In which the language of coffee is not universal

I woke early today, got dressed and walked straight out to the bus depot.  Today was Fremont Day!jumped on the 41.  Three fare enforcers, looking rather a lot like police swaggered around the bus. An unfortunate fare evader climbed on board.  To his credit, he held his own for a while, pretending to look for this or that special pass or ticket. Eventually he ran out of pockets and excuses and the three enforcers  escorted him off the bus at the next stop.


Somehow I had caught the wrong bus. I worked it out before it was too devastating to my hopes and dreams for the day and hopped off with directions from the driver about the right bus to catch,

After waiting a bit at the bus stop I decided to hoof it the rest of the way.

The houses in the neighbourhood looked just like the beautiful homes where I stayed with Sheri in Victoria, but here the lawns and gardens were not neat or manicured.


 Long grasses, creeping vines and overgrown masses of lavender crept from the front gardens into the sidewalks, adding a whimsical touch to the place.


I walked uphill, climbing more stairs…



….and  then came out into a community garden.  The sprinklers sprayed refreshing water over healthy vegetables. A lady bent over with her baskets, selecting produce. The sign declared that this community garden is protected by the Fremont Troll.


Woohoo! I was close to the troll!  I ran down under the bridge where the troll kept watch.  We bonded.




I was a little early for the Fremont Sunday Markets but I sat close by and read a book until it officially opened.  Markets interest me but I didn’t buy anything besides breakfast.  It was 10:40 in the morning so my tummy dictated that I eat a small naan.


My tummy also dictated that I quench my thirst immediately and the closest place was a Starbucks.  I am so disappointed in myself that in the city of good coffee, I had my first coffee at a Starbucks.  Sorry EVERYONE.

I carefully tried to explain exactly the coffee I wanted to the girl behind the counter.

Just a double shot with cold milk over it and some ice.

I pointed at the large sized drink on the menu.  That- with no sugar syrup.

Next minute I get a drink for ‘Mkchelle’.  A tiny cup, not even their regular small cup!  It had a double shot, sure, but just a drop of milk drizzled over like a garnish and the rest of the tiny cup was ice.

Back in line I got, needing to rectify the situation.  I was about to walk from Fremont to Pike Place Markets for goodness sakes. Sustenance was required!

I explained that I wanted a large cup with more milk; happy to pay extra.

No, it wouldn’t be extra, she assured me.

Next minute ‘Mkchelle’ was called again.  Basically the guy had upturned my puny drink into a Venti cup and just added MORE ice.

I didn’t take it.

I was in shock.

I just looked at it.

‘So….more milk?’ he had the decency to ask.


I had decided to walk back to Pike Place Markets.  It took over an hour but the paths were easy and I enjoyed every step in the sunshine. 

The Fremont Bridge going back down.



 THe weather was perfect.  Not hot, not cold, the most perfect still weather ever.


 I arrived at the Markets in time for lunch.  The Pike Place Chowder lines were nuts so I postponed that taste sensation.


I lined up for a bowl of Beechers mac ‘n’ cheese.  I chose the marriacha version; TexMex-flavoured with a hint of chilli.



My beverage of choice was taro bubble tea.


It was refreshing but not nearly as delicious as Lolo and Lola’s.

I came home and posted yesterday’s blog post.  After showering  in the low- shower time in the hostel I headed out to the Harley Davidson shop.

The shortcut I took turned out to be gum alley.  It is pretty close up…



but I never want to be in close proximity to so much saliva again.

I touristed my way along Elliot Bay.

At 5 I ate dinner #1- fish and chips. 


The fish was not great and  I didn’t eat the chips because I was saving room for dinner #2.


A 2 kilometre trek brought me to a much- hyped game store that turned out to sell only a few games and housed dozens of concentrating gamers who didn’t seem inclined to help me in my quest to buy a great board game.  Waste of time.

Dinner #2 was ????( drum roll)

Ice cream!!! At Salt and Straw, obviously.

This time I had my old favourite from yesterday: Beecher’s cheese with peppercorn toffee.  I married it with a scoop of almond brittle with salted ganache.  The ganache was dark chocolate and a little bitter.  The brittle brought the crunch I need in ice cream and it is now my new favourite.


I came back to the ‘ranch’ in time for dinner #3 my free hostel dinner. Mostly vegan, the hummus rocked my world.


Now I am off to chill in bed after walking 19 km today.


4 Comments on In which the language of coffee is not universal

  1. Gary Lum
    July 16, 2019 at 5:49 am (1 year ago)

    I like how you heed the advice of your alimentary system.

    That coffee process sounded awful.

    • admin
      July 16, 2019 at 3:50 pm (1 year ago)

      Haha and so frustrating ?

  2. Robyn
    July 16, 2019 at 9:54 am (1 year ago)

    19 Km!!!! I had to scroll past the gum photos very quickly, just the thought is making me feel ill. Love the troll! 🙂

    • admin
      July 16, 2019 at 3:51 pm (1 year ago)

      A weirdly beautiful area but so unsanitary *shudder*


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