Berkelandia — Oregon

What made Portland so spectacular is exactly what pushed me away. It’s not that I didn’t love it, I felt incredibly comfortable there, but that is exactly the opposite of what I am looking for on this trip. Aside from producing writing that I am proud of, considering my place in this world, and of course, getting to know myself, I want to take this time to break away from my “comfort zone”. In Portland, everything felt too familiar to be uncomfortable.

“This city is really just a big Berkeley.” My childhood friend smiled as she told me this and I remembered how much I love being close to her. Of course, even that felt familiar.

She took me to a few of her favorite places and I did some exploring of my own. I couldn’t believe how right she is—Portland even has many of the same features and attractions as Berkeley. For example:

Portland has a huge bookstore called “Powell’s City of Books”. They claim to be the largest new-and-used bookstore in the world!

Berkeley has Moe’s. A smaller, yet still quite impressive and renown new-and-used bookstore.

Portland has a huge rose garden, “The International Rose Test Garden”. It’s beautiful and surrounded by a huge park in a wealthy residential neighborhood.

Berkeley has a smaller, yet just as striking rose garden, also surrounded by a large park in a wealthy residential neighborhood.

And most notably in my mind, they both have similar cultures of people—a significant example of this being: the type who romantically lean against buildings holding an open book in one hand and coffee in the other, with a burning cigarette nestled loosely between two fingers allowing the coffee’s steam to twist into the rising smoke.

Yes, I actually saw somebody doing that.

I loved Portland. Despite the lack of diversity in Oregon, I think I could very comfortably live in Portland. But right now, I want to go where I think I can’t live. Because for better or worst, there’s nothing I love to do more than the things that I assume myself to be incapable of.

**Photo taken at Dismal Nitch, on my way from Portland to Olympia via the coast.