I’ve officially been in Portland for 48 hours!
That’s the thing about August, though. Everyone goes on holiday and the world seems to empty out. Cue tumbleweed. Maybe that’s why Portland hasn’t felt quite like a vacation – it too is emptied out, like I’ve arrived home again, only it looks different but everyone is still gone on vacation. For a city, Portland is gentle and quiet and quirky…in a kind of apologetic way. I’m trying to remind myself to smell more. To notice the smells, at least. Of red cedar and sequoia. Of coniferous instead of deciduous. And the slight acrid scent of fire over the mountains. This is what I can give you now: some snapshots, a few words. You can fill in the details yourself. Whether you’re right or not it’s sometimes better to make up your own story to go with the pictures anyway. I have more wandering awaiting me in the morning. More unexplored, silent streets, more polite buses, more donuts and juice bars and fountains and freshly picked tomatoes. More old friends I’ve just met and old friends I’ve known since before I was born, and all of us together eating sushi on a rooftop. More palm readings that make me laugh, and then shiver. More of this weird city I haven’t quite figured out yet.