Took a break from running, from writing and from California and went to Portland for a long weekend.
The night we arrived, we had salt cod, pâté and cocktails at the hotel. The next morning, a spam, egg and cheddar breakfast sandwich from the BrunchBox food cart, followed by a maple bacon bar from Voodoo Doughnut and a cup of Stumptown coffee.
We stopped at music stores and The Big Book Store (we are tourists, after all) and the Saturday Market. I bought a notebook with cats on it for myself, "white lightning" catnip for the cats. There was Hefeweizen at Deschutes, Bloody Marys and wild salmon hash at Mother's, oyster omelettes at Bijou.
We wandered around in the rain, wearing heavy coats and furry gloves. We walked for blocks, waited at bus stops, rode trains. We went to a craft fair and a pub (imagine coming in from the rain for a pint and a hot beef-and-mushroom pie) and a beer shop stuffed with imports, microbrews and Cadbury. We did the chef's tasting menu at Toro Bravo and swooned over the "French kisses" -- prunes stuffed with foie gras. I drank Txakolina. He had a Sazerac.
And time passed far, far too quickly.
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