I really wish someone had warned me about Eugene, Oregon before I made the Amtrak reservations. I wish they had told me how it’s a tiny little middle of the road town with no real attractions or sights.
Had I been warned, I might not have requested a stop in the Godforsaken two-horse town. I would have stayed on the train to Sacramento.
But c’est la vie. And I’m not all-together that upset about it now. I’ve had a few hours to mope around the town, kill time at a Japanese sushi bar that only served imitation crab meats in its rolls, and loiter in the Hilton ordering another Pepsi – my greatest vice these days.
Not nearly as impressive as Seattle or Portland, but decent nonetheless. At first impression, it’s the sort of town that seems a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll all in one. It reminded me of home, which is not necessarily something I want to be reminded of.
We stayed in The Hilton, which looked like it might have been the fanciest hotel in town. I’m not complaining –it was only two blocks from the train station.
Having arrived on a Sunday there was not much open and the city was not particularly erupting with a vivacious nightlife –or any signs of life, for that matter.
I settled into what I imagine to be our four-star hotel (by their standards, I’m sure) and after looking over a map of the city decided to check out the various amenities.
There was a pool. Sweet. The whirlpool was not hot and it was outside in the crisp night air. Suck.
The saline pool made be so buoyant that I couldn’t really enjoy a good swim. Needless to say, I was incredibly thirsty after my float through the Dead Sea.
Pizza and a movie were the order for the evening. The hotel room service actually delivers a fresh, non-Di Giorno pie. So, after getting our one-topping pizza, and realizing that there was nothing better on TV than the Hilton Channel (It’s exactly what you think it is – a channel devoted to the life and times of Conrad Hilton, Paris’s great-grand-daddy) we ordered Mama Mia! OnDemand.
We were forced to evacuate, er, check-out of the hotel room by noon. So, after a quick breakfast at the hotel coffee shop, which included Tillamook cheddar cheese on every menu item.
Note to chef: just because we’re in Tillamook territory does not mean you have to oversaturate the menu with cheddar cheese. It does not pair well with Dungeness Crab – a’ight? Next time try a Jack cheese. (I will not apologize for my Californian culinary sensibilities and stoicism.)
Then it was off to explore the area. Bleh. I felt like I was back in Millbrae. Even El Sobrante has more charm. They do have emission-free busses though. That’s a plus.
Since we had like ten hours to kill until the train to Sacramento arrived in town, we moseyed on over to the waterfront park, since my mother seems to be obsessed with the Willamette River. (Pronounced: Wil-la-mette. I had been misprounouncing it this whole time.) Whatever. I have to admit it’s a really peaceful place.
Once you cross the pedestrian bridge to the park, you see a mini waterfall coming from a little lagoon toward the river. In the distance there were a bunch of geese squawking. The river itself took on a life of its own. With its gurgling mini-rapids and crystal clear water, I suddenly felt at peace. By the side of the river grew wild blackberry bushes – a sight you see all along the Pacific Northwest into California. I picked a few ripe ones as a quick snack before heading back into town.
There was more life in the park than there was all over the city thanks to Columbus Day. (Seriously, who celebrates this holiday anymore?) But just like I’ve experienced in my few days in Oregon, people are friendly, helpful and down to earth. Coming from urban-California, I find it extremely refreshing to have a complete stranger greet you with a simple “hello” and a “are you looking for something?” when they see you staring blankly at a map of their two block city.
Hmm . . . I wonder if it’s the ban on sales tax that makes them so peppy. And lucky for them, I like bridges.
Had I been warned, I might not have requested a stop in the Godforsaken two-horse town. I would have stayed on the train to Sacramento.
But c’est la vie. And I’m not all-together that upset about it now. I’ve had a few hours to mope around the town, kill time at a Japanese sushi bar that only served imitation crab meats in its rolls, and loiter in the Hilton ordering another Pepsi – my greatest vice these days.
Not nearly as impressive as Seattle or Portland, but decent nonetheless. At first impression, it’s the sort of town that seems a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll all in one. It reminded me of home, which is not necessarily something I want to be reminded of.
We stayed in The Hilton, which looked like it might have been the fanciest hotel in town. I’m not complaining –it was only two blocks from the train station.
Having arrived on a Sunday there was not much open and the city was not particularly erupting with a vivacious nightlife –or any signs of life, for that matter.
I settled into what I imagine to be our four-star hotel (by their standards, I’m sure) and after looking over a map of the city decided to check out the various amenities.
There was a pool. Sweet. The whirlpool was not hot and it was outside in the crisp night air. Suck.
The saline pool made be so buoyant that I couldn’t really enjoy a good swim. Needless to say, I was incredibly thirsty after my float through the Dead Sea.
Pizza and a movie were the order for the evening. The hotel room service actually delivers a fresh, non-Di Giorno pie. So, after getting our one-topping pizza, and realizing that there was nothing better on TV than the Hilton Channel (It’s exactly what you think it is – a channel devoted to the life and times of Conrad Hilton, Paris’s great-grand-daddy) we ordered Mama Mia! OnDemand.
We were forced to evacuate, er, check-out of the hotel room by noon. So, after a quick breakfast at the hotel coffee shop, which included Tillamook cheddar cheese on every menu item.
Note to chef: just because we’re in Tillamook territory does not mean you have to oversaturate the menu with cheddar cheese. It does not pair well with Dungeness Crab – a’ight? Next time try a Jack cheese. (I will not apologize for my Californian culinary sensibilities and stoicism.)
Then it was off to explore the area. Bleh. I felt like I was back in Millbrae. Even El Sobrante has more charm. They do have emission-free busses though. That’s a plus.
Since we had like ten hours to kill until the train to Sacramento arrived in town, we moseyed on over to the waterfront park, since my mother seems to be obsessed with the Willamette River. (Pronounced: Wil-la-mette. I had been misprounouncing it this whole time.) Whatever. I have to admit it’s a really peaceful place.
Once you cross the pedestrian bridge to the park, you see a mini waterfall coming from a little lagoon toward the river. In the distance there were a bunch of geese squawking. The river itself took on a life of its own. With its gurgling mini-rapids and crystal clear water, I suddenly felt at peace. By the side of the river grew wild blackberry bushes – a sight you see all along the Pacific Northwest into California. I picked a few ripe ones as a quick snack before heading back into town.
There was more life in the park than there was all over the city thanks to Columbus Day. (Seriously, who celebrates this holiday anymore?) But just like I’ve experienced in my few days in Oregon, people are friendly, helpful and down to earth. Coming from urban-California, I find it extremely refreshing to have a complete stranger greet you with a simple “hello” and a “are you looking for something?” when they see you staring blankly at a map of their two block city.
Hmm . . . I wonder if it’s the ban on sales tax that makes them so peppy. And lucky for them, I like bridges.
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