Patagonia Pete

After pushing off late from the hotel, I was directed to Point Hudson Cafe for breakfast and thank you John for recommending it. John was the owner/manager of the Palace Hotel. Lovely location and the breakfast was lovely too. Here’s a photo of the cafe.

That’s it in the distance.

It’s odd cycling around here. It’s beautiful, but the small hills are murder. I’ve pushed my bike more in the last hundred miles than I ever did in the thousand through Alaska and the Yukon. Short sharp shocks of vertiginous torture. And no one cheering me up the ascents. Hah! Those Tour de France Johnnies have it easy, I tell you. I may buy myself a yellow or green jersey, just to lift my spirits. And a ‘sports’ massage, perhaps!

I lunched at Port Gamble on chicken salad and fruit. The fact that the fruit was on the same dish came as a bit of a surprise. I should be used, by now, I suppose, to having odd combinations of sweet and savoury piled on the same plate, but really, chicken and strawberries? Or cheese and melon. Is there some culinary joke I’m missing here? I managed to separate the two, but why should I have to. Just bring them to me on separate plates. Separated by several minutes. Separately.
And this Monty Python moment made me laugh even more…

A whole stack of conversation cards. No questions on the Meaning of Life as far as I could see.

After an uneventful ferry trip to Edmonds on the mainland, I booked into the Best Western hotel right next to the ferry terminal. Might as well stay here ‘cos I’m going back the same way tomorrow. Dash the expense, it’s convenient.

It’s a small town, and the Main Street is full of pretty little eateries and knick-knack shops. Obviously a holiday town. They also have a small cinema which I suspect mostly acts as an art house, but not at the moment. No, it too has succumbed to the might of Harry Potter. Like most of the cinemas on the planet, I suspect. This author, too must admit to succumbing to the might of Harry Potter! Look, I’m traveling alone and I like a bit of popcornyness as much as the next chap! A single male traveller of a certain age must get used to the inevitable questioning looks he attracts when doing certain things normally associated with people in even numbers. This goes double if he wants to go to the cinema. Even more so if he wants to see a Harry Potter movie. So one must slip on the thick-skinned suit and get ready with the ‘cycling through the Americas’ explanation should anyone actually ask. They won’t. They’ll just look at you when you’re not looking. When they think you’re not looking. And at best they think he’s just a lonely man, at worst, well you know what the worst is. There’s no real way to non-verbally reassure parents that you’re just there for the movie and have absolutely no interest in their kids beyond a normal, extra-paternal protection. Unless of course the little beggars don’t stop screaming and kicking the back of the seat! Then it’s open season. The Glorious Twelve year olds will be shot on sight! Fetch me my Purdeys!

I liked the film, by the way. Well done Chris, the titles looked great.

Pip pip
Love
Pete