Seattle: Travel Day

I'm in a mood to flee as I board my flight for Seattle. The previous few months have been a grind and seem to be disjointed and themeless in my mind. I have had no sense of real focus despite my routine schedule. I have been a hamster on a wheel, stuck on fast forward without gaining any sense of accomplishment. I need a break, even if it's only four days. I'm bound for the northwest, a new corner of the country for me. A lifetime ago, my family lived in a small town near Portland, but I hardly remember it now, having left when I was only three. I'm going, I say to myself. Going to get on that plane and go. Go to breathe, live a little differently, let a new town open itself up to me.

Travel is so much more than moving from one point to another. Every journey has its unique limitations, discoveries and uncertainties, but at some point it all begins when the need to seek new ideas and horizons outweighs complacency. Off I must go every so often. With a healthy sense of irony, I am dusting off mental cobwebs at Halloween. Perfect.

The flight from San Jose is smooth as glass, the jet arcing north as the sun sets in a streak of gold and ochre beyond the western Pacific. I'm sitting on the inland side of the cabin and spot each of the snow-clad Cascade peaks one by one until the craggy and grand Mt. Rainier emerges and then quickly disappears in the twilight mists and clouds.

SeaTac Airport is very quiet this Saturday evening. We snag our luggage and hike the five-minute walk to the Link Light Rail train station. For $2.75 we get a 30-minute ride to downtown Seattle, a no-brainer alternative to taxis and rental cars.** Our hotel is about a four-block walk downhill and then three south along Pike Street. Check-in at the Alexis Hotel is just as easy, and we're here. Just like that.

Three deep breaths and then we are out the door again for dinner across the street at Boka. Halloween is here, drifting past our restaurant window in groups of three and four. A party of eight arrives, including Fred Flintstone, John MacEnroe, a cruise ship captain, a floozie, and a few others. Uncle Sam rides by outside on a tall bicycle, wearing a very tall hat. A young vampire is eating a burger with his three pretty wenches next to us.  My dinner of quail stuffed with sausage over cannellini beans is a savory treat that hits the spot, and I'm satisfied. It's too dark to tell what Seattle looks like at this hour.

Cloaked now in darkness, the street and city have not yet emerged in my consciousness. I caught a few glimpses of waterways and stadiums when the jet roared northward earlier, but when we circled down to the airport, I lost my bearings.  I have no sense of place yet. This savory meal has only served as a hint of what may come. We'll be on foot and taking public transit on this trip; details are more easily grasped that way, and I prefer it. Time to rest and let go of Monterey so that Seattle may emerge in the morning.