Peace and relinquishment seeps from the surf into the streets, enveloping natives and newcomers into the arms of it’s two-hundred year Scandinavian history.
Kudos to you, Danish Maid Bakery, and your 25 cent lemon pockets of sheer wonder. . . and your butter bars. Oh, and the macaroons.
And that shortbread that you’ve made there since butter was invented. The sense memory took me back three years to when I first experienced four simple joys for a buck.
Thanks also going out to the folks at the Columbian Café. For your garlic, jalapeño, pepper and who-knows-what-else homemade jellies for the toast.
And for keeping it kitsch-less but still artsy.
Oh, and for the amazing breakfast burrito with the super-smoked cheddar. Who’s your daddy?
Mr. Hotel Elliott with your motto of ‘wonderful beds’ emblazoned throughout (including the floor of the semi-working elevator); we slept well. So well, I sneaked in a nap before checkout at 1.
And thanks for the late checkout.
This is our first visit here in three years since traveling the Columbia River as singers on numerous cruises. Each Friday, we’d stop in Astoria, Oregon to spend an afternoon soaking in the lovely that is this town.
Memories.
I suspect Sarah and I will come back here from time to time. We’ll bring a few more wrinkles with each new visit. And that makes me very, very happy.
We’ll never stop revisiting the old, and we’ll always experience something new: this is the way to create memories.
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| Sarah admires the Columbian Cafe–Astoria, Oregon |
