Skip to main content

Spending a day off in Portland: a visual voyage.

A study in the red brick of Portland.
It has taken us a little while to get our footing here in Portland. In order to do grocery shopping we have found that there isn't an easy route to just go by a supermarket, but instead it becomes a meander around the peninsula and an exploration of the few small grocery stores. Regretfully these little shops are not all near one another and we have since devised a meandering route around town that begins in our area of large apartment complexes (a couple of large hotels converted to apartments). This town is full of restaurants, but since this town is based on tourism many of these restaurants aren't for the people who live here and less so for the pay that we make living here. After nine months we seem to have figured out a few holes in the walls of Portland though that go against this trend.
Omi's Coffee Shop. - Jessye reads from some Architectural Digests that were hiding under the table.
I think we have finally found our café in this town. On my many flâneries that I have taken since moving here I have walked by this one café only a few times as it is out of the way of almost everything, but since Jessye and I both had the day off we decided to go in and try it out. Since most of the cafés we have tried in this town (so far) have this strange hatred of Starbucks, but yet try their best to emulate it, the result is a chaotic mess of people not enjoying their drinks and treating the location as a college study hall. It is an eerie thing when coffee shops are full but silent because everyone is too busy with whatever they are doing on their laptop. Granted, there were people at Omi's too who were just on their laptops, but this place had so many nooks and crannies that there were also people having conversations. A house turned coffee shop. Not quite the PettiRosso in my heart, but there will only ever be one.
Abandoned building of historical significance next to the cruise ship docking area.
After our amazing start to the day we continued our intended errands. Jessye opened a bank account with a local credit union, and we briefly skirted around Old Port, trying not to get lost in shops for bourgeois tourists.
One of the small grocery stores we have found in Portland is an Italian market in the former Italian neighborhood. They have a small kitchen in the back where they make Sicilian slab pizza that they sell cheaply with free coffee. Which we have found to be great to snack on before we do some shopping. They have a very nice selection of random European foods. Mainly Italian things, but there are a few other European countries represented as well. One of our favorite new finds has been Italian ketchup which is spicier than the American counterpart.
Hidden parking garages and buffed graffiti.
Another of our favorite grocery stores is Hong Kong Market, which now that it is starting to get warmer again it is once again in a distance for us to be able to walk to.
Hong Kong Market.
It is a winding maze of items with maybe some broken English sticker added on top of the original ingredients. The first time I have found frog's legs.
Our latest surprise find from Hong Kong Market was a new plant which needs to not be in the sun (which is perfect for our apartment with its only couple hours of sun in the morning).
Our new plant hanging out on the entrance table to our apartment.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Windy Coffee. [part 1]

Fulya was looking at my sketchbook the other day and remarked that she liked the random sketch that I had made of some girl that I saw walking along with a little plastic cup of coffee during the wind storm a few weeks past. As I still have some small pieces of very good watercolor paper [that I had sized to be used for some small frames I had collected but did not have anything to put in them yet], I thought that perhaps I could transfer a little sketch to a little piece of paper to play with techniques. Namely the layering of water colors. Something that I know I have been working on a lot, but practice makes perfect. I also wanted to see how using my new mechanical pencil filled with blue graphite would work in hiding my lines as I initially worked. I forgot to take a picture of the transition between not having the girl inked at all to inking her and starting the background. I was having a hell of a time trying to figure out a setting in which to put her. At first I was th
French underworld tattoos at the turn of the century. The man sports a tattooed mustache intended to foil the prohibition of facial hair in the Foreign Legion. The World of Tattoo by Maarten Hesselt van Dinter. I can only dream of being anywhere near that combination of badass and crazy. Though at that point the Foreign Legion was probably still the best place for criminals to get their record cleaned so perhaps he is as well quite legitimately scary upon all of that. I find myself flipping back to this page time and time again to romanticize the French underground from around 1900. Give him an accordion, a beret, and some braces. Prostitutes who could easily kill you if you ever come up short and tattoo the names of their ‘actual’ lovers between their breasts, close to their heart. Tattoo ‘Je mother fucking t’aime’ in a tattoo cursive along my collar bones.

The adventure continues.

So, I haven't written much lately.. but from the doldrums of the end of semester I then entered a time period of a flânerie across France. A last hurrah. Jessye came to visit again and the tiny room was packed up all into a few suitcases, the largest being named Bertha, and Rennes was left behind, although not before having a picnic in Thabor for the last Saturday market... We got the essentials. Madeleines (where as I reached the front of the line the vendor greeted me with a question of, '6 madelines?') with a few more of that vendor's delicious delights, like those bite size rolls with jams and caramel and chocolate.. Then of course the impossible cow cheese that acted like goat cheese and was rolled in Provencal  herbs. And of course a baguette from the amazing bakery covered in tiles. A trip to Thabor with Jessye was never complete without a stop at the aviary. And some people watching. A mohawked punk rocker walks a little girl hand in hand through the park.