It’s like no one told Portland that it’s not 1995 anymore. I’ve never seen such a concentration of unfortunate outfits, outdated haircuts and 1988 Volvos. That said, Portland is one of my new favorite cities.
I didn’t expect to love it. I heard about the hipsters, the weirdness and I’ve seen an episode or 20 of Portlandia. But it’s not until you step into the city that you realize that it’s truly like an alternate universe… a universe where the Dream of the 90s is DEFINITELY still alive.
We flew into the city early on a Thursday afternoon. As our flight descended upon the city, Mount Hood, majestic and snow-covered, floated into view. It was quite the welcome.
We stayed in the Eliot area of the city, in a place we booked through Air BnB. It was the third floor of an old Victorian house, with a deck out back that we immediately plopped down on to enjoy a bottle of pinot noir from Willamette Valley. I’m usually not a pinot noir fan, but the main wine from the region was actually pretty tasty. And we loved the view, looking out on several of the city’s bridges, green hills and most prominent skyscrapers.
The only real plans we had to for the evening were eat, drink and try not to succumb to jet lag. So we sent out to find the train and take it into downtown. We stopped briefly in Pioneer Courthouse Square, which was pretty quiet on a Thursday evening, before walking over to Deschutes Brewery for dinner. The food wasn’t bad but the beer was delicious. We were starting to become slightly delirious from the time difference and day of travel, so we decided to head down to the riverfront and then call it a night.
At that point we were delirious enough from jetlag and took dozens of photos down by the river; when we happened upon the White Stag Portland, Oregon sign; and at the train station. Just a sample:
We made it back to our place and conked out around 10pm. Which was fine, because we had a busy day ahead of chasing waterfalls in the Columbia River Gorge.