No More Driving On The Right

Transport of delight

The OG tour bus has rolled back into the city, latest stop Portland Oregon. The tour bus (Ford Focus) has been returned safely and unmolested to Avis after fourteen hundred miles of faithful service - BFP doesn't do downtown driving, it is safe for neither him nor the locals.

First impressions of Portland are favourable - we even had a taxi driver who was listening to the BBC, what a dude! BFP/OG and the tour groupie are shacked up in the uber trendy Inn at Northrup Station, so cool it is bordering on glacial. The room has two televisions (but no pool to throw them into) and a kitchen. Dig the vibe at Northrup Station .

But enough of Portand for that will surely follow. No I must boast (that is the only fair word) about the day OG and groupie had yesterday. We breakfasted of donuts, tea for her and coffee for him. We then set out with every intention of buying lunchtime provender from the artisan bakery in Yachats. It was closed and this was our first stroke of luck because it drove us into the arms of the retail giant that is Fred Meyer, Florence, OR branch. Shopping is something America does better than us - simply put there is nowhere in England where one can buy four 250 ml picnic cans of Californian pinot grigio (for $4.99 mark you), two quality sandwiches, A tub of varied olives and peppers, a tub of fresh fruit, and a University of Oregon teeshirt all in one place. With air conditioning that actually works and toilets (sorry restrooms) that are fit for use.

The drive to Florence was fortuitous because the views going South-bound on Route101 are even more stunning than those we had seen coming up the other way. The Oregon coast is indescribably awesome so I won't bother, I'll instead cull a couple of pictures from the old inter web thing and hope they give you a flavour. Put it this way, I'm relatively well travelled but, in the words of the song, I ain't never seen nothing like this. The first is of the Oregon Dune Belt; the second of the beach at the Muriel L. Ponsler Memorial Picnic Area  off 101. We walked for a mile in each direction and saw, in mid holiday season, only twenty living souls - and four of those were dogs. Muriel must have been some woman to merit a memorial like that.

Finally a word for a fine end to a fine day - dinner at Ona in Yachats was very much up to scratch: chicken which Mrs OG/Groupie described as fabulous; surf and turf for OG/BFP in which the turf was good and the surf divine. We will be back to Yachats and, given the journey from Brum, that's quite a promise and quite a recommendation of a heavenly spot on the map.