We were in Richmond, BC in January our guides (the stellar ladies of Richmond PR, thanks Kristen and Stacey!) took us to Mrs. Ma’s bubble waffle stand in the Parker Place food court. Mrs. Ma was quite the waffle show-woman, delighted to show off for us gringos. Plus, the waffles? Yummy. Warm, a little eggy tasting, and sweet and crunchy, nothing short of a perfect snack on a cold afternoon.… continued…
When I was 11 or 12 years old, I wanted nothing more than to be a marine biologist when I grew up. I’m a convinced that watching Jacques Cousteau on TV had a lot to do with this. I was completely fascinated by the undersea world, I wanted to go there, I wanted to see those brightly colored fishes in all their glory. We made lots of trips to California’s Monterrey Bay in the summer time — we’d look down into the tidepools at bright anemones and starfish and I wanted to know more.… continued…
We dropped the car at the dealer at about 10 am in the heart of Renton’s auto row. We hadn’t arranged for alternative transportation — we didn’t know how long it would take but there was no place we had to be. I’d checked the map earlier to find a place for coffee — we walked three blocks, crossing six lane arterials, passing the Honda dealer and the Saturn dealer and the Cadillac dealer to a tiny place called Espresso Daviso.… continued…
The first time we went back to visit my sweetie’s family on O`ahu (I had already met them on one of their visits to Seattle), we flew into Honolulu, picked up a rental car, and drove across the Ko`olau range to their home on the Windward Side. I was immediately invited to sit with her dad out on the lanai, where pupus would be served.
He handed me a set of disposable chopsticks (with a courteous question as to whether or not I was okay with chopsticks – which I was), and in front of us was a dish of ahi poke.… continued…
Typically, we blast through Bellingham, Washington, making no more than a coffee and bagel stop downtown to fortify ourselves for either the Canadian border crossing at Peace Arch or the bumper to bumper traffic between Everett and downtown Seattle. Chock full of coffee and carbs, we grip the steering wheel, navigate Interstate 5, and wonder if Bellingham doesn’t warrant a little more time someday.
It’s an only an hour and half away give or take a bit, from our home in Seattle, close enough for a motivated day trip.… continued…
