Portland’s nickname is “the Rose City” [same as Toulouse, France, but there it’s for the color of the bricks and here it’s for the roses]. Portland makes a big deal out of the first rose blooms of the year. They have parades and more parades, boat races, concerts, an amusement park and … fireworks. It seems to us like another indicator that the residents are so excited that the winter rains (and snows) have ended that they really want to celebrate.
Friday was for fireworks. Twenty continuous minutes of them. None of that launch one, wait for it to explode, wait for the smoke to blow away, then launch another. This was grand finale level stuff for almost the whole time.
The sun sets very late here in the summer, so they started the show at 10:15 PM. Luckily Maxine’s cousin, a Californian who’s been up here for 25 years, suggested a super location to watch the fireworks and avoid the crowds.
Earlier in the afternoon, we spent nearly 3 hours walking the urban part of Portland, called the Pearl District. Lots of interesting shops and restaurants.
Even earlier in the day, I rented a zipcar.com for two hours to go to the Oak Bottom Public House (not worth it!) while Maxine worked out. My car, named Iberia (zipcar names its cars) was waiting 476 steps from our house front door.
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