Walking Seattle

When my friend Violeta visits me, we walk.

In San Francisco this means we cut across the leafy green of Golden Gate Park and wander down Clement Street, past Chinese delis and restaurants, climbing the hills of Pacific Heights with their grand homes and even grander bay views. We stop in shops as our fancy takes us, snack as needed, and afternoon usually finds us in North Beach. We have a final wander through Chinatown, past the glitzy department stores of Union Square, and down to Market Street where we take the tram back to my neighborhood. That night we go to the spa at Kabuki Springs in Japan Town, have noodles for dinner, and fall happily into bed. To spend a day with a friend I love, exploring a city I adore, is one of my very favorite things.

When Violeta came to visit me in Seattle, earlier this summer, I was determined that we have a day of walking as well.

We started in my neighborhood and climbed up the backside of Capitol Hill. San Francisco may be famous for it’s steep streets, but Seattle is no slouch in that department either.

We walked past my very favorite café. We’d be back to eat there later.



At the top of the hill there is a small pocket park that offers a view across the waters of Lake Washington and eastward to the Cascade Mountains, still snowy and white.



Then we wander through Volunteer Park and catch our first glimpse of the Space Needle across the reservoir. There’s a museum here in this park, and a conservatory of flowers, and while it’s hardly on the same scale as Golden Gate Park, I do love it. This is the park I walked to this winter, trying to catch the last bits of sunlight when darkness fell far too early, the days much shorter than I’ve ever experienced.



Then we wandered down 15th Avenue, the street that most reminds me of my neighborhood back in San Francisco. There are cafes and restaurants and a good video store and the feeling of a real, little bustling neighborhood.

Walking down from 15th to Broadway, we catch a glimpse of downtown, the Space Needle, and the snowcapped Olympic Mountains in the background. These are the Seattle views that make me swoon just a little, catching them as they come, unexpected and glorious.



(Although, if there ever was a city that would benefit from burying their power wires, it's this one.)

Our first real stop of the day is Vivace, the venerable, old coffee shop housed in a brick building off Cal Anderson Park. This place is a coffee-lover’s dream, and even though I don’t drink coffee I love to come here. You can feel the history of Pacific Northwestern coffee brewing here—and they have a drink called the Sweet Stephanie that’s Earl Grey tea steeped in steamed milk and slightly sweetened that makes me very happy (yay, I get foam too!).



They take their foam very seriously at Vivace.



I was sad to see the sign that Vivace would be moving this summer. The old brick building is being torn down to make way for the new light rail system. The baristas I talked to were happy not have to deal with ancient and quirky digs for much longer. The new location is on the ground floor of a condominium complex and to me this seems somehow ignoble for the venerable old café. But time moves on, I guess, and I am looking forward to the expanded public transport (light rail to the airport—yes, please).

Then we walk downhill, past the shops and old brick apartments of lower Capitol Hill and through the downtown area, until we reach the foot of Pike Street and what locals just call “The Market.” Have I mentioned how much I love that one of Seattle’s top tourist sites is an old food market?

Of course, being one of Seattle’s top tourist sites means the market is swarmed with visitors all summer long, taking their picture in front of the now famous sign.



They crowd around the “flying fish” stand, where seafood has been elevated to a performance art and the guys working there (and now one girl) toss huge fish back and forth to the delight of visitors.



There’s no lack of seafood around here.



And other food as well.



Cookware, too. This is the first Sur La Table store in the country.



At this point we decide to stop for lunch. It’s a hot day and sitting at an outside table on one of the narrow alleyways that thread though the market area sounds just about perfect.



Also perfect were my friend Violeta’s fries, which she kindly let me steal off her plate (thanks, Vi!).



After lunch we wandered down to Seattle’s newest tourist site—the Olympic Sculpture Park. I can’t tell you how much I adore this place. I’m delighted that, when a large parcel of prime waterfront property came available, it was turned into an art park, free and open to the public (thank you Seattle Art Museum and Trust for Public Land). I have to believe that in most cities that site would have ended up as expensive office buildings or luxury condos.



Here’s to new and old Seattle.



I have to admit, I am also quite fond of the chairs. On a sunny day, it’s one of the nicest places to hang out.



The sculpture park connects to the waterfront and a walking path that continues down, past more art installations, along Elliott Bay, with the peaks of the Olympics in the background.

Can you imagine what those big boats are doing?



They are lined up, waiting for this—the grain terminal.



This is the machine that loads the grain—grown in Washington, Montana, North and South Dakota, Idaho, Nebraska, Kansas, Minnesota, Utah, Colorado, and Oregon—onto boats bound for far off ports in Asia and South America. Seattle has been shipping out grain since 1890, when the first boatload of wheat left Seattle bound for homes and bakeries in Cork, Ireland (the beginning of the global economy, perhaps?). If you happen to eat a slice of bread in Tokyo or Taipei, there's a chance that wheat came through Seattle.

(Need I mention, it’s operated by Cargill?)

We cut through the neighborhood of Lower Queen Anne and over to another body of water—Lake Union. Here is one of my favorite places in Seattle, the Center for Wooden Boats. For me there is such beauty and simplicity in the lines of a wooden boat. Just looking at them makes me happy.



And there are cute flower girls running about, from a wedding taking place next door.



We make our way around the east side of Lake Union, passing float planes (the kind that can take a girl to the island, an idea that delights me to no end).



And sailboats, bound for Lake Washington, which is where we started our journey this morning.



We walk and talk and discover corners of this town that I’ve never seen before. I share this place with my friend and it becomes somehow more my own, as I relax into the slow charm of this water-bound city. The sun begins to set behind the snowcapped Olympic Mountains, behind the deep waters of the Puget Sound, and the day draws to a close—this day, this place, made even more beautiful by being shared.



Of course, after twelve miles of walking, our tooties are toast. Lucky for us, there is also a spa in the area. We head off to soak our feet in some very hot water.

Now, if only I knew of a good noodle place around here...