Seattle

I knew that Seattle was by the sea, with many lakes around it and an endless stretch of rugged coastline. I knew about the Space Needle, the cool weather, the mixed population, grunge and much more. But what I didn’t know is what deeply impressed me.

Yes, I’m still going to San Francisco. But the topography there will have a hard time impressing me. Megan lives pretty much on a level with the top of the Space Needle, on the highest mountain, just 2 km from the city centre. The roads are tiny, often single-lane. There is a tree in the centre of every junction. The gradients are worrying. I needed two pressure equalisations on the way into town.
That’s probably why I haven’t seen a wheelchair or a fat person yet. I wish I had 12cm high heels for the climbs. But unfortunately they’re not available anywhere in 47.

The houses on the hills are each unique in their own right. But as a whole, they form a beautiful ensemble. Individuality is not only expressed in the choice of impossible door and window combinations, as in Munich Neuperlach. It is expressed in every single part. This creates a unique, harmonious whole. Many alternatives live here, the neighbourhood is threatened by property sharks. High-rise buildings against single-family homes with a maximum of two storeys. I hope for the best and fear for Duckburg on the hill.

Everything is a colourful mix: crack dealers next to a church next to an election studio next to a music studio next to a family home. In the supermarket, you can buy around 200 different things in jars to pack yourself alongside the usual: cereals, dried fruit, coffee, nuts, flour, spices and tea. It takes me almost an hour to buy something that would have taken me five minutes at home. And every new smell is inspiring. I cook twice and am delighted that Megan likes it.

After a day’s rest, I borrow Megan’s bike and ride to Discovery Park. It’s raining. And the mountains are hell, especially if you keep getting lost because you don’t have a map. But no journey is in vain. Discovery Park is a Pacific foggy jungle, completely lonely and deserted and yet just 4 km from the city centre – measured horizontally. At the lighthouse, a stray marmot whistles at me.

On the way back, I pass Pike Street Market, the purest hippy hallodrio with all kinds of nice little shops. There are a few dark corners around it. Dealers go about their business, Prada dandies pass right by. The most colourful contrasts in the smallest of spaces, everywhere. Tom Morello from Rage Against the Machine is playing at the Crocodile Club tonight. Unfortunately sold out, of course with an entrance fee of $16.

The most impressive thing of all is my host Megan. She’s done so much, experienced so much, achieved so much. Music, writing, cafe, management, consulting, travelling. And as grounded as a 500-year-old oak tree, as sure-footed as a 1.5-mile coal train in the Sand Hills. Great without any hint of megalomania. Incredible combination. For the first time in a long time, I feel really small at 1.93 metres. But: it doesn’t bother me. After all, mountains are big.