What good fortune for my visit to coincide with the Mendocino Film Festival. Only being in town for one night limited my choices somewhat but deciding to go and see the Friday Night Silents was one of the best decisions I’ve made.
A few very early George Méliès shorts (circa 1903) were followed by some longer movies including (in no particular order) Le Spectre rouge which was hand-tinted by Pathé, Buster Keaton’s first movie as director (and without Fatty Arbuckle) One Week, Barney Oldfield’s Race for a Life replete with the quintessential villain and associated hissing, boos and cheers from the audience. We were also treated to the legendary Méliès masterpiece Le Voyage dans la lune and a French stop motion film called The Automatic Moving Company.
The movies were accompanied by live music from a San Francisco ensemble, who did a magnificent job. They also improvised the score for two of the shorter movies.
All-in-all it was a wonderful way to spend the evening and will without a doubt be one of the highlights of my trip.
“Treat the Earth well. It was not given to you by your parents. It was loaned to you by your children.”
- Kenyan proverb
The sun burned through the clouds just as I took a slight detour and entered the Avenue of the Giants. The XM radio didn’t really stand a chance of breaking through the canopy so the radio got switched off. Besides, blasting out Mr. Vain by Culture Beat would have kind of taken away from the majesty of the place. I hunched over the steering wheel in order to get a better view and to try and take in the sheer scale of things.
I turned off Highway 101 and on to State Route 1 and the road changed remarkably to a narrow, winding, single-lane affair. The coastal views were stunning, as expected. It took a little longer than I planned, the road being as it is, but I eventually arrived in Mendocino in the mid-afternoon. What a truly wonderful little town. It would seem to be exclusively inhabited by artists, poets and hippies. There’s not much to do here but relax and enjoy the headlands. It’s probably one of the most anti-mobile phone towns on the planet - which is no bad thing. I swear that I didn’t know this before I arrived but Mendocino is also the setting for the fictional Cabot Cove from Murder, She Wrote.
The place isn’t cheap. In fact it has been nicknamed ‘Spendocino’ by some, but in my opinion it’s worth it. I toured the Ford house museum and tourist information center who were kind enough to book me into the Joshua Grindle Inn. Once again, fortune was on my side and I ended up paying the single room rate but staying in the Master bedroom with the comfiest four-poster and wonderful touches like a teddy bear on the bed and rubber ducks in the bath. Such a warm welcome and amazing breakfast are unfortunately a rarity these days. I can’t commend the place more.
To paraphrase Lucidity by Kinobe, if you were to interview a butterfly - which live for only a few days - standing on the branches of a sequoia tree - which may live for over 1000 years - and ask “Do you perceive the object on which you stand as being alive?” then the butterfly would reply “Of course not. I’ve been here all my life and the tree hasn’t done a thing!”.
It’s the same problem with human kind and the planet.
I left Oregon behind me yesterday afternoon and with it the Speed Zones which were unfortunately not carte blanche to drop the hammer but actually implemented to make you go slower. The weather definitely improved - the closer I got to California, the sunnier it became.
Having left the stern Washington laws behind me and after randomly thinking about hitchhikers earlier I happened upon a couple of Hoopa Indians - mother and daughter - just outside of Brookings when I stopped at a viewpoint. Maybe it was reading Kerouac’s On The Road or maybe I remembered the frustrations of hitching around Indiana a decade ago. They were also heading to Eureka so I thought that I’d give them a ride. It turned out that they’d been waiting for a large part of two days and wanted to stop in a town just outside Eureka first. I was happy to accommodate seeing as though I wasn’t in any rush.
After getting directions to the motel I dropped my passengers off and had a little tour of Eureka before checking in at the Bayview Motel. I then had a little nap, read a little, found the a problem with the wireless connection, diagnosed and attempted to fix but had to give up and head to the Lost Coast Brewery for some food, beer and free wifi access.
Earlier this week I had a bizarre dream. I forget which night it was - I don’t really know (or care for that matter) what day it is now. In my dream I had a nosebleed. Not just a few drops but a torrent, almost as if something had burst inside my head. Apparently this is either a forewarning of danger, financial worries or a feeling of not being appreciated. I’m going to ignore the varying interpretations from the Internet and instead substitute my own metaphor of finally getting rid of some of the build up of thoughts from inside my head.
My transient insomnia returned last night which was really annoying. Various things were still going around inside my head but the one that is still there is the theme song from The Littlest Hobo.
Last night I stayed in less salubrious surroundings than the night before but they served their purpose. Most of today was spent in a similar fashion as yesterday’s weather from Mount Saint Helens but not nearly as severe and the mist actually added to the beauty of the bay vistas.
I stopped for a walk along the beach just outside Astoria in the far nicer Canon Beach (where the closing scenes of The Goonies were shot) before getting back into my (as yet unchristened) rental car and hitting the coast road down to Coos Bay. I’ve no idea where the name stems from - I haven’t spotted a single bovine since I got here a few hours ago.
The driving is going fine - I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed it actually. I am currently of the impression that cruise control is the best thing since July 7th 1928 (the debut of sliced bread) but the XM satellite radio is starting to annoy me. It’s a huge improvement on the FM transmissions here but the trees seem to be playing havoc with the signal. I have found the 80s and 90s stations though and consequently my voice is suffering a little from belting out song after song for a large part of the day. I guess it’s a good thing that I don’t sing professionally and also that I’m on my own in the car!
I found last nights hotel on Lake Union by using The Force and decided to treat myself to a king size bed and then, once checked in, headed down to the Pike Place Markets2 for some food and libations. I sampled a couple of local ales in the Virginia Inn before having wild Alaskan salmon with saffron risotto and blueberry mojitos in Amber (the choice of which was nothing at all to do with my crush on Amber MacArthur). I rounded off the night with a Springbank in the Whisky Bar before turning in for the night.
After breakfast and a spell in the hot tub, I toyed with the idea of staying for another night but then thought better off it and decided to try and get a haircut before leaving. I was planning to have my now golden locks shorn completely but could only find a salon where the lovely Kelly decided to do her own thing. She was hot so I didn’t argue and ended up with a shampoo and nice trim for less than £10 (without tip) which I found surprising.
Before I left however, I did make use of the Wifi to plan my route to Mount Saint Helens and onward to Astoria being devoid of any form of Washington State map as I was. I have since fallen out with Google Maps and their driving directions. Mount Saint Helens is not very well signposted from the freeway so after exiting at junction 21 and asking at the local tourist information hut I was slightly miffed to be told that I needed to head back northwards to junction 49 (especially after noting heavy traffic in that direction - damn you karma) but at the same time I was very grateful to the delightful Virginia for the pointers to Astoria and the Oregon State map that she furnished me with.
Thankfully the traffic had eased and I made a mockery of Virginia’s estimated two and a half hour time to the Johnston Ridge Observatory, partly thanks to the roads being strangely quiet off the Interstate. I expected a route to National Monument park to be busier but I soon found out what everybody else obviously already knew: anything above 3000 feet was shrouded in cloud and mist - all I could think of was John Carpenter’sThe Fog and I locked my door accordingly. Below this elevation the scenery was jaw droppingly spectacular and I enjoyed having the road to myself. I may not have had this higher up but I just couldn’t tell as the visibility was down to 20 feet in places.
Once at the summit my view was obviously severely hindered by the weather conditions. Mount Saint Helens is only five miles away from the observatory but I was merely staring into a void. The visitor’s center was mildly interesting but I still left feeling highly disappointed. I’ve been traveling for just over a month now and to wait this long for something to not go to plan was unexpected.
I headed cautiously back down the road and onto the Interstate pausing for gas before pointing crossing tthe Lewis and Clark bridge into Oregon and pointing myself west to head to Astoria. The evening sun lit the forest behind me beautifully and I had to keep reminding myself to look away from my mirrors.
1 If you’re wondering why Astoria sounds familiar to you it’s probably because that this is where The Goonies was filmed. All together now: “Hey you guys!”
2 This is the location of the first ever Starbucks.
Well that’s the Canadian leg of my tour over and done with and I’ve got some fantastic memories to take with me. Before leaving Vancouver I managed to resist the lure of a new Apple Store opening and took a trip up Grouse Mountain with a couple of friends for the views, wolves, grizzly bears and the bird and lumberjack shows. We were also graced with a fly pass by a wild bald headed eagle. The next day I went up Cypress mountain to help a friend move equipment into storage now the ski season is over and sneak a peak at the Olympic mogul and aerials slopes.
This afternoon I stopped for some Bulgarian fillos for lunch before picking up a rental car at Vancouver airport. Susan at Budget was a great help and managed to swings so that I didn’t have to switch cars in Seattle and she also upgraded me to a larger car for free. Now, I haven’t driven for several years and I did feel a little nervous before I set off. Call it irresponsible or stupid if you will - at the same time I find it somewhat worrisome that I can legally get behind the wheel without having to sit a refresher course or something.
Once I was underway all my nerves disappeared and I made it down to Seattle with no major incidents barring a little piece of advice from the border official after waiting for an hour. Driving an automatic is undoubtably a help and I’m also in no rush so I can take my time and travel when it’s quieter.
Here are a few more things that I’ve picked up:
- Canadians can’t merge
- The speed limit in Canada is too low
- Don’t padlock your luggage when driving over the border
I spent yesterday afternoon strutting around downtown Vancouver to reacquaint myself with the city and take in the recent developments. I had almost forgotten about the courtesy that drivers show pedestrians over here. If you even vaguely look like you could be thinking about the possibility of maybe crossing the road then the traffic will stop.
I strolled around Canada Place for a while looking at the adjacent building work going on for the 2010 Winter Olympic main media centre and the float planes coming in and going back out again. Someone told me the other week that there were in fact only two seasons in Canada: winter and construction and this seems to be holding true. It was at this point that I was strafed by a squadron of seagulls and decided to call it a day.
This afternoon I hired a bicycle with the plan to go around Stanley Park but I got a little carried away and ended up passing through False Creek, Chinatown and Gastown before going back along the waterfront to Stanley Park and the aquarium. I’m not sure exactly how I feel about aquariums and zoos - I think that I probably fall on the ‘for’ side of the fence. The downside of captivity of wild animals is balanced against the fund raising, preservation and breeding programmes that are in place these days.
Isn’t technology wonderful? I was worried about missing the Champions League final and probably would have had to change my flight had Liverpool beaten Chelsea in the semi but it turns out that I needn’t have worried. WestJet had ESPN available on their seat-back screens so I managed to catch the game at 40,000 feet. Annoyingly we landed 30 minutes ahead of schedule so I missed a large chunk of the second half but I made it through baggage reclaim in plenty time to take up a seat at the bar for extra time and the ensuing penalties.
I have to say that I’m glad Manchester United won. I only actually dislike them now compared with hating Chelsea with a passion and I think that it was somehow a fitting victory 50 years on from the Munich disaster. Bobby Charlton showed so much decorum when Platini tried to give him a winners medal and you have to admire the sportsman in Paul Scholes who went straight to console the opposition.
I had another celebratory pint with the Liverpool supporting barman and then made my way into Vancouver on the Airporter bus trying to spot anything that looked vaguely familiar but a lot has changed in the six years since I last visited the city.
I’m unsure as to what a weekend in Toronto is actually like as it seems that everybody leaves when Friday comes around. Last weekend was spent watching a friend win his first two races of the Ontario Formula Ford Challenge season at Mosport raceway and this weekend I had the pleasure and distinct privilege of being introduced to “Cottage Country” for the Victoria Day holiday. The landscape around Georgian Bay is simply stunning.
Continue reading ‘Good times!’