Vancouver and Seattle

Yes it's blog time again, I'm back in the States and ready to unleash my wordy rants about drinking, seeing bands, travelling, drinking, buying cool stuff and probably some more drinking on you all for the second time. I can't change the name of the blog now, but think of it as 'Four weeks without Taz' this time...

Thankfully the flights were uneventful (and on our Dunedin to Auckland leg I was most proud to see Girl Sam making a roller derby appearance in the inflight magazine, and of course my old friend Bear Grylls on the safety video), although I had a bit of a kerfuffle in LAX with my bag. The Air New Zealand guy at Dunedin airport said that my bag was checked all the way through to Vancouver, so I wouldn't need to collect it till then. Sweet. This was news to the surly and very adamant guy at LAX who wouldn't let me through customs without my bag (“I don't care what they told you in Noo Zeeeland, THEY LIED! You must collect your bag before we can let you in. Go back and get it!” So Sam got through since he had no checked luggage and I had to go back and wait at the carousel for a bag that I was fairly sure wasn't going to be there. About 40 minutes later, and once all the bags were off (minus mine), I was at a loss for what to do, so I tried going through again and was lucky to get a different (and more indifferent) guy, who was all “Well that sounds odd, you have to collect your bag, but really it's not my problem so I'll just let you through anyway, but if your bag is lost you won't be able to come back to look for it.” At this point I put my faith in what I'd been told in Dunedin and entered the States without my stuff, slightly freaking out. It was quickly cleared up by a kind Canadian woman at the ticketing counter who was all “Yeah your bag's checked through to Vancouver, those guys in customs don't know what they're talking about, welcome to America!” Ah, just the additional kind of stress I need at airports... My bag and I were happily reunited in Vancouver, and we made it on to the train to the Cambie Hostel in Gastown about 11pm. Along the way we got talking to a fellow Kiwi from Raglan called Matt, who had been on the last two flights with us and now it turned out was also booked into the same backpackers. Merriment ensued and we had some beers at the awesome bar downstairs at the Cambie, then moved on after they closed to a $2 beer night at a nearby (quite terrible) bar, whose one redeeming feature (apart from those $2 beers) was that they were playing Michael Jackson.

We awoke surprisingly non jet-lagged the next day and wandered around downtown Vancouver and Gastown checking out the sights (mainly record stores, some decent rockabilly-type clothing places, the impressive library building and a park with a fountain). We didn't have any gigs or anything locked in, and were just in Vancouver for the two nights, so had no schedule to stick to really. I was determined that we'd have something of a quiet night since we were getting the bus to Seattle the next day to see Rancid, but after meeting Matt for dinner (one plate of 'small' nachos that fed three of us), it quickly morphed into drinks, including the excellent Fireball, a hot whiskey that Matt introduced us to that must start being imported into New Zealand immediately. I sensibly turned down the next free shots the bartender offered us, for the greater good of Rancid.

Sam in front of the Vancouver Public Library

Andy in front of fountain in park in Vancouver. Was tempted to climb in fountain along with the dogs and kids that were doing so...

The bus trip from Vancouver to Seattle was less exciting than I'd anticipated, with most of the scenery being pretty reminiscent of rural New Zealand, broken up by some depressing looking small agricultural towns that had McDonalds' and not a lot more. It was a welcome sight to roll in to Seattle and see the Space Needle in all its retro design-y goodness... Due to traffic delays on the bus trip and then an entirely self-inflicted delay where we coudn't figure out which direction the public transport we were meant to get was heading in, we were about an hour and a half later getting to our hostel than planned, so had minimal time before the Rancid show. A much needed pre-show nap was prescribed. The place we stayed in was deceptively awesome; although it was called the AAE Hostel and was really cheap, check-in was at a Best Western motel which we had thought was next door, but actually included the hostel, so we had a fancy room with two beds, a private bathroom, free breakfast and a hot tub. We were running late for the show (remember my gripe last time with US shows starting way too early?), and weren't overly certain which stop we needed to get off at, and made the mistake of going with a loud blue-haired girl who announced on the bus that she was heading to the same show. As soon as she got off the bus she revealed herself to be a complete flake who had not only got us off at the wrong stop and didn't know where we were, but who then proceeded to ask people on the street whether it was 8.30am or pm and what day it was... We left her to her own devices and ran (well to be honest, more 'briskly walked') for a number of blocks in the general direction of the show, and made it in time to hear three Transplants songs. Oh well, two more opportunities to see em I guess. At least there was plenty of time to have a few beers and buy a bunch of merch (inlcuding an ill-fated Rancid lighter which I had to leave behind in Seattle today since it couldn't come on the plane with me) before the main act. The venue was quite weird in that the floor was all one level with no raised bits for shorties like me to stand on and actually see, so rather than go up the front and get squished, I had the best view at the very back, and space to dance as well. Which I did, enthusiastically. They played an excellent set (although I'd struggle to come up with a bad set for Rancid since I like 99% of their songs, so I'm easily pleased), and sounded amazing. I was restrained and didn't even attempt to get my Tim stalking on after the show (perhaps when we see them again in Vegas, since I know where to go after last time). Instead, the night was topped off by a veggie dog with a million jalapenos and then a soak in the hot tub. Yup, you're all right, Seattle.

Space Needle!

Day two started out in Belltown, the neighbourhood we were staying in, which happened to have a nice little one block section of Sam and Andy Heaven: we had a beer at Shorty's, a pinball themed dive bar with creepy clowns; tacos at Mama's Mexican Kitchen; then a lingering look at punk record store Singles Going Steady. Hilariously, on our way to the Pike Place Market, we were stopped by a girl from Joe TV (a local Seattle station), who wanted to film us for a documentary on Seattle fashion. She wasn't deterred by the fact we were actually from New Zealand, and we agreed to it when she said she just wanted to film our bags and jackets while we were walking along, not our faces. So yeah, we'll probably be the background image to a voiceover on washed-up punk style or something... Repping a Conniption patch on my bag though... Pike Place Market itself was rad, so many little quirky stores, artist studios, etc. Sadly, it was just not feasible for me to purchase the life-sized cut-out of Bad era Michael Jackson I encountered.

Curtained private booth for two at Mama's Mexican Kitchen, with accompanying Elvis cut-out.

Andy at Shorty's, the bar where the tables were old pinball machines.

After dinner at a pizza and microbrew beer place called Zeek's, we decided to do the Space Needle. If only we had decided this a number of hours prior; we found out the next day that Mudhoney had been there earlier doing a promotional gig at the top of the tower. Can't win em all eh... Still, some very cool views from the top at night, but as usual, I got absolutely rubbish photos that don't do it justice. Maybe one day I'll learn to work the settings on my camera properly... Pleased with our Space Needle visit, we returned to the hotel at the rather respectable hour of about midnight and finally had that quiet and not-so-boozy night we were in need of.

The 13^th was the much anticipated day of the Sub Pop 25^th Jubilee gig in Georgetown; basically, a bunch of old and new bands who were or still are on the Sub Pop label took over the industrial-but-getting-hip suburb of Georgetown for a day long festival with three stages. On our way, we stopped at Roq La Rue Gallery, a pop surrealist gallery that was high on my list of things to do in Seattle, but which I had just discovered wouldn't be open the next two days, so it had to be squeezed in immediately. The group show that was on ('Other Worlds') was amazing, some really fantastic oil on panel paintings by some artists I already liked, and some new ones to investigate further. We both loved the show, but unfortunately didn't anticipate the insanity of the public transport system trying to accommodate all the Sub Pop festival goers, and things probably could have worked out a bit better if we hadn't had to add the gallery visit in. As it turns out, we were incredibly fortunate to even get on the bus to the festival; it was 45 minutes late and absolutely packed, and they only let 4 of the maybe 20 people waiting at the stop on (yay, us!) We got to Georgetown right as the band Sam wanted to see (Pissed Jeans) would have been starting, but Google maps led us up the garden path and down the wrong end of the street they were playing on. We ended up finding a different stage and I enjoyed seeing Tad Doyle's new band, but by the time we finally got our hands on the official gig map and realised the Google one was wrong, Pissed Jeans had already played. Sorry Sam. We partook of the specialty beers (a commemorative Nevermind beer was the favourite of the day), got photos in the blown up face-hole cut-out thingies of album covers (I had no mates for the L7 one and was rather boozy by this stage and managed to get my head and three limbs through the 4 face-holes) then saw the Metz and J Mascis, raided the Sub Pop Mega Mart (it suddenly became clear how putting on a free gig could still be profitable when you saw the massive amounts of swag people were buying), and then made sure we were in the right place for Mudhoney. They were awesome, and it was much better seeing them at this than it was at the stadium arena when we were last here. I would have liked them to play for longer, but they did heaps of the songs I wanted to hear, and I bounced around like an idiot. Once they finished, we kind of wandered back around behind the stage, and there was a gap in the chainlink fence, and Mark Arm the singer was standing behind it unawares, with no security to be seen. I was initially hesitant, as climbing through a fence to get to one of your idols seemed to be taking it to a new level, but with Sam's urging (read: pushing), I was through the fence and apologetically met Mark Arm. He didn't seem to mind (guess I'm lucky I'm the unthreatening type), and Sam got a photo of us. Woop woop!

Sub Pop festival; just one of three stages throughout the Georgetown neighbourhood.

Stalking pays off: meeting Mark Arm from Mudhoney.

What happens when you really want a photo in the L7 album cover but have no mates to accompany you and are somewhat drunk...

There had been rumours all day that Soundgarden were going to play (and to be fair, Sub Pop themselves were largely responsible for this, having pretty much announced it in in coded form on their website weeks ago), but it was not to happen; we hung round hopefully for a bit, then conceded defeat. The local brewery Elysian who were sponsoring the event were having an outdoor movie screening in their lot though, and it just so happened to be 'Dazed and Confused,' one of my faves, so we decided to stick around for that. You had to buy drink tickets at the festival, and by that time of night, a lot of the beer had run out, so the only thing we could exchange our drink tickets for was 7.5% beer. Oh dear.. I happily watched the movie on the big screen, and then Sam was in charge of getting us home. Damn you 7.5% beer...

The first real hangover of the trip, and our last day in Seattle. I had read in a guidebook back in Dunedin that the EMP (Experience Music Project) Museum was maybe not worth going to, but since they had a Nirvana exhibition on, thought we'd do it anyway. Um, last time I listen to a guidebook – hands down the best museum I've ever been to, fullstop. In addition to 'Nirvana: Taking Punk to the Masses,' they had a horror film exhibition, a fantasy movie one, a Jimi Hendrix one, a guitar gallery, a sound lab where you could play instruments and record yourself, and glorious amonts of amazing pop culture goodness. We sat on the Iron Throne from Game of Thrones, I got a photo next to both a zombie costume from the Thriller video and The Goblin King outfit from Labyrinth (complete with inappropriate bulge), saw the axe from the Shining, and generally revelled in watching music videos play on a screen that was practically IMAX size. The Nirvana exhibition was the definite highlight though, and I appreciated that it incorporated a lot of other smaller bands from the same era as well. Plenty to watch and listen to, along with rare photos, merch, letters, clothes, instruments, etc. Very cool to see Kurt's iconic 'Vandalism: Beautiful as a rock in a cop's face' sticker guitar, and the anatomical angels from the In Utero tour. There was a nicely done book to accompany the exhibition, but I'm attempting to be sensible with the amount of heavy stuff I buy and have to lug around, so I'll save some of my trip money to buy it on Amazon when I get back.

No flash photography allowed, hence terrible picture, but yay for that guitar...

Jealous much Dad? A 2-3 story sculpture of guitars.

The anatomical angel from In Utero. Wish they sold these in the gift shop...

After hours spent in the EMP on a gorgeous summer's day, we dragged our hangovers out into the sun, and visited the nearby Olympic Sculpture park on the waterfront. To be honest, it was somewhat average after seeing all the cool stuff in the EMP, but the views were pretty cool and it was good to get some fresh air. We then hopped on the monorail for a quick trip, grabbed some tacos and went back to the hotel to casjh out. It's testament to how tired we were by that stage that we couldn't even muster the energy for a final dip in the hot tub, but instead lay in bed watching cartoons on cable for most of the night. For some reason I then couldn't get to sleep, and last looked at the clock at about 5.45am, knowing we had to get up for our flight at 8.30 the next morning. I made myself feel better about this by thinking that at least I was 'Sleepless in Seattle,' how very fitting...

View of Puget Sound from the Olympic Sculpture Park. Not so disease-covered after all...

Sam at the Olympic Sculpture Park.

Next up, New York: we're staying in the apartment of a burlesque dancer, and there are showgirl outfits, boas, glittery things and jewellery everywhere. It's like Las Vegas happened a week early...