November 28, 2011

Tacoma in 75 Hours (Hour 36 – 58)

{Pardon the abrupt halt in storytelling. I have been frantically attempting to fit many adventures into the too-brief period between fisheries. Now then – no more excuses;  back to my debaucherous introduction to Tacoma town.}

***Saturday (Hour 36 – 58)***

Slowly spooling back up to speed after a big night on the town, we made it out of the house by lunchtime and boldly chose to eat raw fish.

Two Koi (1552 Commerce St.) gave us nice people and beautiful rolls at fair prices (The nice people weren’t at fair prices. They were employees and presumably not for sale. Had they been, I’m sure the price would have been agreeable.). Days later we would return for their $20 all-you-can-eat lunch feast special, but that’s a different adventure. My $12 Rainbow Roll (not pictured) was superb, but they didn’t seem to have the orange ika (squid) salad I miss so much from Little Tokyo in Sitka.

The fish seemed not to fight too violently with Friday’s residual booze, so we topped it all off with cake and frosting at Hello Cupcake (1740 Pacific Avenue).

I’m no dessert fiend, so I can’t comment on comparative quality, but I like cake. Cake is good. And they have assorted teensy wee ones. Back in my Barbie-hoarding days, however, I would have given my left, lacy, fold-over sock to celebrate a birthday in their a-god-damn-dorable back room.

Continuing down Pacific Avenue, we browsed the cherry-picked thrift treasures at Urban Xchange (1932 Pacific Avenue) and the brand-spanking screen printed goods at Bleach (1934 Pacific Avenue). Bleach’s Tacoma anchor hoodie went straightaway on to my birthday wish list.

Oops. Birthday passed, hoodie received. Why do I look so guilty?

We ended our Pac. Ave. tour at the Harmon Brewing Co. (1938 Pacific Avenue) where you can get a $6 brew ski (heh) sampler of their micro beers, killer nachos ($5 at happy hour) and clams (in case our stomachs weren’t puzzled enough).

Brew. Ski.

The world’s most adorable clam

And to compensate for the day of worthy indulgences, we walked hard. First, we crossed the Bridge of Glass, filled with strange, fantastical glass thingies (and yes, that’s the best word I can think of).

Strolling along the romantic waterfront, we peeped into the glamorous condos and lofts. We jagged up to Broadway where storefront windows of empty and in-construction buildings are being used as low-cost display space for local art (coordinated by Spaceworks Tacoma).

Audra Laymon print

Our exertions ended at the Tempest Lounge (913 MLK Jr. Way) where we refueled with beer but mostly sat slack-jawed, watching “Cujo” for the first time ever on the teevee over the bar. The sound was off, but it didn’t matter. Holy crap. The movie ended, loud but friendly strangers shared cookies with us, the DJ began to play moody electronic music, and we continued our journey.

Again we stopped at 1022 South (1022 South J St.) and, feeling adventurous, ordered the Apothecary’s Cup (bartender’s choice). With such a vast selection, it’s a brilliant idea, but going forward, I think I will request mine by flavors – not by liquors. We had a remarkable drink, served in a martini glass, that tasted like creamy, liquor-y Earl Grey tea. A request for a gin base came back as a gin/coffee flavor mix that didn’t work no matter how many chances we gave it. But that is precisely the fun of it. Tens of established drinks are printed on the menu for the less daring.

As the small room filled up and became intolerably loud, we slooooowwwlllyyyyy closed our tabs (Seriously. Bring cash or patience here.), doffed our caps and made a surprise move toward home.

Sometimes even original gangsters need to rest.

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October 19, 2011

Tacoma in 75 Hours (Hour 12 -35)

***Friday (Hour 12  – 35)***

Presented in chronological order

Friday morning came and went as we slept like little baby beach angels. By the time we folded up the soiled linens, scraped off the crust and layered on more eyeliner, it was time for brunch with a very patient man near his workplace in Fife, WA.


Photo: Peter Andrijeski, Project K-Bar

Poodle Dog [Good Food] Restaurant (1522 54th Avenue East) - The giant neon sign is my favorite thing about this place which is the type where the waitress calls you “sweetheart” and refills your coffee before it ever runs out. It’s a bit greasy and definitely a diner, but that means they know what they’re doing when it comes to hangover food. My breakfast burrito could have fed three of us plus, as I started to chip away at it, I found it was eclipsing a bed of crispy hashbrowns.

Ruston Way to Point Defiance Park (drive along the water until you get to the end of the houses) – Breakfast in place, we went for a Friday family drive. It’s so odd to drive through such a residential part of town then, a few seconds later, be surrounded by the original Tacoma landscape of old-ass forests. We did the driving circuit around the park, stopping at the pullout viewpoints to gaze at the ocean majesty. Every ½ mile or so, these little dudes were standing watch, clasping their weird little hands.


Y’all got some leftover crispy hashbrowns?

Yard Sale (drive out of the park and back into the houses) – I almost forgot what yard sales are like in the lower 48. Without having to battle every single early morning grandma in town (Sitka), I got two things I actually needed…in good condition…at a fair price! Whoa. This could be dangerous.


Art fruit

Tacoma Boys (5602 6th Avenue) - I knew I would like this place, but I couldn’t predict how much. It’s like if Trader Joe’s was everything I wanted it to be – more relevant, simple foods from closer farms at better prices (which I like to hope is a reflection of less transport costs…and I would really like to hope that a better cut of that price goes to the food producers). There was so much amazingness there that the three of us branched off, coming back together periodically to share found treasures and to weep softly in joy.

I think we creeped out the cashier.

We spent the rest of the evening consuming a stunning feast of wine, cheese, bread, vegetables and fruit created from our Tacoma Boys spoils. After much eating, drinking and subsequent rolling around on the ground praying for the sweet release of swift digestion, we decided high-energy party rocking might be the best cure.


Rapture

The Swiss (1904 Jefferson Avenue) – Who knows what stars aligned to make our night at the Swiss so fantastic. Though I really like the bar itself – it’s all old and wooden and the barkeeps are friendly – this night was a little different. There was much drinking and dancing and maniacal laughter and somehow by busting out moves like awful LMFAO impersonations, the (invented) “Party Rock Carlton” and squat-kick Russian dancing, we became the belles of a very strange ball.

It was incredibly fun…and unexpected…and oh gawd, I hope no one has video evidence. It could not have been pretty.

Sometime in the early morning we shuffled home – sweaty, giggling and exhausted and crawled back into our nests to rest up for the official weekend.

***

Question for Tacomans – where else can I embarrass myself dancing?

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October 18, 2011

Tacoma in 75 Hours: (Hour 1 – 11)


Looking out this window always reminds me of beer

Despite living in Tacoma, WA for two months (exactly today!), my fish shipping summer schedule of 100-hour work weeks meant all of my T-town observations came from the windows of my home office. I could have been on house arrest with an ankle tracker without noticing any real change to my schedule.

If you don’t think this sounds like the adventurer you know, it’s because this time of year is the wang to my chung. Ebb and flow, boom and bust, hustle then flow.

But last weekend, a hurricane of hobo couch drifters swept into town, promptly ending my recluse season with unforeseen fervor. Thus I present to you – the 75 hours (Thursday afternoon – Sunday night) that made this gritty little city feel like home.


Portrait of some couch drifters

***Thursday (Hour 1 – 11)***

Presented in chronological order

*Tacomans* – Unlike other places I have frequented, not everyone is a transplant. And thus far, people seem to be non-snotty, helpful and hard-working – all things I admire very much.

Galanga Thai (1129 Broadway) – So far, so delicious on everything I have ordered (which, to be fair, is only green curry and drunken noodles), and I am kind of infatuated with their appetizer fresh/spring/salad rolls (super fresh mint/basil/cilantro and a peanutty dipping sauce? Yes. F yes.).

1022 South (1022 South J St.) – Much ballyhooed and rightly so. It looks like a dark chemistry lab library, and the food and cocktail flavors are unequaled. I had feelings for my cheese sandwich that are probably illegal. On Thursday lady night & daily happy hours, select cocktails are $5 which is a bargain for the quality. On this crowded night, we shared a table with some Tacomans who befriended us and entertained us the rest of the night.


Fancy booze

Parkway Tavern (313 North I St.) – Beautiful old wooden furnishings, a fine beer selection and ceiling beams decorated with tap handles all in what looks, at first, to be a neon-bejeweled home on a residential street. If I were not so rich in sweatshirts, I would buy their tree zip-front hoodie.

 Hank’s Tavern perhaps also called Corner Bar (?) (524 North K St.) – for some reason (booze), we started calling it Shank’s Stabbern, but it was neither shanky nor stabby…at all. With a friendly barkeep, 50-cent pool and cold beer – we had no choice but to drink our appreciation then stumble home merrily at last call.

~In the next installation – more food, more bars (Come on. What did you expect?), a super market, raccoons and more!~

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July 31, 2011

Summer condensed {Puerto Vallarta, Mexico}

I took this picture (and three thousand nearly identical others) sitting on the edge of a warm concrete sidewalk at the beach in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Every evening, a few people from the hostel gathered and walked the couple blocks to watch the sunset. On the walk down, we stopped at the Oxxo convenience store, lingering a few minutes in the rare air conditioning. I bought a caguama (which is basically a forty) of Pacifico, my favorite Mexican beer, brewed a few hours north in Mazatlan. Stepping out of the cool dry air of the store into the evening heat, I felt the salty humidity of the ocean and smelled steaming spices from a little food cart on the corner mixed with ripe garbage bins waiting to be picked up the next morning.

I knew Alaska summer salmon work was just around the river bend and that life would be hectic as soon as I flew home. On the curb at the beach, condensation from my ice-cold bottle of beer crusted with sand every time I set it back down. I watched the waves roll in and felt content.

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February 10, 2011

Destination: Dingle Town (It’s a fishing village, pervert.)

My front yard is jealous.

Wise words from a pub in Dingle

A wee backstory: Because I am sometimes immobilized with procrastination (but very good at list-making), I wrote out all the places I have been but have neglected to write about. As long as the fishes permit me time and brain function, I plan to share a few.

This week, I clicked “Randomize” and “Dingle Town” moved to position #1. I thought, “Well, I just wrote about Ireland last week. I don’t want the other countries to feel unappreciated.” I clicked “Randomize.” Many things changed, but “Dingle Town” remained in first position. I clicked “Randomize” again. “Dingle Town” glowered from #12, but who should I find at #1 but “Sixmilebridge”….Ireland.

Nobody fucks with the Dingle Town.

Ireland town/area names are some of the most abnormally amazing words in the English language. This is usually because they are a vague translation of the Irish (Gaelic) original name. To wit: Ballygawley, Knockatober, Cloonmacduff, Muff, Ballymagrorty, Figary, Tralee, Frogmore, Gortadoo, Riverstick…

And then there is Dingle. Second only to Ballygawley, Dingle is my favorite to say. Dingledingledingledingledingledingledingle. See? It also happens to be a very beautiful and friendly little town where I took some pictures, drank some beer and attempted to learn Irish dancing from a charming young man (who, no doubt, immediately regretted his offer).

Driving toward your destination, you sometimes have to stop at the side of the road because you find a field breathtaking (and then you realize, you are an old person).

There are all sorts of ruins strewn about cow and sheep pastures in this country. Perhaps this used to be a grain silo, but I prefer to think they were all castles.

Dingle Town arrival!

Yes – I think we established that.

A time transportation vortex outside a church.

Or maybe that’s this thing. I’ve never seen a thatched teepee at a church before. Priest time out? New age confession booth?

Nuns

Hello residents. I’m just creeping through your windows.

 

Seafood traps, totes, nets and buoys. I’m at home!

Good night, Dingle Town. Now let’s get rowdy.

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February 5, 2011

Dear Saturday,

 

I love you.

xxxo,

Jessie

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February 3, 2011

Castle-topped cliffs, oceanfront pasture bluffs – THIS. IS. IIIIRRREEELAAAAAAAND!*

Well, shit.

The problem with writing about a place like the Giant’s Causeway on the northern coast of Ireland* is that I started by looking back through my pictures. Pictures, of which, I snapped about a billion in a week in Ireland.

The reason for this? Everywhere I turned, there was something so damn majestic or pastoral or just teeming with romantic Irish badassness, that it would have felt positively sinful not to picture it. This describes most of Ireland. If you could possibly resist the fuzzy allure of the baby sheep or the haphazard stumbling-upon of castles, you would then have to reckon with the people.

Irish people will teach you some things about personality. A good chunk of the ones I’ve met are feisty and witty, talkative and charming but with serious, sensible tendencies. Or maybe I just so love the cadence and play used in their daily language, that I project those qualities on everyone there.  Either way, I have seriously enjoyed both my visits.

Therefore, I present to you Dunluce Castle / Giant’s Causeway in pictures. (I have tried to pare down the quantity, but I hope you will be sympathetic to the difficulty of the task.)

~***~

Scene: Sir Mao the Elder Gnome (Mao) and I so love our first night in the northern bits of Ireland, that we adjust our travel plans to spend an extra day there. With ferry schedule restrictions and one small afternoon to see Giant’s Causeway, we explore with furious excitement.

CASTLE ON A CLIFF OVERLOOKING THE OCEAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!

This was the dream house of my young imagination (though this one has slightly fewer ceilings and fireplaces). That little bridge right there…it used to be a damn drawbridge.

See – I’m not joking. It’s on a cliff. So much so, that signs said the kitchen fell off once, taking with it various kitchen staff. I say that’s a small price to pay for this location.

This is the view from one of my windows. Hello, picturesque cows!

This is the view from another window. Probably the window I would look for when I’m sailing back home from a long trip at sea.

And this is looking out from my collapsed kitchen. I think the fact that the walls fell off really just made for a better view.

My family crest highlights my skills of doing the hand jive, killing vampires, burning boats and riding sea creatures.

This is my taxidermied fox friend who is highly-skilled in surprising and terrifying shorter gnome-like people (like Mao).

The next photos are a 3-part zoom.

See those little humans on the pathway?

A spit of basalt columns (or Finn McCool’s path to Scotland)….

NEAT!

I believe that here, Mao, who has been admiring the ocean, castles, farmland and greenery, is commenting on how utterly ridiculous this place is. She is seeping happiness.

About to cross Lough Foyle on the ferry from Magilligan strand to Greencastle after a couple pints at the Point Bar. Yay us.

A quick stop here for fish and chips then back to the Sandrock Holiday Hostel.

Here’s a map of the jaunt. If you look at that map, please note the names of most of the towns….which we would read aloud off highway signs during our car trips. And there was much chuckling.

In conclusion, please join me next week for another destination from a list I have randomized of places I visited and then neglected writing about.

~***~

*Technically Northern Ireland, U.K.

 

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