Day 8: And down the Man-Made Hole we go…

Yes, we really are under the ground

Alice was lost and bewildered precisely because she went down a hole without a tour guide. Fortunately, Seattle’s Underground Tour at the Pioneer Square not only came with a tour guide, but a quirky sarcastic tour guide at that.

But wait… 15 feet below the surface. 90 minutes of history. Not exactly my idea of “fun”.

I was never excited about history lessons. My earliest memory goes something like this:

A grade three classroom at Pratt Memorial High School in Calcutta. Little Mrs. D’souza teaching us about Harshavardhana (or, better known as Harsha), a king who ruled North India in the middle of the 6^th century. Me in my white shirt and green tunic uniform sitting inconspicuously in the corner, making silly rhymes to kill time.

But this underground tour came with the “untold” stories of the founding fathers of Seattle. A city that burned down to the ground once and was built twice over. A city whose failed sanitation system had the streets flooded with faeces. A city whose greedy mayor was more concerned about sucking out money from its people rather than remedy the situation. And, ironically, was elected mayor yet again.

Let’s just say this was a history lesson that did not have me day-dreaming.

The brainchild of Bill Speidel, this tour started in 1954 as an attempt to prevent the destruction of historical buildings around Pioneer Square. Speidel was onto something, as this tour is currently one of the highlights of Seattle.

But history or no history, when the time was up, and the tour guide led us out of the musty underground filled with the ghosts and memories of a forgotten era, I was happy to be back in the real world.

Yes, Alice, you have my sympathies.

Photographs: Copyright Sanchari Sur

Under the ground...

A "Crapper" (that's how they were marketed back in the days)

Watch Your Step

Day 7: “Material Girl” Goes Shopping

 ‘Cause we are living in a material world
And I am a material girl
You know that we are living in a material world
And I am a material girl – Madonna, “Material Girl”, 1985.

When I first heard Madonna’s song “Material Girl” at the age of 12, I was clueless as to what she was harping about. I don’t consider myself the proverbial material girl. You won’t see me jumping on the ever-changing fashion bandwagon and throwing out half my closet every season.

Yet, being a Canadian, resisting the allure of shopping in the States is futile.

It’s no secret that Canada has a smaller market, higher taxes and duties on imported goods, and larger profits. Where do the consumers go? Across the border, of course. Shopping beyond the border is what we dream of. The latest fashions at lower prices can be quite a drug.

Even then, Canada’s government has Canadians in a tight leash.

Only $50 leeway is allowed, if you stay for 24 hours beyond the border. $400, if you spend 48 hours.

The best thing to do is to actually go on a holiday, spend 48 hours, and shop.

So, this material girl – only under the occasional circumstance of being a Canadian in the States – went shopping with crisp $20s rustling in her purse asking to be spent. I always say that if you are a Canadian in America, do as the Canadians do.

 Not going would have been a cardinal sin.

To know more about “Why Canadians Shop in America“, read this article by Diane Brady.

Day 6: A Walk to Remember

The Water

Having driven down in a rented car from Vancouver to Seattle, it makes complete sense driving down to the Waterfront for a relaxing evening. It is possibly the smartest move for the day. For more than one reason:

1. I am tired
2. I want to click some good photos
3. I love the smell of salt in the air

Unlike Toronto downtown, getting a parking spot near the Waterfront is as easy as saying “boo!” to a goose (from a distance, of course, lest it chases you; but I digress…). There is an overpass  (referred to as the  “viaduct” by the locals) right near the Waterfront under which there are rows after rows of parking spots. And the best part? It’s free after 6! Tell me of one free parking spot in downtown Toronto, and I will take you out for ice cream. Promise.

Apart from tons of places to eat and curio shops to spend hours at, the Waterfront is cluttered with scenic views of the water, ferries and moored yachts.

With the sun just an hour from sinking and the cool air playing hide-and-seek with your hair, walking along the Waterfront is ideal for unwinding after a long drive. And when hunger calls, I will step into Fisherman’s Restaurant on Pier 57 for some hot steaming fresh seafood.

Care to join?

Photographs: Copyright Sanchari Sur

Under the Viaduct, Seattle

A view of the city from the Waterfront

A Bookworm's Haven, Waterfront, Seattle

The Dusk

West Coast Tales: An Introduction

You shake your head in disbelief and stare at the ticket. Somehow that elusive holiday that you have been chasing all summer is finally within your grasps.

You look at your packed bags, mentally checking to see whether you have taken everything. Suddenly, you remember that you have forgotten your iPod and rush upstairs to get it. It will be a long flight and you don’t want to be stuck listening to crying babies.

As the cab pulls away from your house, you let out a little sigh, pinpricks of excitement finally flooding your senses. It had begun. You can’t believe this was finally happening!

You are at the airport. Your bags have been checked in. You have been through the security, and now it was just waiting for the call to board. You tap your foot in beat to “Suno Aisha”, feeling almost as confident and beautiful as Sonam Kapoor in Aisha.

You spy your fellow passengers around you through languorous eyes. The middle aged man in the red tee holding his wife’s hand. The little boy tugging at his sister’s hair, making her cry and his mother yell. The newlywed couple, with the shy wife too abashed to look at her husband directly. You smile, lost in your Aisha world.

Finally, you are on the plane. You have the aisle seat, just the way you like it. Your companion is a tiny old lady who you know will fall asleep as soon as the plane takes off. You are happy as you are not good at small talk, especially with strangers.

As the plane rushes down the runway, with the increasing roar in your ears, you are teetering on the edge of slumber. And, as Abhijit Pohankar comes on with his “Piya Bavari”, you have fallen off the edge, blissfully unaware of the baby that begins to cry.

The following blog posts titled, “West Coast Tales”, will trace my 8 day trip to Victoria, Vancouver and Seattle (in that order). This is my first attempt at travel writing. So, bear with me. Please.