Day 1 did not start out well. We managed to get ourselves to the airport by 5:30am only to find that Peter had an assigned seat but that I did not. As a seasoned (but usually lucky) traveler, I knew that this was trouble and in my early morning stupor I predicted that this would ruin our vacation. We had some really bad luck on our last vacation and once we hit this little hiccup, I was sure our bad luck would be revisited.
But the good luck held and I was assigned a seat about 2 minutes before boarding was to start. The flight was unexciting, though I did enjoy a rewatch of Star Trek, and we disembarked in Seattle. Once we got our sattelite navigation system (which took a few laps around the airport to kick in), we were on our way to a quick luck with Jon and Mallory.
I choose Seattle because I had never been here but actually more because I wanted to spend time with Jon and Mallory. They are actually Peter’s friends but I just adore them. We stayed with them in Paris a few years ago and adding them to our vacation was just about as much of a guarantee that one could ask for.
I wasn’t until we arrived at their house and were seated at their table that I finally believed that this vacation was going to happen. See my last vacation, 4 days in Spain with Abby, was cancelled by work and I guess I’ve gotten a bit gun shy about taking time off.
Anywho, lunch was great, a quick homemade pasta sauce with Italian sausage faux tofu and beers for the non-drivers. Jon suggested we pick up some supplies at the farmers market and I knew that I was in heaven. We picked up the usual suspects of veggies, greens, and berries with a flank steak, some heavely bread, cheese, and a lobster mushroom. Jon and I discussed the Seattle style of farmers market chic (a large handled basket) vs Brooklyn style graphic bags as I emptied my wallet and filled my bags.
We said goodbye (for now) to Seattle and made our way up Route 5 to Anacortes ferry terminal. Our ferry was 2 hours late so we had some time to kill. At first blush the ferry terminal is quaint but after about 10 minutes the shine is off the apple and it is quite obviously the Port Authority Bus Terminal of ferry terminals. It functional, outdated, and would be described as “quaint and charming” by a real estate listing. But the locals obviously knew how to enjoy themselves and pulled out folding chairs, blankets, beers and sandwiches and picnicked on the strips of grass and asphalt overlooking the Sound.
To amuse ourselves (since we didn’t have anything but raw meat and produce and a Volvo) we wandered into the little café and some bad sandwiches and enjoyed, in my opinion, two of the best mini cookies I have ever eaten.
The ferry ride was smooth and as Peter enjoyed his hard earned beer, I wandered the decks trying to stay out of the biting wind and get some pictures. This is exactly what I imagined it to look like, craggy islands spiked with pine trees, sail boats cutting across the water, and a few dramatic, snow capped peaks reminding me that it had been a wise choice not to bring anything sturdier than a running shoe. I’ll just say this and be clear, I really don’t like hiking uphill or actually doing anything uphill so just having running shoes means that I can’t get talked into hiking and that, to me, is a wise strategic choice.
The ferry takes about an hour and dropped us off in Orcas, which is a ferry terminal, small shop, and that’s about it. The drive to our cottage took us along the water, winding through small farmsteads, and through a few tiny marinas. This place isn’t remote or rural, its just very sparsly populated. We had lost cell service about 30 minutes into the ferry ride but Peter kept announcing the magical appearance and reappearance of the 3G network, which wouldn’t connect him with his email but would let him make a few phone calls.
After driving by our cottage a few times (hey look at those tourists in that giant white Volvo) we pulled in to discover a sincerely charming cottage on about 5 acres with a few other buildings, a view of the water, and a house dog (available for petting and catch whenever I have the time) name Quincy. I’m sure there will be many many pictures of Quincy.
I also noted that there were chickens. I actually squealed “Chickens” and Peter, being the one with a keener sense of how these things play out, sneared “chickens” and I think “you just wait”. That’s for day 2 though.
We got back in the car and headed to Eastsound, a town of about 10 shops all of which were charming, quaint, and overpriced and managed to grab a few essentials like olive oil, beer, and wine. My friend, who stayed her a few weeks ago told me that there were provisions on the island but I’m here to tell you, they are meager though their wine selection was plentiful and beer selection generously tilted towards local beers.
We finished the evening with a giant salad on our little deck, a glass of wine, and an early bedtime after a long day of traveling.
Just in case you think this is all a fairy tale, let me remind you of the chickens and, as an added bonus, randy burrows who seem to honk and bray in an attempt to tell the rooster “hey, its 5:30am give us a break”.
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