Edd's Travels: Portland, OR

The train here from Seattle was very nice. Tons of room in an empty carriage, functioning wi-fi, and we arrived half an hour early. Here we see the benefits of publicly-owned trains. If only there was somebody I could vote for to get the same thing back home.

Portland doesn't really have many tourist attractions or photo opportunities. It's simply a very nice place to, like, just totally hang out, dude, as the locals might say through a sleepy haze of pot smoke. There are microbreweries everywhere and it seems pretty much everyone is a skateboard coach, or a bagel decorator, or a marketing consultant for a vegan dance troupe...

In general I am amiably disposed towards that kind of thing, but everything has its limits, and I wonder if the atmosphere here is not just a little too complacently self-satisfied about how kooky and alternative it all is. We can't all be hipsters: somebody somewhere has to get on with the business of providing life's essentials. All these fascinating little cafés and galleries and specialist shops are touted as a sign of prosperity, but they are the fringe benefits of prosperity and not its causes. And people who piously insist on their $2 coffee being FairTrade, while remaining indifferent about the provenance of the $1000 MacBook sitting next to that coffee, need to spend less time preaching to others and more time educating themselves. But that kind of thing is by no means limited to Portland. It's my blog and I'll rant if I want to.

Enough negativity. My hostel is in the peaceful and charmingly-named Nob Hill district. Nearby is Powell's, the biggest and greatest second-hand bookstore in the world, where I exercised heroic self-restraint by spending only $25. There have been enjoyable nights with fellow guests of various nationalities in the surrounding bars, including the Deschutes brewpub - you can get their stuff in the UK, in the better off-licences if not in the supermarkets just yet.

In the hostel garden I had an amusing chat with a young woman from Pensacola (I've been there! Pensacola, not the girl) who was a firm 'believer' on the subject of alien abductions and UFOs and all that malarkey. Her beliefs were backed up by things she'd read: 'on the internet!' she added for emphasis, as if that was a mark of authenticity compared to unreliable tittle-tattle like, y'know, books.

Separately I talked with an even younger girl, an 18-year-old college fresher from Orlando, who had just heard Afrikaans for the first time and described it, unimprovably, as sounding 'like a gay Hitler'. I rewarded her with a bottle of Blue Moon White IPA, despite her being under 21. In doing so I perpetrated not only the deed for which Socrates was put to death, but also possibly a legal misdemeanour. She was just starting out in the world of underage drinking and fake IDs and all-night parties. Et in arcadia ego.

Less pleasing was a discussion about gun control with an American chap who was firmly 'anti' (anti the control, that is, not the guns). I put it to him that when the 2nd amendment mentions "...a well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State..." it's clearly referring to the fact that the US didn't have a standing army in 1791; and that since the US does now have a standing army, quite a substantial one in fact, the amendment is simply out of date. Judging by the rather vacant stare I got in response, I'd say his enthusiasm for the 2nd amendment hadn't extended as far as actually reading it.

I avoid lecturing strangers with whom I disagree. I prefer a kind of poker-faced Louis Theroux approach, just asking questions, because you're never likely to change someone's beliefs and it's better to try to understand where they're coming from. So I gently suggested that it would at least do no harm to ban assault rifles and large handgun clips, neither of which can serve any legitimate defensive purpose (the word 'assault' is there for a reason). Here is a rough but unembellished transcript of the ensuing exchange:

Me: If you want to defend your home and family then surely you're better off with a shotgun than a pistol or a rifle.

Him: No, I got my Glock pistol with a 12-round clip, that's what I'd use if I heard noises downstairs.

Me: But a shotgun would give you a wide burst of fire. Margin for error in the darkness.

Him: Don't need it. The pistol has a light beam so I can see what I'm shooting.

Me: Your gun has a light shining out of it - surely that means the burglars can see you but you can't see them...

Him: No, because I'd already be pointing my gun at the burglar when the light went on.

Me: But if you can aim without the light, then what's the light for?

I can't remember the rest of it. I was losing the will to argue, and indeed the will to live.

If you've read this blog all the way through then thank you, and I'm flattered, and I hope you don't feel you've wasted your time. However if you've skipped straight to the photos then don't worry, I forgive you.

PS I've just had my head shaved, and having no hair puts me in a tricky situation re my next destination...I might have to put the flowers in my beard instead...