Day Nine: On My Own
Erp caught the bus to the airport at 10am, leaving me with Seattle all to myself for a full day. I went over into the Queen Anne district to pick up a thank-you for Peggy's hospitality, came back, and hooked into my eternal traveling/walking partner: my mp3 player. I caught the #13 down the hill, transferred to the #8, which I had noticed the previous day went to Capitol Hill.
Before leaving the apartment that day, I did a search online for two things: a great beer bar and a great burrito. The burrito came first, and I was just about to give up looking when I spotted it, while on the phone with Carl to get directions. Bimbo's Bitchin' Burrito Kitchen sticks out like a sore thumb in its slightly distressed surroundings, with its bright colors and always moving front door.
Online, people had reviewed the place with lukewarm to glorious praise, but they all agreed that the service was terrible, snotty, and unpleasant. Some had even said that the uppity service was, "part of the experience." I didn't find this to be true at all. Everyone I talked to was really gracious and friendly. They even dropped what they were doing to thank me as I left. The burrito was so-so, but that was because it needed sour cream, more cheese, lettuce, and guacamole. They used shredded chicken, though, which I always see as a mistake.
From Bimbo's, I started walking, listening to music, and taking pictures. I let gravity guide me, and rolled downhill into Downtown, and more familiar surroundings. The next place I wanted to go, called Beveridge Place Pub, is located really far away, in West Seattle, but came highly recommended on Beerfly as a great place to get a pint. Their website instructed me to take the #54 right to their front door. I reached a stop for the #54, and found that it wouldn't be along for another 25 minutes. So I did what I do in Kansas City when the bus is going to be a while. I walked. I kept walking for perhaps two hours until I realized that I was not only lost(which is fine, really. What difference does it make?), but I was well off the bus line.
After about five or six miles of walking, I came upon a stop for a bus that would drop me about a mile away from my destination, and that was a good enough stop for me. I got on the #21, and after a short while, I realized that if I had walked myself the whole way to the bar, it'd have been well after dark by the time I got there. Seattle is big. It has a very attractive tall downtown, and a smattering of dense neighborhoods, but for the most part, it's just miles and miles of houses. The overall density didn't appear to be that much greater than KC.
Anyway, I walked in the bar, and it turned out that I was the first customer of the day.
The Beveridge Place Pub is an excellent bar. Their tap selection, while not vast or numerous, is still outstanding. No "Big Three" beers, or even PBR were present. The customers slowly filtered in, and it was apparent that they are all beer-lovers, and know their stuff. Dennis behind the bar was able to make recommendations and excellent conversation in an enthusiastic manner the whole time. Kelly sat beside me, and started talking about Seattle, the bar, the owners Gary and Terri, and various beer-powered topics.
Word got out among the regulars that someone from Kansas City had made a special trip just to try out their bar, and I had no trouble starting up conversations for the rest of the time I was there. I missed the bus as I was tabbing out, so Dennis poured me another beer on the house. Gary, the owner, came over and talked with me for about a half an hour, despite the fact that he was off the clock, and there with his friends. Excellent, wonderful bar. You should visit, whoever you are.
I got on the bus after about four hours at the Beveridge Place Pub, and took it back downtown, where I tried out the Pike Brewery. I sat at the bar, next to an eighty-something who couldn't wait to tell me about his exploits in the Army Air Corps. We talked about World War II for perhaps an hour, before I paid my tab and left. I went back up the hill on the #13, and had some dinner at the 5 Spot, talking with locals about the Mariners.
From there, I walked back to the apartment. It was only 9:30pm, but I was bushed, and too dizzy to keep drinking by myself in a strange city. I was asleep by 11pm.
Erp caught the bus to the airport at 10am, leaving me with Seattle all to myself for a full day. I went over into the Queen Anne district to pick up a thank-you for Peggy's hospitality, came back, and hooked into my eternal traveling/walking partner: my mp3 player. I caught the #13 down the hill, transferred to the #8, which I had noticed the previous day went to Capitol Hill.
Before leaving the apartment that day, I did a search online for two things: a great beer bar and a great burrito. The burrito came first, and I was just about to give up looking when I spotted it, while on the phone with Carl to get directions. Bimbo's Bitchin' Burrito Kitchen sticks out like a sore thumb in its slightly distressed surroundings, with its bright colors and always moving front door.
Online, people had reviewed the place with lukewarm to glorious praise, but they all agreed that the service was terrible, snotty, and unpleasant. Some had even said that the uppity service was, "part of the experience." I didn't find this to be true at all. Everyone I talked to was really gracious and friendly. They even dropped what they were doing to thank me as I left. The burrito was so-so, but that was because it needed sour cream, more cheese, lettuce, and guacamole. They used shredded chicken, though, which I always see as a mistake.
From Bimbo's, I started walking, listening to music, and taking pictures. I let gravity guide me, and rolled downhill into Downtown, and more familiar surroundings. The next place I wanted to go, called Beveridge Place Pub, is located really far away, in West Seattle, but came highly recommended on Beerfly as a great place to get a pint. Their website instructed me to take the #54 right to their front door. I reached a stop for the #54, and found that it wouldn't be along for another 25 minutes. So I did what I do in Kansas City when the bus is going to be a while. I walked. I kept walking for perhaps two hours until I realized that I was not only lost(which is fine, really. What difference does it make?), but I was well off the bus line.
After about five or six miles of walking, I came upon a stop for a bus that would drop me about a mile away from my destination, and that was a good enough stop for me. I got on the #21, and after a short while, I realized that if I had walked myself the whole way to the bar, it'd have been well after dark by the time I got there. Seattle is big. It has a very attractive tall downtown, and a smattering of dense neighborhoods, but for the most part, it's just miles and miles of houses. The overall density didn't appear to be that much greater than KC.
Anyway, I walked in the bar, and it turned out that I was the first customer of the day.
The Beveridge Place Pub is an excellent bar. Their tap selection, while not vast or numerous, is still outstanding. No "Big Three" beers, or even PBR were present. The customers slowly filtered in, and it was apparent that they are all beer-lovers, and know their stuff. Dennis behind the bar was able to make recommendations and excellent conversation in an enthusiastic manner the whole time. Kelly sat beside me, and started talking about Seattle, the bar, the owners Gary and Terri, and various beer-powered topics.
Word got out among the regulars that someone from Kansas City had made a special trip just to try out their bar, and I had no trouble starting up conversations for the rest of the time I was there. I missed the bus as I was tabbing out, so Dennis poured me another beer on the house. Gary, the owner, came over and talked with me for about a half an hour, despite the fact that he was off the clock, and there with his friends. Excellent, wonderful bar. You should visit, whoever you are.
I got on the bus after about four hours at the Beveridge Place Pub, and took it back downtown, where I tried out the Pike Brewery. I sat at the bar, next to an eighty-something who couldn't wait to tell me about his exploits in the Army Air Corps. We talked about World War II for perhaps an hour, before I paid my tab and left. I went back up the hill on the #13, and had some dinner at the 5 Spot, talking with locals about the Mariners.
From there, I walked back to the apartment. It was only 9:30pm, but I was bushed, and too dizzy to keep drinking by myself in a strange city. I was asleep by 11pm.
1 comment
Amy (Stepmom) interjected:
Hi John,
Sounds like a great trip! You didn't run into Rachel Ray did you? She does one of those cooking shows and she's always visiting interesting places and finding good deals on food.
Amy
Hi John,
Sounds like a great trip! You didn't run into Rachel Ray did you? She does one of those cooking shows and she's always visiting interesting places and finding good deals on food.
Amy
3:05 PM, Sep 7, 2006
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