a la Sue? And then once again, lo, I looked at the little informative sign and it was like "There's some debate about t-rex gender..."
Maybe I go to too many museums.
Regardless of gender, it was still pretty intimidating from the front.
For some very strange reason, there was an exhibit downstairs devoted entirely to pictures of Queen Elizabeth made with seashells. Seriously. Those are periwinkles making up her ruffles. And this isn't even all of them; just the ones that I took a picture of. I think they said the lady who makes them does a new one every year or something like that. People are strange.
Me trying to configure the sails on a boat. I think this was supposed to teach me about wind and aerodynamics, but really I learned that it would help if I had something to keep the sails up.
Me identifying a "mystery solution" by way of seeing what color the flame turned.
As you can see, fashionable goggles were required at all times in the chemistry lab.
By the lockers, of which I had availed myself to store my jacket and backpack, was one of those money pegboard things (like a small version of plinko from The Price is Right) with a rather transparent plea for donations.
Me in the capsule in the space exhibit. It was rather awkward to get out, but at least I fit.
Spinning around in the not-really-super-fast space spinner thing.
They had a new exhibit they were trying out about nanotechnology, and each station had obviously had a lot of work put into it. Headphones, interactive displays, the works. While I was wandering around, I ended up talking to this guy with a clipboard who happened to be doing surveys about the exhibit. Always one to tell others what I think, I volunteered to try everything out and then report back for a taped question and answer survey.
I thought the exhibit was really just okay, but I was able to be pretty specific about why and was given a tattoo for my efforts. Goodness, I'm looking pretty tired in this picture, aren't I? So it was kind of a surprise when he wrapped up the interview by asking if I wanted to get dinner on Sunday, but I was leaving then so obviously it didn't work out. Still, it's nice to be asked. ^-^
(If you can't read it, the tattoo says "I'm Made of Atoms.")
After the OMSI I had been thinking of going to the Oregon history museum, but it had gotten a tad late for that so I asked a lady at the front desk what would be good. She pulled out a tourist map and gave me directions to the Portland Chinese Gardens downtown. Excellent.
I decided to walk, since it was just across the river and then down a ways. On the way, I encountered this fine establishment, which I'm sure serves only the most delicious whatever it is they have. (Pizza would be appropriate.)
Going across the loooooong Hawthorne bridge.
I wonder if these suicide counseling signs actually work? Do they get a lot of potential jumpers? I guess I shouldn't really make light of it, since I do read Post Secret every week, but it was weird to see.
While I was trekking across the loooooong bridge, I met a very nice girl walking her dog, who was happy to talk about stuff downtown and offered to show me the gardens since it was on her way anyway. When we got to some steps, she was being very specific in how she praised her dog for waiting at them and I asked if she was training it as a seeing-eye dog. She told me it was already a seeing-eye dog and she was blind. Oh.
We actually made a couple wrong turns (insert blind joke here, but the problem was really just that blocks are short in downtown Portland), but arrived soon enough.
This statue reminds me of Vicki. It's the sort of "shocked woe" expression that does it.
Into the gardens! They weren't nearly as big or as nice as the Japanese gardens, and more crowded besides (I had gotten really lucky with the timing of my visit there), but they were still quite picturesque. Here's a map so you can see the layout and fancy names for everything.
Blind girl (I really wish I remembered her name) had said that she liked to visit the gardens barefoot, since the grounds were set up to have sort of a tactile experience for your feet, so I decided to try it myself. The guides kindly let me leave my shoes by the gate.
There was this big lake in the middle, which was very pretty, and tall buildings all around, which was kind of strange.
Building reflection in the water.
More pretty landscape + city.
As you walked around, there were several little exhibits in the pavilions. Here's one inviting you to try the Chinese fortune sticks. (The yellow sign is imploring you not to actually take the sticks home.)
My fortune. They really went out on a limb there, didn't they? (Also: "...between the sheets." Hee.)
A pretty display of a writing desk.
More pretty.
Unlike the Japanese gardens, the Chinese gardens featured a tea house on site. Since I was a bit hungry and playing tourist anyway, I decided to go inside. I ordered mint Mongolian tea, since I felt obligated to have a tea of some kind, a marbled tea egg, since I'd never heard of one before and it sounded good, and some sesame crisps, since they were only a dollar and I love sesame.
Everything was indeed good, especially the marbled tea egg. That thing was delicious. And it had these little red fruits on the side that I couldn't identify but were also super good. I think I'm going to see about looking up a recipe.
They had some tables set up outside the teahouse as well (I was inside), and a blue jay was strutting around while I leisurely finished my tea. He was fun to watch.
The entrance roof. You know what Des Moines needs? More dragons on our architecture.
Around this time, I noticed that I had just about filled up the card on my good camera, so most of the rest of these were taken with my traveling camera. (That's my excuse for any blurry photos or bad lighting.)
Leaving the gardens, I headed through China Town towards Powell's books, since it was just 12 blocks away or so. This elephant statue was in a park along my route.
The fabled bookstore that takes up a whole city block! ...Except, as I've emphasized, city blocks aren't that big in Portland. Still, it was Powell's!
All the book categories.
They had little pins and stickers that said things like "I got lost at Powell's Books," but everything was color-coded and pretty easy to find. I was a little disappointed in the selection, however. While they had a lot of books, it was still the same selection you'd find at any Borders or Half-Price, at least in the young adult and romance sections. They didn't have any of the books I was hoping they would (no Carla Kelly, no Lynn Flewelling, no Hilari Bell that I didn't already have, no Ellen Emerson White, etc).
I would have left with just a book or two, but as I was wandering around I hit the language section, and there were several shelves devoted to Japanese manga. I went over every single book hoping to find anything by Morimoto Shuu, but had the same luck I'd had back in Seattle in Kinokuniya: none. I did, however, find quite a lot of Fruits Basket.
"Hmm," I wondered to myself. "I don't suppose they have the whole series? I'll just see if I can find 1-23..." And they did. All for $2.50 each or so. And despite already owning all 23 volumes in English, aka that language I actually speak, I went ahead and bought them.
I am weak.
...Also, strong, thanks to carrying all those books back to the hostel.
I was really hungry after all that exhaustive book shopping, and asked at the Powell's information desk where might be good to eat in the area. Perhaps something Japanese? She informed me there was a conveyor belt sushi place - say it with me now - just a few blocks away.
Oh hell yes.
I'd never been to a conveyor-belt place before, though of course I've seen them in anime. I was so ridiculously delighted to be there, and had tons of fun picking out what I wanted. I even made a couple special orders for things that were on the menu but I didn't see go by, and they made them up for me right away. The waiter/sushi-guy in this photo was rather amused by me.
A nice couple eating next to me took this picture. Seriously, yum.
Totaling up the bill by counting the plates. It wasn't very expensive at all. I think it was green was $1, pink was $1.50, and blue was $2? Something like that. The edamame I remember being a dollar for sure.
After that, it was back to the hostel and the realization that I had just bought over 23 books I was going to have to fit into my suitcase.
The next morning, I was getting myself a bagel (there were free day-old bagels in the hostel kitchen donated by a bakery down the street, and I'd discovered there was usually an asiago one or two) when Shuu (Japanese guy previously pictured playing Apples to Apples) asked if I was going to the Saturday Market. I had indeed been thinking about going, and managed to correctly pick up on the hint and ask if he wanted to go together. He did, so off we went.
It wasn't actually that exciting, being mostly craft stalls and food vendors with neither of us especially hungry since we'd just eaten breakfast, but we had fun anyway. This booth sold an astonishing variety of things made out of silverware.
The market extended from the waterfront to across the street and up a couple of blocks.
I'd honestly never seen anyone actually out preaching to the masses on a soapbox step stool before. I guess everyone else had, though, because no one else was paying him any attention at all, and even I had only stopped to take his picture. I wonder what they think about doing that? Does it bother them that no one listens? Why do they do it, then? Do they actually get converts, and I just didn't happen to see any?
Market toured, my plan was to finally hit up the Oregon History Museum, and Shuu decided to come along as well.
I couldn't tell at the time (and I'm still not sure) whether or not this building is painted to look like this or actually has some of these details. I think it's a painting, but it's very convincing.
Very few people were there for a Saturday, so we could spend all the time we wanted without anyone to trouble us. The big exhibit downstairs was for the Pendleton Round-up, which I had previously never heard of but turned out to be quite fascinating. (It's a major rodeo they hold in Portland every year.)
This display was to show some of the outfits worn by the Native Americans in attendance.
Pretending to play poker in the saloon.
I kept wondering where they exhibit about the Oregon Trail was, because surely they had to have one, right? It ended up being a medium-sized room on one of the upper floors.
Most depressing jukebox ever.
After the museum, we were hungry, and I was like "Oh hey! I know a great place."
Yes, I dragged Shuu to the conveyor belt sushi restaurant. He was a little skeptical, actually being from Japan and all, but after trying the tamago (which he said is how you can truly judge a sushi place) and ordering the masago twice he agreed it was pretty good. I, meanwhile, discovered they also offered red bean ice cream, and if I am ever in Oregon again you can guess where I'll be eating.
Who can I bribe to get one of these in Des Moines? Seriously.
After that, Shuu and I split up since he wanted to go to Powell's and I'd already been, so I decided to head back to Washington Park and wander around. Here's a picture of one of the metro trains I kept riding around on.
The core sample I mentioned previously. The metro stop is very, very far underground.
I decided to hike through the Hoyt Arboretum up to the Pittock Mansion, where the view was supposed to be very good.
The arboretum was basically a giant tree garden, which I hadn't been quite expecting. Many of the trees were labeled, and different paths featured different families of trees. For example, this is a western hemlock in the hemlock section.
A redwood for mom.
Most of the trail looked like this. I was a little worried about getting lost, since I didn't have a map and there were a number of little branching side trails, but I pulled up my photograph of the sign and squinted at it to make sure of my general direction and it all worked out.
To get to the mansion, you have to leave the arboretum and cross the road, which had very, very steep sides. Once across, the trail continued uphill. Very uphill.
When I got there, the mansion itself was closed since it was after four, but the grounds were still open and a number of people were taking in the view and gardens.
Downtown Portland, take two. Still no Mt. Hood.
The mansion itself. If you looked in the windows, you could see all sorts of stuff set up, presumably for tours.
Heading back down I was getting tired, and decided to follow the road downhill until I came to a bus stop.
Rather then post the bus times at each stop, they had a thing set up where there was a phone number posted and you could call and punch in the number of the stop you were at and it would tell you when the bus would arrive.
Back downtown, I noticed this giant statue on a building as I was waiting for my now-familiar bus back to the hostel. Have I mentioned that public transport's really convenient and simple in Portland?
The hostel. It occurred to me that I hadn't taken any pictures of it yet and it was my last day.
A sign about the eco roof.
Teaching some other travelers how to play hearts. I felt a little bad for shooting the moon on the second hand.
Packing my suitcase Sunday morning. I got all the books to fit! (Not all of these came from Powell's; I'd brought several along with me.)
The common room of the hostel.
There was a communal brunch going on that the hostel ran every Sunday attended by a number of people who I guess were friends of the owners, so I stuck around for that and contributed by doing a bunch of the dishes. (You were supposed to either bring food, help clean up, or donate money.) Then it was off to the airport.
Looking down Hawthorne Street while waiting for the bus to come.
Me hauling my bag around at Pioneer Square to catch the metro to the airport.
A rather odd statue in the square.
From the metro, I finally managed to see Mt. Hood, and spent most of the trip amusing the other passengers by trying to get a clear shot of it.
I was a bit worried about going over the weight limit with my bag, but it came in at 49 pounds exactly. Wow.
Security theater.
My god, they're everywhere!
A picture of Mt. Hood while waiting for our turn on the runway.
Flying back home!
All in all, it was a pretty good trip. A few things could have been better, but I managed to see everything I wanted and came back with plenty of souvenirs. A++, would travel to the Pacific Northwest again.