A day in Seattle

I’m heading to Beijing tomorrow, the start of a journey through Mongolia up to Lake Baikal in Siberia. I started the trip by a short hop to Seattle, where I spent the night at the Panama Hotel, located just a few blocks from Union Station, a grand relic of the glory days of travels by train. I would love to have done this trip without stepping on a plane, and even looked into the cost and time involved in going by freighter. In the end, the time away from work made that impossible to do. In an alternate universe I could travel as Mark Twain did when he circumnavigated the globe. In this universe, I cannot. So I take what I can get.

I’m sitting in a coffee shop in Seattle, charging my phone because the sole plug in the room last night was quite loose, and apparently my charge plug dropped out early in the night. It’s a quaint, old hotel on the upper floors of an old building, with a shared bathroom containing a clawfoot tub. My room has a sink in the corner, a broken down wardrobe, and you control the temperature by opening or closing the window. But it oozes character, and the bed was so comfortable I barely remember it. Oh, and it was fairly cheap as well.

I have a little work to finish up today, and a camera to purchase, then on to Vancouver via bus. I fly out of Vancouver early tomorrow to commence the unknown path- the one that draws me always.