Yachats, Oregon

Pronounced 'Yah-hots' apparently, this coastal town (or probably more accurately a village) is simply gorgeous. There is sand and surf and the interior rises steeply away from the sea into forest. On the hills are stunning houses. We are staying at the idiosyncratic (you have to climb around the toilet to get into the shower) but definitely loveable Deane's Oceanfront Lodge just outside the town - it has its own path down to the beach and they have a free DVD library for the use of patrons and complimentary coffee and donuts (more local spelling) each morning. Yesterday the weather was milder than has been the norm but that made it nice for an exploration of the local coastline and was certainly not enough to keep me from my obligatory dip in the ocean - cold but great waves for body surfing. I missed having the girls with me so that we could have done some 'nutter running' which was our patented method of running into the oncoming tide heedless of the temperature before diving into the oncoming swell. Doing it alone would have felt wrong.

We have filled our last two evenings by watching Meryl Streep films from the library at reception, US television being dauntingly multifarious and unnavigable. The House of the Spirits tried to do too much, based on what I must assume is a sprawling novel by Isabel Allende. It also had the implausibility of Jeremy Irons as a Latin grandee. However the narrative string was arresting and it was worth staying to the end. Just. 5/10.

Last night's offering was rather better and I'm surprised that we had never come across it before. Marvin's Room is littered with luminaries - Streep, Diane Keaton, Leonardo DiCaprio and a bit part for Robert De Niro. It takes the dysfunctional family trope to laudable heights and has comedy and tragedy running together in believable balance. You are reminded just what a considerable screen presence DiCaprio possesses as his young self goes punch for punch with his elder cinematic co-stars. 7/10.

More walking today and I may even buy another teeshirt. Tonight we are dining out. The standards set by our experiences thus far are high but Ona looks to be Yachats' plushest destination and therefore promising. I will have to take great care in choosing which teeshirt to wear.

Welcome To The Hotel California, Briefly

We left Ashland behind us yesterday with good memories and then took a circuitous route to our latest stop so that we could say we have been to California. The mountains of Southern Oregon/ Northern California are spectacular, steep slopes dominated by what we botanists call bloody big trees. And after the mountains comes the coast - about which one can only say, bloody hell, or perhaps in the vernacular, awesome dude. Mile upon mile of pure Pacific Ocean, sometimes surmounted by cliffs and then by the Oregon dune belt. Also awesome was the pizza we had for lunch in the town of Brookings.

Globe on steroids?

Now we are in Yachats, Oregon, staying within a stone's throw (well perhaps a few throws of a stone) of the ocean and miles of flawless sand. But more of that later. I need first to divest myself of my thoughts on the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. We saw a fine production of Antony and Cleopatra in Ashland's Elizabethan Theater (there's that spelling thing again) and it made an interesting contrast with my beloved Globe back in London. The playing spaces are similarly configured though Ashland is grander. Both are open to the elements - elements which in Ashland's case had flash-flooded the town just three days before our arrival. Where the Globe makes few concessions to the creature comforts of the spectator (the discomfort is part of the fun) Ashland is far more concerned about its customers - there is legroom undreamt of in even the most modern British theatre (there's that spelling thing again) and the roof covers all but the stalls. Tellingly, no one stands up in Oregon. Thus Ashland is Elizabethan(ish) in its acting environment but doesn't leave you squirming as the drama unfolds. There is also a notable difference in how the stage is utilised. The Globe knowingly eschews modern usage - no electronic sound system for example. Ashland does use amplified effects to augment the play and even had electronic surtitles to tell us where each scene was set. None of this was objectionable because, as he generally does, the Bard brings you back to the play. The programme notes (Ashland's substantial programme is free to each playgoer - a nice touch) correctly described Antony and Cleopatra as Shakespeare's most cinematic play and this production raced along nicely. There were nice directorial touches where scenes were made to overlap as the separated principals saw each other in their thoughts. A very good night and here's a tip should you ever be in Ashland and want a drink and bite to eat before the play, either make a reservation in advance (there are three theatres in the Festival and therefore three audiences worth of people descending on a smallish town) or do as we did and go to the Redzone Sports Bar. There were sixteen screens showing baseball but most importantly it had clearly been discounted by theatre-goers as a suitable venue for pre-show drinks. It's actually fine and you'll get a seat and the obligatory swift service. I had deep-fried mozzarella cheese sticks and a pint of IPA. Which was nice.  

Oh Me Of Little Faith

I have made a habit of being overseas for defining parts of memorable test series with Australia. In 1977 I was camped at the snout of an unmapped glacier in Iceland and thus missed the return to test cricket of Geoff Boycott and the emergence of the force of nature that was Ian Botham. Four years later I was coaching basketball (yes I do know that sounds implausible, in fact risible) in Massachusetts when Botham almost single-handedly wrested the Ashes from Australia. Communications being what they then were we relied on World Service reports relayed from base camp in Iceland and in 1981 my mate JRS posted me the press cuttings which I would read aloud to my fellow English counsellors at Camp Half Moon.

Well here we go again but now the internet makes the scores readily accessible. Last night I shared with you my instinctive fear that England might snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. I woke today to find that Australia were already seven wickets down so my trepidation moved on to the Cardiff weather perhaps saving the Aussies. By the time I had finished a splendid breakfast the game had been won. Will my return home be a bad omen? If so I have decided where I am going to stay - at the Kriselle Cellars vineyard.Dave's Oregon Office

Terroir and tasting room

We discovered their sauvignon blanc last night and today we paid the vineyard a visit. We tasted: the 2014 sauvignon blanc (perhaps even more attention grabbing than the 2013 we had already encountered); the rose; a cab franc/malbec/cabernet sauvignon proprietary blend; the malbec; the cabernet sauvignon; and the tempranillo. All admirable but that sauvignon blanc is the star. It seems they can sell all they make this side of the pond and my internet explorations suggest no UK distribution. Which means we will have to live off the memory of their modern and friendly tasting room with its mountain views and fresh fired pizza. Just to round things off there was live blues music from Rogue Rage Duo (Big Will Macfarlane, bless him, would have loved it) and the retired gentleman who shared our table was the former Attorney General for Nevada, a job which entailed having armed guards. Now that's a real lawyer.

Tonight it is Antony and Cleopatra at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival which as any fule kno is Shakespeare's finest play so they better make a good job of it. All I have to decide is which teeshirt to wear for the occasion.

A New Discovery On The Oregon Trail

There are a lot of seemingly silly little things to love about America. The quality of the service (helpful but unaffected) is one I keep finding myself banging on about. But it's other stuff that makes you happy - the size of parking spaces (such that you can actually get out of your bloody car unlike your modern British multi-storey) and the general good manners on the freeway.

Go on you know it makes sense

And here's another reason to be cheerful - we've found an Oregon sauvignon blanc that stands up to the  New Zealanders. Ladies and gentleman the OG gives you - Kriselle Cellars Sauvignon Blanc 2013. Mr and Mrs OG found it on the wine list at the The Brickworks in Ashland and were so taken that they found a post-prandial offie (liquor store as the locals would have it ) for a second bottle which is being imbibed as OG himself types away in the salubrious confines of the Oak Hill B&B. It's only rock and roll but I like it, like it, yea, yea, yea.

The miracle that is the internet means that I can keep tabs on the cricket scores from home and I am slightly concerned about the triumphalist tone of the BBC coverage of the first test - clearly all has gone swimmingly thus far but please boys let's not count our chickens. I will log on tomorrow with trepidation.

The Wrong Side Of The Road

The big cities have been left behind and OG therefore trusts himself to get behind the wheel. Our transport of delight is a Ford Focus - an uninvolving vehicle if truth be told but automatic transmission is a decided benefit when you are trying your damnedest to stay on the right side of the road.

Base for the last few days has been Corvallis, Oregon, home of Oregon State University (Go Beavers!) and a delight. This town of fifty-six thousand souls has no fewer than seven artisan brew-pubs (there might be more in which case I apologise). We have drunk and eaten in three of them and would recommend all, but, drumroll, my favourite (marginally) is Flat Tail (beavers have flat tails - geddit?) Truckloads of beer to choose from plus monster portions of honest bar food. It goes without saying that service throughout the town has been uniformly excellent. Tomorrow will take us down Highway 5 to Ashland at the southernmost extreme of Oregon and the delights (hopefully) of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival.

To help me master this wrong side of the road stuff we took a motor tour of the Willamette National Forest yesterday. Oregon is implausibly stunning - big landscapes, big skies and big blue lakes. We hit the road again today and took in the Oregon Garden, eighty acres of flamboyant planting - the Oregon Garden .

Thus far I have bought three teeshirts. More will follow.

Jackson Pollock - Seattle Art Museum

So anxious was I to tell you how many bars I'd visited in Seattle that I omitted to mention the Seattle Art Museum. An interesting space with a growing and youthful collection. Student discount again allowed.

I think I get the point of Jackson Pollock. You have to see the paintings up close to appreciate the textures and layers. Seattle are justly proud of their freshly restored 1947 Pollock. The reproduction below does not do it justice of course.

A New Poem

Training Exercise (Amtrak Cascades 4 July 2015)

The Poem that is never read

Is locked and lost within my head

No verses that have run and fled

You'll have to have these ones instead.

I wrote it down some weeks ago

A villanelle with metric flow

There comes the pattern that you know.

I lost the pad I scrawled it in

Where I was starting to begin.

These rules are made to be broken.

. _  / . _  / . _  / . _