We loaded Gina’s car with our luggage, which by now included a large packing case containing our motorcycle kit to be returned to the UK. Our first call was at the station to buy tickets to Vancouver (via Seattle), and then to Portland’s main Post Office.
We said our goodbyes and were now, perhaps for the first time, on our own. Having surprised the Post Office clerk with our packing case, we headed back towards the station. The train wasn’t due until late morning, so we had some time on our hands. We treated ourselves to a slap-up breakfast of pancakes and maple syrup at a frighteningly trendy eaterie, and then visited the Portland Leather Company.
Brigid had long admired Gina’s fringed leather chaps and jacket, and had only recently disposed of her ancient leather motorcycle jeans. Some shopping seemed in order. In the event, she rejected the fringed chaps in favour of some plain ones (looking forward to seeing how these will go down in London …) and a fringed leather vest, decorated with the Portland rose design.
The train journey was a revelation. Even in ‘coach class’, it was extremely comfortable. A film was shown on video, and each seat had access to an electric socket for laptop computers.
We arrived in Seattle a little to late to visit Hendrix grave. But our (rather seedy) motel was only a few minutes walk from the museum. It was just about to close, so we made do with a quick tour of the gift shop.
We had a disappointing dinner in an Irish bar/restaurant, a sister establishment to the excellent Kells in Portland.