Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Hello, Roadtrip!


The Palms Motel, our home in Portland.


This weekend I had the opportunity to head into Portland. I've been planning this for a while and decided to take a day off work to make the trip a bit longer; it was beyond worth it. I don't remember the last time I fell so in love with a city, the charm just reels you in and you can't stop grinning. Everything was so quaint and lovely and had so much character, I couldn't stop taking photos. 

I went with Mark and he was quick to bring up that everyone looked like they were out to have a good time - he was absolutely right. It's so rare to find a city that's so raw and so open, without a single care. No pretentiousness, no air of stuffiness, it's a city for those looking to explore and enjoy life. The food was phenomenal and of course we sampled plenty of beer at the local breweries. 


Our motel, The Palms, was a landmark with it's neon sign, I'm still lusting after it. I really wanted a taste of good ol' Americana, and wanted to experience wholesome diners and old motels, and forget about absolutely all of my worries. We strolled through all the various districts and hung out in old and untouched tiki bars. 


On the way back we zipped and twirled along a mountainous highway and made it to North Bend, Washington. The reason for this detour was to finally get a chance to visit the infamous RR Diner from Twin Peaks. For all you David Lynch fans, it was just as spectacular as you'd expect. We obviously sampled a slice of cherry pie and a damn fine cup of coffee. The neon ceiling was intact and it was a Lynchian dream. The diner suffered after a fire years ago but ever since Lynch started filming the new season (which of course, eeeep, I'm so excited for) he restored the diner to its former glory. 


Really keen on posting these photos and I'm genuinely so excited to go back.Vacations are never long enough. 






The most succulent doughnuts are located here.


Realistically, how many doughnuts is too many?



The infamous RR Diner. This is where pies go when they die.


Mark and I being cute in the motel, naturally.





Another diner, another slice of Americana.



The Alibi, Portland's own untouched tiki bar since the '60s.



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