Cedar River

13:30
I wake a few times during the night, and am pretty confused. The first couple of times, just because it feels like morning, but is still the middle of the night. Pretty standard jet-lag stuff. Around 02:00, I wake up, and (stupidly) check my phone. I have a message from Andrew, one of my Dad’s old neighbours, and who has very kindly been keeping half an eye on Dad’s empty house while we sort out probate for his estate. There’s an alarm going off inside the house. Now - 02:00 for me, is 10:00 back home, so it’s not a weird, middle-of-the-night type thing - at least, not back in the UK. Andrew has a key to the house, so generously offers to investigate. It transpires the smoke alarm batteries are running out, and are shouting about it. I ping Sals, who’s on the case, and try to go back to sleep. Predictably, I struggle. My body, after all, thinks it’s 10:00. I do manage a few hours more of scratchy sleep, but by 06:00, I’m wide awake. C’est la vie.

Today’s moving day. Would have been time to grab my train this afternoon, but instead it’s to different accommodation in the city. I asked at CitizenM about extending my stay, but they wanted $250 per night for Wednesday and Thursday. Given I paid $130 per night when I originally booked, that feels way too steep. I’ve found a serviced apartment complex up near Pike’s Place which looks great, and is coming in at around $100 per night. I’m sure it’ll do.

It turns out there’s been a cyclone overnight. What the media locally are calling a ‘bomb’ cyclone, which is a new one to me. I think it’s just a butch way of saying ‘storm.’ It’s not hit Seattle too badly, but just an hour to the South, there are power lines down, and a couple of fatalities. Further to the South, in Oregon and Northern California, it’s a bit of a clusterfuck. Many mudslides, lots of flooding. I suspect this is why my train got cancelled.

I’m not really feeling breakfast, so get packed, check out and leave my bags for the day. I grab a coffee nearby, and then jump on a bus towards Memorial Stadium. I love getting buses in a new city. Other than walking around, I think it’s the best way to familiarise myself with the geography of a place.

I’m really excited for this morning. I’m taking a slightly off-the-wall tour of famous Seattle grunge spots - rehearsal spaces, gig venues, and very sadly, a bunch of suicide locations. I don’t think it’s particularly controversial to suggest that the early to mid-teen years can be a massively shaping time in a young person’s life. I got into grunge music in 1991, watching MTV on a family holiday to Cornwall, and seeing/hearing Pearl Jam and Nirvana for the first time. There was something about the combination of dirty guitar sounds, melodic minor key music, and angst ridden lyrics that just chimed with who I was at the time. It was also the first time I developed what I’d consider my own taste in music. Until then, I’d largely co-opted whatever music was playing around the house. I grew up with my parents’ taste in music, and I think I was pretty lucky that this featured the likes of Fleetwood Mac, The Police, Blondie. A guitar kid, I definitely was. Hearing and falling in love with grunge music was the development of my own musical identity, and I listen to old grunge albums regularly to this day.

Seattle was the epicentre of the grunge musical movement. Most of the best and best known bands either originated here, or moved here to be part of and close to the movement. Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Mudhoney, Dinosaur Junior, Alice in Chains, Stone Temple Pilots - all based out of Seattle. As my sister, Sals, will doubtless painfully attest, I listened to these bands on heavy rotation through most of my teenage years, and though more recently it’s more sporadic, it remains a style of music that moves me, and is incredibly evocative.

I meet my guide, Charity, next to the Museum of Pop Culture. Today, she’s accompanied by her husband, Jeremy. He would have been working today, but power outages at this place of work have meant he’s at a loose end, so is joining us. As we set off, Charity’s straight into voiceover mode, pointing out bars, gig venues, apartment blocks that all have some kind of resonance with the grunge scene. We stop at Kerry Park - ostensibly because of an album cover that was photographed here. The views back over the city centre are stunning. On a clearer day, Mount Rainier would be visible in the distance. It’s a little overcast, so the view is ‘limited’ to the cityscape, but it’s breathtaking nonetheless.

We make a few more pitstops in the city centre - Jeff Ament’s (Pearl Jam’s bassist) apartment, Layne Staley (Alice In Chain’s vocalist) apartment, where he sadly overdosed, a couple of places where Jimi Hendrix hung out as a kid. As music cities go, Seattle has one hell of a heritage.

We head up to Volunteer Park to the Black Sun sculpture, the inspiration for Soundgarden’s seminal track Black Hole Sun. There’s an incredible view over towards the city and the Space Needle. We cruise over to the East of Seattle, to a view over to Bellevue and Redmond (where Microsoft is based) to visit Kurt Cobain’s home, where he sadly took his own life.

That angst I mentioned earlier? It’s ridden through the history of grunge music. As a music scene, it was heavily associated with drug use, and particularly heroin. Surely not coincidentally, there’s also a massively high incidence of suicide.

All in, we spend 3 hours cruising around the city. Chatting away to 2 similarly minded grunge enthusiasts while seeing some of these so significant places is a treat. I’m joyful, but saddened, I reminisce, I long for a modern musical emotion that comes to close…

Charity and Jeremy drop me at Central Saloon, back in the Pioneer Square neighbourhood that’s been my home for the past couple of days, and also the location of Nirvana’s first gig in Seattle. I grab a couple of beers and some food. My decision to forego breakfast earlier means I’m properly peckish. Some wings and a big bowl of tater tots satiates me.

16:00
My new digs aren’t far away from CitizenM, but it’s uphill all the way. Deciding that discretion is the better part of valour, I jump on a bus. I bought a bus day-pass earlier, so may as well make use of it.

Check-in time is 16:00 at The Oxford, and I head there around 14:30 to drop my suitcase, so I can head out for a wander. It transpires my apartment is ready for me, so I can check in straightaway. My apartment is great! Really reminds me of Ace Hotel in New York. Comfy but cool. I briefly consider a nap, but I’m actually not feeling too sleepy today. I crack open a fantastic bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon - coincidentally from a vineyard we visited in California a couple of years ago, and settle in for a little rest before heading out for the evening.

20:30
Here I am, congratulating myself on still being awake at 20:30, without having had a nap in the afternoon. This is progress. I’ve had a lovely afternoon. I write, I read, and I watch a movie.

Around 18:00, I head out. I’m not kidding myself. I’ll still be ready for bed at a distressingly early hour. Walking around the city centre at this time of night is a sobering experience. After offices start to close, homeless people outnumber those with homes by perhaps 2 to 1. According to Jeremy and Charity (earlier), this is now alarmingly common in cities across the US. Partly a post-COVID hangover, and partly a direct result of the inflation driven by the illegal Russian invasion of Ukraine. I don’t think there’s been a substantively different outcome in the US than elsewhere in the Western world. My experience is that homeless rates, the impact of poverty are seen equally across Europe, and specifically within the UK. It’s clearly new and quite different for folks in the US. I’ll be interested to see if Minneapolis, a traditionally wealthy, middle-class city, feels the same.

I end up at a Sushi place I spotted yesterday, while wandering around the Pike’s Place Market neighbourhood. It wasn’t open when I walked past, but I was attracted by the simple wooden counter, and the straightforward description of their food. I wasn’t 100% sure they’d be open. They don’t have a website, and I could find next to no reviews of the place. I am SO glad I stopped in. The sushi is the best I’ve ever had. I’ve yet to make it to Japan - Vicki and I being cruelly denied our planned trip there in 2020, due to COVID. This is sensational fish though. The sashimi is amazing - 4 different kinds of fish, with hamachi being the standout. The nigiri are next level though. Where sashimi is the unadulterated, pure expression of the fish, nigiri allows a little more leeway. I order three - scallop, mackerel and eel. The scallop is delicious, and delicate. The eel is smoky and robust. The mackerel though - the fucking mackerel. It’s one of the best mouthfuls of food I’ve ever eaten. It’s been cured, but oh so everso slightly. The oiliness of the fish gives an incredible mouthfeel, and the pungent fishiness (not everyone’s cup of tea) is there throughout. It’s also the cheapest of the nigiri dishes. Banging fresh mackerel is one of my very favourite things. I wish more people agreed…

Around the corner is a ‘traditional’ Irish pub. So much of the time in the US, these are cookie-cutter versions of what some marketing department has decided is a traditional Irish pub. This place though, hits the high notes. I order a Guinness, because that’s what you do, and a Bushmills. I’m a little stunned when the cost of my round is $24, before any kind of tip. I determine it’s a one round stop, take my drinks outside, and people watch for a delightful half hour…

22:00
I’m conscious I’m writing more day-by-day than I would normally. I just have tons to say on this trip. Sometimes not, but this time around, that verbal diarrhoea I mentioned earlier…

Back at my apartment, and whilst it’s still early, it feels late. My body’s adapting, but slowly. I think a flight two hours to the East on Friday should just about kill any remaining jet-lag.

Here’s hoping…Read more