tkgsgvg nd vctria
The title of this post is efficient. I typed just barely enough to communicate the idea I wanted to get across. I've been watching Eddie Izzard performances, so I'm likely to type things that might sound clever but are just mumbling in an unintelligible accent. Take most of this paragraph, for instance.
So, Ginger and I were out of my apartment by 7 on Turkey Day in order to catch the Ferry to Bainbridge. From there we drove north to Port Angeles. The Pacific Northwest transitions very quickly from dense urban area to wilderness, and some of the most striking scenery I've ever seen. It's quite different from Boston where you have to drive for several hours to get out of the urban sprawl. Really, though, that's not a bad thing. I almost feel a little isolated because Seattle isn't wrapped in a shroud of endless suburbs.
Also, did I mention that the scenery here is striking? We were at Ginger's grandmother's house for the holiday. Out her back door you see Port Angeles harbor, the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and when it's clear Victoria itself, which is about ten or so miles across the water. Out her front door you see the Olympic Mountains, which rise to a height of over 5,000 feet in a horizontal distance of only a few miles. This is all about two and a half hours by car and ferry from my apartment in the middle of Seattle.
Thanksgiving was good. There were more than twenty people there for dinner, so it was a lot of new people. Also, I was pretty zonked after only four hours of sleep, then a couple hours on the road. But it was a good day. Ginger's family seem like nice folk.
We left the car in Port Angeles and Ferried over to Victoria for the weekend. Victoria's a cute little city. Very bite-sized, and it's just right for a weekend getaway.
We didn't end up seeing a lot of the tourist sites. We did visit Butchart Gardens, which is a botanical garden and arboretum a few miles outside of the city. Someday I want to become filthy rich and cultivate expansive, elaborate gardens on an enormous estate that I can bequeath to public posterity when I die. Butchart Gardens is actually carved out in and around some old quarries which make for some wonderful multi-level gardens with gorgeous views. We chose to visit the gardens on Friday to take advantage of the sun, and this was a good decision. The winter sun was angling through the trees and creating some lovely shadows and shapes.
Butchart Gardens were preparing for their Holiday display, which runs during the month of December. In addition to stringing many lights and ornaments all around the park, they have little dioramas illustrating the Twelve Days of Christmas scattered throughout the grounds. Ginger and I walked by three chickens drinking coffee in Paris, and we just thought it was weird. Then Ginger saw the parrots talking on cell phones. It wasn't until we saw six geese on nests that we figured it out. Anyway, I'd like to get back to the Gardens to see the Christmas Display sometime. Probably not this year, though.
We ate at a number of fantastic places. The Irish Times is a slightly commercial, but cozy Irish pub. Il Terrazzo is a fantastic Italian restaurant tucked away down an alley. We stumbled upon it entirely by accident, but apparently it's well-known and well-regarded. We had a drinky at Vista 18, a bar on top of the Chateau Victoria Hotel. There was some live, loungy jazz playing while we were there. I had Oban, a scotch. Yummy! And finally, we had breakfast at Lady Marmelade before our ferry home on Sunday morning. Ginger learned that "bennies" are eggs benedict, not omelets. I had french toast which was nearly bread pudding.
Okay I'm tired and can't think straight anymore. Goodnight.
So, Ginger and I were out of my apartment by 7 on Turkey Day in order to catch the Ferry to Bainbridge. From there we drove north to Port Angeles. The Pacific Northwest transitions very quickly from dense urban area to wilderness, and some of the most striking scenery I've ever seen. It's quite different from Boston where you have to drive for several hours to get out of the urban sprawl. Really, though, that's not a bad thing. I almost feel a little isolated because Seattle isn't wrapped in a shroud of endless suburbs.
Also, did I mention that the scenery here is striking? We were at Ginger's grandmother's house for the holiday. Out her back door you see Port Angeles harbor, the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and when it's clear Victoria itself, which is about ten or so miles across the water. Out her front door you see the Olympic Mountains, which rise to a height of over 5,000 feet in a horizontal distance of only a few miles. This is all about two and a half hours by car and ferry from my apartment in the middle of Seattle.
Thanksgiving was good. There were more than twenty people there for dinner, so it was a lot of new people. Also, I was pretty zonked after only four hours of sleep, then a couple hours on the road. But it was a good day. Ginger's family seem like nice folk.
We left the car in Port Angeles and Ferried over to Victoria for the weekend. Victoria's a cute little city. Very bite-sized, and it's just right for a weekend getaway.
We didn't end up seeing a lot of the tourist sites. We did visit Butchart Gardens, which is a botanical garden and arboretum a few miles outside of the city. Someday I want to become filthy rich and cultivate expansive, elaborate gardens on an enormous estate that I can bequeath to public posterity when I die. Butchart Gardens is actually carved out in and around some old quarries which make for some wonderful multi-level gardens with gorgeous views. We chose to visit the gardens on Friday to take advantage of the sun, and this was a good decision. The winter sun was angling through the trees and creating some lovely shadows and shapes.
Butchart Gardens were preparing for their Holiday display, which runs during the month of December. In addition to stringing many lights and ornaments all around the park, they have little dioramas illustrating the Twelve Days of Christmas scattered throughout the grounds. Ginger and I walked by three chickens drinking coffee in Paris, and we just thought it was weird. Then Ginger saw the parrots talking on cell phones. It wasn't until we saw six geese on nests that we figured it out. Anyway, I'd like to get back to the Gardens to see the Christmas Display sometime. Probably not this year, though.
We ate at a number of fantastic places. The Irish Times is a slightly commercial, but cozy Irish pub. Il Terrazzo is a fantastic Italian restaurant tucked away down an alley. We stumbled upon it entirely by accident, but apparently it's well-known and well-regarded. We had a drinky at Vista 18, a bar on top of the Chateau Victoria Hotel. There was some live, loungy jazz playing while we were there. I had Oban, a scotch. Yummy! And finally, we had breakfast at Lady Marmelade before our ferry home on Sunday morning. Ginger learned that "bennies" are eggs benedict, not omelets. I had french toast which was nearly bread pudding.
Okay I'm tired and can't think straight anymore. Goodnight.