The Trip You Must Take, Part VIII (CONCLUSION)

We were in line, waiting to be cleared for U.S. soil. We got up to the guard. He was snide, proud, gung-ho, and positively stoccato with his well rehearsed questions. Why were you in Canada? How long? Where do you live? My rental had Nevada plates, and I had to explain this. Did you buy anything in Canada? No. Nothing at all, you didn't buy one cute little nick-nack? My wife lifted her liter of water. "We did get THIS!" The guard frowned and the gate arose. Hallelujah. I had not mentioned that we had purchased beer (sitting in the back seat) in Alaska, but that IS the United States. There was also a bottle of bubbly back there, which I will talk about later. Seeee ya!

We arrived back in Seattle by nightfall. We found the hotel, had the vehicle valeted, stowed the luggage, and began to comb a surprisingly chilly night downtown in search of grub. The hotel was directly across from yet another of those clusters of upscale retail meccas. Barnes & Noble. White House Black Market. Hugo Boss. You know the places. There were some generic looking eateries there too, but we looked for something a little more adventurous. We walked, and walked. It was well after 9 now and we were getting weak with hunger. Nothing looked unique. We passed a FOX Sports Bar. Hmmm.

Eventually, we found a classy looking place called The Daily Grill, on Pike Street. Green neon gently spilled from the front window. Pretty empty for a Saturday night, but the sea bass was good. Perhaps a bit disappointing after all the astonishing cruise and Alaskan fare, but quite decent. I don't recall my wife's dish.

Back to the hotel. Another disappointment. Its best feature: the sprawling lobby and a baby grand. Our room? About 5 sq. feet. No kidding. And spartan as it gets. Normally, I'm not that fussy about hotels (I try not to think about what ultarviolet light examination would reveal about the bedsheets), but we were still on our honeymoon! And, after the grandeur of our stateroom and the charms of the B & B, well, you sense the theme. As we walked to the Space Needle the next morning, it continued. Seattle is somewhat interesting, but also somewhat blah. There were some entertaining storefronts, including a place with a giant evil clown head over the door. The side of another building featured illustrations of a cell phone, a woman exercising, a pencil sharpener, and what appeared to be half-woman half-horse. I tried and failed to connect these images in a satisfactory fashion.

The Space Needle is a major tourist destination, and worth the trip. You must take the elevator to the top, a 40 odd second journey. Once atop, views of the city are impressive, if familiar. Most distinguishing are the harbors. Seattle is a major port hub, as you may know. Distinguishing, but not especially attractive. Back on the ground, we rejected the photo we had taken in front of a phony backdrop (we both looked intoxicated), but did buy some fudge. Again, one had to traverse a gift shop before leaving.

We left and walked back down Pike, to the waterfront. I neglected to mention that earlier, I had gotten in touch with an audiologist friend who lives in the area. She and her husband met us at the famous Pike Place Market. You've doubtless seen the "Public Market" neon sign that looms above the Farmer's Market, the site at which employees fling fish back and forth somewhat like the way Tom Cruise juggled bottles of Glenlivet in COCKTAIL. Yeah, fun to watch. The Public Market was teeming with people. On the opposite side, blocks of restaurants and shops were waiting to be explored. Many places had long lines, though none as much as the world's first Starbucks. We did not wait for that.

Our friends finally found us in the mass and promptly led us away from it, to a seemingly less traveled area known as Post Alley. It was a narrow, very historic appearing wind of brick. They wanted to take us to The Pink Door, apparently quite the eclectic place, but it wasn't to open until dinnertime. We instead sat outside in front of Kell's, an Irish pubbery. Try any of the sausages if you ever go. To wash it down? A Guinness! What else?

We expected to meet our friends for, at most, a meal. Rather, they also invited us to ride in their convertible Mustang and get outta the city. The weather was mostly sunny (I kid you not) and mild. Leah was driving and began to narrate the outer reaches. We passed Jet City, so named for the Boeing company. They have so much manufacturing space and land that they've co-oped a large area and named it. Not sure if it has its own municipalities. Leah's husband, Frans, informed us that Queensryche's song "Jet City Girl" was named after this place.

Soon we were heading into the farmlands of Renton and beyond. Far from city smoke and industry. Before long, we pulled into a long driveway. A farm appeared. A horse stable. Our friends had recently bought two of them and spend a fair amount of time tending. They talked of how calming it is to own horses, how satisfying it is to be outside with them. It made complete sense to me. When Sonia was an animal wrangler for a local Christmas pageant some years back, I assisted her with a horse, goat, and sheep. We baled hay and scooped dookie. We brushed and fed the animals. It was positively therapeutic. Maybe we should be farmers?

I was excited for Sonia, as she had spent much of her childhood in such an environment; her father had a horse farm west of town. She had ridden. She was natural around our friends' mares this day. We luxuriated in the calm. Frans came over and whispered, "Dude, you're getting a horse soon.."

We toured the stable and met some other animals: chickens, cats, dogs. Frans led me up a ladder in the stable, revealing a space-in-progress. "A man cave this will be," he said. The plan was to erect a retreat with a high def TV and other electronics. I think a bar was also planned.

On the leisurely ride back to town, we stopped at the Green River, which Leah mentioned she had inner tubed down as a child. We were surrounded by oaks and brush. Not a sound. Wonderful. The air was as fresh as anything I had encountered. Somewhat like what we had inhaled in Alaska. Must. Bottle. It.

We also passed through an Indian reservation. Quite surreal to see three youths sitting on the flatbed of a truck in a field, tossing what appeared to be Roman candles and other such things. It was explained to us that fireworks are legal here and it was common to see people "experimenting". I wondered what the accident stats were for this community. All this beta testing must come at the cost of an eye or at least a finger or three.

Back in the hotel garage. We gave our hosts the bottle of champagne we'd been hauling around. Did I mention that? It awaited us in our suite on the Celebrity. We had never opened it. This was the perfect opportunity, a small token of our gratitude. Our friends had made the finale to our honeymoon that much cooler.

After some breath catching, we ventured out again for dinner. I won't mention then name of the beautiful but thoroughly mediocre Italian resturant we chose. Flavorless pasta and sauce, harried yet strangely indifferent wait staff. Unfortunate, but what a gorgeous place! Nice city views, too. Go for that, then leave and eat elsewhere.

Seattle was, well, anticlimatic. Perhaps we should have explored it before taking our cruise and trekking to Canada. I did not fall in love with this city. I'm certain that someone out there could direct us to all the cool indoor and outdoor spots and tell us how we only saw a mere fraction of the offerings. Maybe we'll return.

We flew back the next day, but not before a horrific morning. When I returned the rental car, a "checker" found a small dent on the passenger side near the tailight. I had not noticed it before. Where had it happened? At Stanley Park? Did the whippersnapper of a valet at the hotel take some hairpin turn? Oy. I had to fill out an incident report. Ultimately, I was not charged for the damage. Next, I learned that our second piece of checked luggage cost $140!!! Unheard of. The counter agent stated that it was because we were flying to FL. O-K. No further explanation. NOT happy.

But my wife, the far more rational and even tempered of our duo, calmed me down and we recalled what an amazing honeymoon it was, from A-Z. The cruise, Alaska, Canada, and even Seattle were all part of The Trip You Must Take. There's no debate. You must do it. I expect a report, invisible audience..........