To say that our afternoon trip over to Bainbridge Island was spontaneous is an understatement. We spent a morning mooching our way around a few of the Seattle stores (Mr Kiwi bought a watch, I bought a Frappucino at the Starbucks next to Pike Place Market – thereby hopping the hour plus queues) and then I google searched ‘what to do in Seattle’. That’s how much planning we did.
Jumping aboard one of their commuter ferries was highly recommended (much like our day trip to the Gothenburg archipelago) and we handily timed a sandwich stop (thanks to the ferry timetables handily being available in the Googlemaps public transport route planner!) and before we knew it, we left the Seattle city skyline behind and enjoyed the brisk wind on our faces.
I think we enjoyed the 40-minute journey as much as the seagulls did, watching them glide, swoop and cut a wing through the currents caused by the ferry slipstream. I spent the journey with my nose over the edge of the handrail, watching the spray shatter against the hull and doing my very best to impersonate a Shih Tzu watching the world flash past.
Disembarking, we followed our noses and hopped onto the public wifi to track down beer, ice cream and cocktails.
I do have a little secret to admit – I was, sorry, still am most definitely a Twi-hard. A Twilight devotee with a penchant for glittering vampires (#TeamEdward) even after meeting the fabulous Taylor Lautner in person. And yes, I managed to squeak out a fan-girl ‘hi’ and nothing more.
Forks, the town where Stephanie Meyer based the books, was only a couple of hours’ drive over the other side of Bainbridge Island, back on the Washington mainland, but I’d been warned by friends that it’s a sleepy town that gets overrun with tourists who are bored fairly quickly. Unsurprisingly then, the local redwood trees that reached to the sky took me back to my teenage years glued to the Cinema screen, superimposed with superhuman vampires dashing through the canopy, and shapeshifting werewolves thudding through the forest floor.
It is a sleepy town, the rhythm dictated by ferry timetables and the seasons, where the locals know everyone and they spotted us daytripping tourists from a mile off.
Restoring my faith in humanity:
Restoring my faith in bar owners:
And quenching our thirst.
Dotted around the harbour perimeter we spotted an array of whimsical statues – featuring a Triceratops…
…and we found it a little hard to leave our island paradise and go back to the bright lights of the city, even as a sunset beckoned over the skyline.
In this dusky half-light, I admit to half hoping that a pack of Quilete shifters would run out from the treeline and dive into the still waters, but alas all we saw was a load of commuters sitting sleepily on the ferry foredeck. My hopes dashed as the sun set.
Have you ever travelled somewhere and felt immersed in scene that you had only ever imagined through book pages?
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