“There are pockets of time we can steal back from fate and they prove profoundly bright when polished.” – Old Sean
Stretching Layovers
This probably doesn’t come to a shock to anyone, but I spend a sizeable portion of my life flying around in airplanes.
As such, ticket foraging has become something of an art. I try to buy tickets between 11:00 PM and 2:00 AM. I also tend to search for deals with cookies turned off in anonymous mode. Additionally, I often try to buy tickets almost one month in advance. I’m careful to avoid clicking around too much, or the price rises. And of course, if there’s a finder program available, use it happily. And, most importantly, be okay with the rather ridiculous time discrepancies.
That last point has often given me extremely long, enjoyable layovers in other countries. I don’t mind buying flights during witching hours and extended layovers aren’t really a concern for me, particularly if they’re when a city is active.
Such excellence happened to me on my way to China. I flew out of Fairbanks to receive a ten hour layover in Seattle, from 6:00 AM to 4:00 PM. With so many hours available, I was eager to spend some time walking around.
Entering Seattle
I didn’t have a lot of time to plan my route, so I skimmed down Atlas Obscura, borrowed some advice from and exalted friend named Roy and prepped to wander the city.
Initially, my strides were pretty slow, as I insisted on bringing my backpack with me. However, I still got to see a goodly portion of the oddities in Seattle without too much hassle.
I started by taking the rail up to the University of Washington, following the easy, low biking trails along the northern side of Lake Union. I managed to track down the “Wall of Death,” a funny, slightly-ironic art structure designed to mimic the setup for motorcycle and small vehicle stunts. Ironically, a stone barrier was eventually erected around the artwork to stop skateboarders from colliding with it. Epically, I’m sure.
Next, I trudged off to Gas Works Park. Numerous boats and floating houses lounge along the shoreline, and the park itself has some very cool, artfully rusted industrial structures with ivy warping up the sides. Canadian geese plod along the green grass grounds, honking occasionally and liberally fertilizing the ground, as Canadian geese tend to do.
Such majestic, honking creatures, truly.
The Invasion
Now, for those of you who are unaware, Seattle is riled with an infernal infestation of delicious blackberries.
They hang ripe from roadsides and creep up from parks. Locals deem them a nuisance and often have programs designed to wrangle the vines. The invasive species has overtaken the countryside and side-streets of Summer Seattle, effectively choking out the local flora.
I was tempted to stop and pick some to eat, but apparently residue from the urban environment makes roadside blackberries slightly hazardous. However, blackberries found in parks are perfectly fine, a the city has laws against spraying pesticides on them. I found a thriving patch in a park and stuffed a handkerchief full to munch on while walking.
Next, I sought out the Fremont Troll, a climbing cement structure rising from the depths of an underpass, slowly overtaking a battered and slightly crushed VW under a long-fingered hand. Apparently, the troll has continuous layers of concrete added to it over the years to cover up graffiti damage. I found his eyes oddly tranquil while clambering around his shoulder.
Eventually, I followed the troll’s gaze south, stopping for a minute to see the signpost fondly named “The Center of the Universe.” At this point, after traipsing across Fremont Bridge, I stopped at a shore side bakery, getting myself a sandwich, banana, brownie and a lot of water.
Downtown City
Feeling chubby, I was ready to check out downtown Seattle. Lake Union Park and its museums are quite pretty, and I got slightly splashed by the summer kids flinging water about while they raced along the shore in canoe races.
Slightly further into the city, I found the Amazon Spheres, three glass balls filled to the brim with a living jungle. I poked my head in and saw a few birds flitting about above. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to work a desk job in that particular environment, but I can’t imagine jungle pigeons are much assistance.
Then again, the owls in Harry Potter put USPS to fictional shame, so what do I know?
Regardless of bird productivity, I kept walking, getting a chance to peek at the Giant Sequoia Tree of Seattle which practically dwarfs the buildings around it.
At some point during my walk, I also into a rather deranged homeless fellow, who was sporting a sign that had “White Racism” scrawled on it with dollar signs. He asked for a buck, I told him “Sorry, nope,” and a torrent of profanity spewed forth. None of it was especially creative, and there were enough words that I’m uncomfortable saying that I’ll leave it to a slightly-cynical imagination. I felt a bit better after that, as I wouldn’t give the schmuck a bent penny after that particular encounter. But I’m under the impression that he was more interested in yelling at white people than actually panhandling. Neither of which I’m very approving of.
It’s pretty in keeping with the world, to be honest. But at times like these, one should walk away, send a middle finger skyward and hope you’re the only one carrying a weapon. Or neither of you are.
Market Globs
Following a Roy’s advice, I made my way to Pike Place Market, which is a splendid little visit. They’ve got Butter Restaurants, Magic Shops, off-brand Odin and Thor busts, live music and most notably, a harrowing alley absolutely coated in chewed gum. The collaborative communal art piece, fondly known as Gum Wall, is splotched of more strung out color than my eyes can track. The alley itself is filled with people getting their selfie fix while standing in a mildly sickening aroma cloud of partially digested sugar. It’s pretty cool, and some people have used strands of gum to write odd symbols and uplifting letters.
It’s disgustingly compelling, at least.
With that brand of glory in my rearview mirror, I decided it would be wise to get back to the airport.
Flying international tends to be fraught with unpleasant little surprises, and China in particular is unconventionally strict and apt to keep the process slow.
This trip was no exception, as the plane’s electricity malfunctioned preventing liftoff. A rather long-winded and awkward pilot did his best to explain things, but we spent a couple of hours on the runway, sometimes without AC, sometimes being told to disembark, other times to shuffle back in, all while being passed dry snacks and water bottles.
But, all said and done, the Seattle Airport is a really nice one. Excellent facilities, meditation lounges, accommodating staff and gouging exchange rates from the ICE booths scattered about.
Anyway, I’m going to schedule myself a nap to sync up my time in Beijing. I’m confident in my ability to sleep sitting up, though I suspect part of the reason I don’t get neck cramps anymore is that the bones along my upper spine have fused into something grotesque and concerning.
Until I awaken,
Best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
Written August 1st 2019
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Ten years ago, I abandoned my military surplus store backpack for a Farpoint 40 Osprey Travel Pack. I’ve never replaced my bag since. The backpack has been with me around the world, through my departing Beijing and onwards through trips across Europe and South America. I have nothing but praise for Osprey Products.
