Going back a bit, Saturday night, I had dinner at Park Stone Wood Kitchen. My lunch was large and thus reduced my requirements for dinner. The staff at Aloft, my hotel, offered a complimentary appetizer card for the establishment. It was just across the street and smelled of wood smoke, and my waiter, Bess, and I had some trouble as she thought the cornbread appetizer too large for one, and I settled for the deviled eggs. They were good, but the whites are lightly breaded and deep-fried?! I had the steak salad. Nearly ruined by out-of-the-refrigerator supply version of blue cheese crumbles and croutons, but the dressing worked, the tiny tomatoes were sliced and wilted in heat, and the red peppers were perfectly cooked. The steak, not much, was thinly sliced and stir-fried to a perfect brown crunch, which matched the wood taste. I was sorry that I did not order a steak there! Wow!
I had stuck to iced tea as my recent experience with leg cramps suggested two beers were a bad idea (I had a beer while writing yesterday’s blog. I also wanted to try the pool. Two women from Seattle were using the pool. It was cool and past the refreshing stage. I managed to swim a few times underwater, but the cold water did not improve as I descended deeper, and I decided not to try to reach the end of the pool underwater. I mostly walked and frog-crawled back.
I recommended that the women try Kells and the Chinese Garden, and maybe the Rose Garden. All of this was off the MAX, which they could take out from PDX. They are headed back to Seattle late on Sunday.
I slept only a bit as I am always worried about not hearing my alarm. I actually practiced the alarm to ensure the phone was correctly set to make a sound; it was. I was able to sleep on and off as every sound woke me.
I rose at 4ish on Sunday morning to Deborah’s East Coast time posts of her at the Detroit Airport. I soon popped in the shower, shaved, and all of that. By 5ish, I was in the lobby and waiting for the shuttle. It was delayed a few minutes returning a forgotten phone to a passenger. I noticed that the Aloft hotel used a security robot in the parking lot. I had never seen one before; it was impressively large.
I was the first person on the shuttle, and then another group appeared. We stopped at another hotel for a failed pickup (nobody was ready), and then we reached PDX. I soon found Alaska Air, but they had no working kiosks for printing tags for a bag. Instead, I joined a long line of folks to allow an agent to print our tags. I then rolled my bag to American Airlines for them to put my bag on a working belt. I saw the bag made it to the plane in the Alaska Air App later. Hmmm. Yes, strongly leaning towards that Platinum Delta AMEX.
Boarding was the usual process with Alaska, using different words for everything and letters (not numbers) for groups. I got group C as I used their credit card. I sat next to a woman who was heading to California to help a sick relative. She wore a high-quality mask. I offered to wear one (I always carry a few), but she was fine. She is a mechanical engineer and worked on drawings for most of the two-hour trip. About enough time for me to nod off and also read a chapter. I also managed a cookie and a coffee with cream to dip it in.
The plane landed without issue (the most you can hope for in the cheap seats). I was in seat 20F near the wing and blissfully far from the bathrooms. I found my bag after a short walk in John Wayne Airport, and found John there.
Deborah soon arrived, and I met her at baggage claim. We then found a taxi to our hotel, the Hyatt Regency OC, 11 miles away. We stored our bags and headed for lunch at Red Robin, and soon got word that our room was already available. With some food inside us, we were quickly reunited without our bags and began unpacking and so on.
A nap helped, and we both decided not to travel far for dinner. We had never been to a Joe’s Crabhouse before, and we decided to try it out. We skipped the boiled dinner and the vast array of deep-fried offerings and opted for fish plates. Deborah went for a lovely glazed salmon, and I chose another fish, mahi mahi, which was fried but seemed more breaded than fried — perfect. It was a new entry on the menu. The drinks, Patron margaritas, were plain, a surprise. A photographer gave us a memory, and we bought an extra picture.
With the travel and the time change for Deborah, we did not last much longer.
We slept until late for Deborah, 6ish local time.
Thanks for reading!
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