A Three-Hour Tour

We said our goodbyes to everyone this morning and hopped in the car on our way out of Canada. We had just turned out of the driveway when Melina started wailing, “I MISS MY COUSINS!!” It was sad and sweet but mostly hilarious so of course I grabbed my phone and recorded some of it. I’ll send it to the family later as it was the perfect ending to her insane behavior with the family. She was so crazy and over-excited to be with her cousins that she seriously couldn’t control herself and was an uncharacteristically difficult child when everyone was around. But as soon as it was just our family she was back to angelic. Hopefully next year she’ll have matured a bit and her cousins can see the real Melina!

So of course I wanted to see the seals one last time before leaving so we again visited the pier to show Diane. We also saw starfish and a gigantic jellyfish in the water, so it was doubly exciting for all. Then we drove into Sidney to catch our ferry to Anacortes, Washington. While waiting I grew more and more nervous about what I had heard referred to as the “yo-yo ferry,” especially upon realizing I had left the dramamine at home. My tension mounted as the ferry pulled from the dock and I realized it was a three hour ride, a detail I’d forgotten since planning the trip, and Diane was nearing nap time (the train ride to Seattle was still to fresh in my memory). But all my apprehension was completely unwarranted, as it turned out to be a perfectly smooth and gorgeous two-hour journey where we gazed at beautiful island scenery and pods of dolphins. 

 The girls were fantastic and before we knew it we were back in the car clearing customs with Diane fast asleep and Melina happily playing the “quiet game,” her new favorite (much to Zach’s delight). Then we made what turned out to be our fatal mistake: we woke Diane to visit the Arts Festival in Anacortes. Diane wanted to touch everything and Melina fell asleep in the stroller and we had to bribe her with twizzlers to keep her from screaming once back in the car. Then Diane cried almost the entire way to Seattle in a way that we know now for sure can only mean one thing: carsickness. We averted danger but it meant making many stops along the way which forced us to use the horrible port-a-potties in the Washington gas stations (YUCK what is wrong with a state that doesn’t have real bathrooms near the highway?!?) and we arrived in Seattle late, hungry, and cranky. 

Thankfully our luck again turned and our Hostel in Fremont turned out to be a gem with a large and cheap room for our family, and we remembered that the wonderful Juan had pointed out a nearby perogie joint so the decision for dinner was easy and tasty. And to top it off, the baby monitor reaches to the street below the hostel so after finally getting the girls to bed Zach and I enjoyed some ice cream together outside. 

Hopefully our trip home tomorrow will be so uneventful that I don’t need to write anything, so this may be my last entry on this trip. It was tough but I’m so glad I did this, and thanks for your support-  this journal sure will come in handy when I make our photo album!

I’ll start planning next year’s trip on the flight home…

There’s Always a Reason

When Melina was a baby she often cried for no reason other than some kind of cathartic release- like there were sobs inside of her and she just needed to get them out. Nothing could calm her down. Much to our delight we learned when Diane was born that not all babies are like this. With Diane there is ALWAYS a reason. It may take us hours or even days to figure it out but once you figure it out and fix the problem the crying immediately stops. Which is why it we were so confused when she cried and whined for nearly the entire 4.5 hour trip to Vancouver. We sang songs, rubbed her head, shaded her eyes from the sun, and handed her toys, milk, goldfish, water, and probably 20 apple slices but nothing calmed her for more than a few minutes at a time. And then, right at the 4 hour mark and upon entering the city of Vancouver, Melina figured it out.

But let me back up a bit…

We packed up and said goodbye to The Maple Leaf on Capitol Hill and walked a block to catch the bus into town. I was focused on ushering the girls onto the bus without causing too much of a bottleneck at the door when I heard the driver say “Well, hello everyone!” It was the super friendly bus driver from our first day in Seattle! We all laughed at the coincidence and it was nice to say goodbye to him like an old friend, making it seem as if our time in Seattle had come full circle.

Our plan had been to hang out in the city a bit before picking up our rental car at noon for the drive to Canada, but we were a little nervous of timing since our airbnb host let us know yesterday that we only had a half hour window to catch her if we wanted to get a parking pass. So we stopped in at Avis early to see if we could at least fill out paperwork in advance but lo and behold our car was ready so we installed the two car seats, picked up some coffee, and were headed out of town by 10:30am.

Neither Zach nor I enjoy driving, which is why we usually choose destinations with great public transportation. We would chose a plane, train, or bus over a car any day, especially with kids. It is so much more enjoyable for us to sit back and let someone else navigate the foreign roads and crazy drivers while we play with the kids and chew the scenery, so it’s usually worth it to us to forego the extra flexibility that comes with a car. Not to mention the hassle of having to rent two car seats. I know many people that won’t rent car seats because of cleanliness issues (like thinking about the last kid to puke in the seat), but that doesn’t worry me at all. I just hate having to pay for them and then worry whether I installed them incorrectly for the whole trip. But since the plans for this trip include a week on Vancouver Island where public transportation is rare, we gave in and got a car. 

The ride was actually easy and quite beautiful, and we even squeezed in a trip to Safeway to get the fixings for PB&N sandwiches (the N is for Nutella), which we enjoyed immensely in the car while waiting to get through customs. Other than Diane’s uncharacteristically foul mood the only annoyance was the fact that the GPS we brought from home that claims to cover all of North America refused to recognize the existence of British Columbia. In fact, when you set the country to Canada and then choose a province, the only choices you are given are “New Brunswick” and “Nouveau Brunswicke.” Thanks Garmin, but not even close. That will be soooo helpful next week while we maneuver Vancouver Island.

OK, back to our entrance into Vancouver. We entered via the Granville Bridge and the view is simply spectacular. The buildings are almost all the same honey-combed style from the balconies lining the outside walls which makes for a distinctly unique skyline. The sky was crystal clear blue and the sun sparkled on the water below, but our poor baby girl was just a mess. I was frustrated because I couldn’t see her in her rear-facing seat so I kept unfairly asking Melina to guess at what could be the problem. Melina was sick of trying to read a 16 month old’s mind so she was just making stuff up without even looking at the baby when finally she looked over and her eyes grew round and she said “MOM! I KNOW WHAT THE REASON IS! SHE THREW UP!” 

And that is how we entered Vancouver reeking of vomit. Poor Diane has been carsick before, but somehow we always forget her weak stomach until it is too late. On day one in the Virgin Islands I had to wash out her car seat in the ocean. Day one of a camping trip required borrowing the use of Nana and Grandpa’s washer in Winchester. So now you know why I don’t worry about the cleanliness of rental car seats…my kid is the one that pukes in them.

The poor girl that had agreed to let us stay at her adorable apartment managed to hide her horror at our stench enough to get us our parking pass and show us where she kept her detergent before fleeing to safety. I’m actually kind of shocked she didn’t kick us to the curb. It’s either because of her natural Canadian kindness, her bohemian love-everyone-no-matter-how-they-smell attitude, or the fact that the public areas in her building already smell of bong water that must have flooded the hallways and was then left to grow into a fragrant mold. Thank goodness her apartment doesn’t smell that way or we’d all be sleeping on the beach. 

Again, the selective amnesia took hold and we thoroughly enjoyed our evening in the West End. We dined on gorgeously huge mussels at Central Bistro and then walked to the waterfront where the kids splashed in the water and covered their last clean outfits with sand. We ate cupcakes as we strolled back to the apartment and the girls played on Melina’s air bed before singing each other to sleep. So incredibly cute. Now Zach is asleep already while I wait for the now clean car seat cover and clothes to finish drying in the laundry room downstairs and look forward to more adventures tomorrow. Oh, Canada.

Juan-less in Seattle

Juan felt the need to earn an honest living today so we were on our own in the Emerald City. Luckily he did such an amazing job of showing us around and schooling us on the bus system yesterday that we felt like locals. It helped that the bus routes have recently changed, making even the locals look like tourists, so we blended in nicely with our bus transfers and our Hipster Supply (TM) gear. (Pete, you can thank me later for the shameless plug.)

We made it back to Pike Place Market easily and before 9:30 am succumbed to the lure of a lavender flavored cupcake from Cupcake Royal, along with my second espresso drink of the day (hey, it is Seattle). Yummm. Then we assembled a picnic lunch at the market for later in the day. If you’ve never traveled with us, the components of our picnics are simple: bread + cheese + meat + fruit. We’ve enjoyed this kind of picnic all over the world and they are always easy to tailor to the local specialities and always delicious. So into the backpack went rosemary and garlic bread from the Three Girls Bakery, cheese curds from Beecher’s, sausage from Bavarian meats, and ranier cherries. All for about $15.

We hopped a bus back to the Seattle Center and despite our worries that the subject matter wouldn’t interest the kids we paid $40 to get into the Experience Music Project (EMP), a flashy Gehry-designed building housing rock and roll artifacts and other pop culture paraphernalia. As soon as we walked through the door we were rewarded with an exhibit that for us was more than worth the price of admission in itself: a room filled with props including Indigo Montoya’s sword, a replica of the Iron Throne, David Bowie’s costume from Labyrinth (complete with crotch bulge), and all sorts of other items from Harry Potter, Tolkien, Magic the Gathering, The Wizard of Oz and other fantasy movies and books. It was nerd heaven. The girls were terrified and enthralled with a huge breathing dragon and Diane kept grabbing my hand and dragging me back to look at it again while her lips trembled and she clutched at my neck. But she kept going back for more.
 
The rest of the EMP was very cool but the significance was totally lost on the girls. They did enjoy the bigger-than-imax screen showing recordings of live concerts and the “scream booth” where they were not only allowed but encouraged to scream their lungs out. The Women Who Rock exhibit was cool but I was put off by the omission of a certain redhead so we didn’t stay long (really, Britney was there but not Tori??).
 
We then worked our way to the Olympic Sculpture Park for our picnic- not far but keep in mind that every step we take is 2 steps for Melina’s little legs, not counting the extra steps she takes to kick every rock she sees and to make sure she bumps into every old lady that passes by, which means after about 1\2 block she starts telling Zach how much she loves him in the first stage of her not-so-subtle process of convincing him to carry her on his shoulders. Needless to say we have spent a lot of money on buses on this trip.

Speaking of buses, Diane is in a phase where she adores the song “that Wheels on the Bus” which is perfect because she is thrilled every time we get on one. Oh and once or twice we have seen passengers riding with their dogs on the bus, so she is convinced that there are doggies riding every bus, leading her to bark at every bus that passes us on the street. Yes, we get some strange looks.

The picnic in the sculpture park couldn’t have been more perfect. The girls relished every bite (well, Diane would only take a bite after she had thoroughly rubbed the morsel all over the concrete park bench, but then she definitely relished it). We stayed for a while while the girls played and rested on possibly the most gorgeous July day of all time. It was idyllic. That is actually my favorite part of our picnics- choose your own perfect setting. Oh yeah, and the company.

After soaking up the sun we strolled a sleeping Diane through the aquarium which was definitely not worth the entrance fee, but we did get to gawk at a few adorable seals and the biggest octopus I have ever seen. 

On our way back we got on a cramped bus at rush hour and Diane was getting squirmy and whiny with hunger. As soon as the whines turned into cries Melina looked at her sister with a deadpan expression and loudly sang, “the baby on the bus cries wah wah wah…” More than a few passengers broke into laughter at that one.

Our day ended with a delicious Mexican dinner in Capitol Hill where we were joined by Juan and another ex-Crutchfield employee, Alyson. It was great to hear about their exciting lives in this vibrant city over margaritas and spicy mojitos (as if we were young and cool like them). After playing “shy” at first, Melina ended up eschewing her cheese quesadilla to eat most of Alyson’s carne asada, and then announced that she loved Alyson and was not going with us to Vancouver but will instead stay in Seattle forever, or at least until Juan’s birthday in August. I told her we’d think about it.  

Alyson carried Melina back to our apartment on her shoulders through a crowd of people watching Macklemore film a music video at a burger joint. “Who?” I asked. Juan and Zach rolled their eyes.

Duck Boats and Street Chickens

I think the only way to describe what we feel right now is euphoric exhaustion. The girls have been bathed and Diane is asleep while Melina quietly roams the apartment talking to herself, but I just don’t have the energy to coax her to sleep quite yet. Maybe she will settle into her bed (a thin mattress on the floor of the hallway) all on her own, and Zach and I can just sit peacefully and relive our day. And maybe the Space Needle will launch to the sky powered by Starbucks espressos and finally rocketing the first hipsters into space.

If I were ever to write a travel book on Seattle, the number one piece of advice I would give is to make sure that your tour guide is Juan E. Juan expertly crafted our day and herded our brood through the city as if he worked for some kind of major travel company or something. But not the one with the garden gnome mascot, the other one.

We started off early with a monorail ride to the Seattle Center (Juan described it perfectly as “50s futuristic”). We explored the area surrounding the Space Needle and hopped onto a Duck Tour that drove us through the hilly streets and eventually splashed into Lake Union where we cruised by houseboats, floating houses, and house barges. Don’t ask me to tell you the difference because I was a little preoccupied keeping Diane from throwing things (and herself) off the boat. Melina stayed cuddled up with Juan for most of the trip and repeated many times that it was her favorite part of the day.

The girls were so thrilled with the tour that we would have called the day a success even if it had ended there, but it was only 11am and we had so much more to look forward to! Juan took us to Pike Place Market where we ate our way through every delicacy that caught our eyes…fresh haddock, clam chowder, local chocolates, shrimp and crab cocktails, gourmet grilled cheese, dry vanilla bean soda, and the best spanikopita that has ever crossed my lips. And that doesn’t even include the free samples! 

At this point the baby was asleep in the stroller so we hopped on a bus to the Ballard Locks. This is when we discovered the thing that no one tells you about Seattle in July: the streets are literally lined with blackberries. Juan must have thought we were back woods hillbillies the way we ogled the fruit on the bushes and frequently stopped to gather handfuls and marvel at why the local homeless population wasn’t camped by the bushes in droves to eat their fill. 

We arrived at the locks (mouths stained purple and hands pricked by thorns) to witness large schools of salmon struggling to swim up the fish ladders to get to their breeding grounds. We were all fascinated to see this when joy upon joys what should swim up to the ladders but a gorgeous harbor seal, frolicking through the waters in anticipation of the delicious salmon feast ahead of him. As you probably know, seals have been my favorite animal since I was a toddler, and I was over the moon to see one in the wild. So while the girls and I squealed in excitement, we watched as someone in the small crowd of people threw a melon-sized red ball into the water near the seal, which to our horror EXPLODED right next to the seal! Melina was near tears and I was desperately trying to figure out exactly which person’s eyes I needed to gouge out in revenge when Zach learned that this was a harmless deterrent used to keep the seals from ripping the roe from the salmon bellies, and that it was some guy’s job to stand there all day and lob bombs at passing seals. Wow. I oscillate between disgust and jealousy at this responsibility.

After getting our fill of the fish ladders and stopping to watch the locks transit boats like a 50s futuristic elevator, we made our way the Fremont Troll, a huge fantastical sculpture beneath a bridge where Melina courageously climbed to the shoulders of the troll while Diane performed the possibly more dangerous act of sifting through every speck of dirt under the bridge looking for, I don’t know, hypodermic needles? Old chewing gum? Dog feces? I can only guess at what she was hoping to find.

Then yet again I thanked my lucky stars to have Juan in my life as he introduced us to Hot Cakes in Fremont. Sigh. The diabetic coma was so worth it for molten mint lava cake and salted caramel milkshake. I had to pry the spoon containing the last drops of ice cream from Diane’s freakishly strong hands, but her tantrum was short-lived as if she understood that it was a privilege to have even sampled desserts like these.

So we wound our way via bus back through Seattle to Capitol Hill. If you’ve spent much time with my girls you know that we are incapable of passing a dog without stopping, and they make no exceptions for rush hour in the city. Luckily dog owners are typically like proud grandparents and are happy to oblige when Melina fearlessly asks, “CAN I PAT YOUR DOG?” in her four-year-old Owen Meany voice. Then Diane squeals with joy as the dog licks whatever disgusting street residue is left on her hands from playing in the gutters, and Melina relays her life story to the owner as Diane barks nonstop. It is pretty darn cute and I’m sure they will grow out of this routine long before I tire of watching it.

When there are no dogs to bark at, Diane keeps herself busy by meowing at passersby or desperately trying to catch pigeons, which she is convinced are chickens. “Bok bok bok!” She says to them as the strut the streets, and I wonder why I never realized how much they really do resemble hens. 

We ended our day with pho at a place recommended by Juan, and the girls filled themselves with broth and noodles and basil leaves. They didn’t really touch the “ga” (chicken) in the soup and I am just now wondering if it is because they couldn’t bring themselves to eat the birds they spent so much time admiring.

The Day Our Kid Karma Ran Out

So far Seattle to me is the beauty of San Francisco, the hospitality of the midwest, and the energy of Boston. I like it.

We said goodbye to Portland with a leisurely breakfast, a disappointing latte from Stumptown (I made the mistake of ordering a tall which meant the same amount of espresso and 2x the milk…not nearly as delicious that way), and a leisurely stroll through Chinatown. We all thoroughly enjoyed the Chinese gardens, so much so that the girls didn’t even break the “inside voices” rule for the entire hour we were there! Of course it helped that giant koi patrol the ponds, mesmerizing Zach and Diane who apparently shares her father’s fascination with the almost dragon-like fish. How long can I really deny Zach the backyard koi sanctuary of his dreams without permanently damaging our marriage? I think the brown-eyed girl may be the key to his victory on this front.
 
So we successfully made it onto our train and watched in awe of the scenery for the 4.5 hour trip to Seattle. The girls played peacefully and Diane lulled herself into a refreshing nap while the other passengers marveled at her angelic demeanor. Oh wait, that last sentence is a GIGANTIC lie. But I’m sure you don’t want to hear how Diane spit food all over the seat and my lap and then screamed herself into a possessed-by-the-devil, foaming at the mouth, flailing and writhing tantrum so I’ll just pretend like it never happened and skip to the part where she slept peacefully on my shoulder for the last hour of the trip. So that is how we arrived in Seattle.

But the wonder of traveling with kids for me is that the whole family gets a kind of selective amnesia, so all was good once we were on the bus on our way to our apartment rental in this unexpectedly hilly city. Our bus driver was so sweet and helpful in getting us to our destination that I thought he must be new at the job. Then again so many others helped us along our way that I may just be too used to the brusque east coast style, even after my years in C-ville.

All day, Melina was looking forward to seeing Juan so naturally I fully expected her to freeze up and put on the “shy” act when we saw him, but she surprised us all by giving his leg a huge eyes-closed hug that lasted for at least a few minutes, and then stared up at him with smitten teenager googly eyes for the rest of the evening. Even D gave him some smiles, and then the two girls played with the doggies on Juan’s apartment roof deck while we caught up with Juan and learned the lay of the land from the top of Capital Hill. There is no map better than that view.  The evening ended at our apartment with the girls fast asleep and us big kids playing Carcassonne in true game night style. Another wonderful day.