Mini Boston

I looked down the one way streets at the older building sharing space with the new, Art Deco and glass woven between the stone and the brick, and I thought of Boston. Something about Portland, OR was so similar to home: the busy streets, the small shops, the inaccessibility of a parking spot, the whole atmosphere of this city.

The first historic sign that we passed seemed to confirm my perception. "Portland", the sign said only won its name by a single coin toss. The loosing name? "Boston".

Labor Day weekend was an ideal time to have come here. Once a year Portland closes it's downtown streets and opens its doors to Art Quake. The courtyards and sidewalks become filled with artists, street musicians, mimes, dancers and booths offering every delectable delicacy from elephant ears to double chocolate tara-misu squares. Not being sure what most of these things were, we opted for a frozen yogurt and a vegetarian roll-up from the local Rock Bottom Brewery (very similar to Boston's Commonwealth Brewery).

Later we visited a section of town that we were told would remind us of Harvard Square. Sure enough, tucked below Washington park and the rose gardens, we found NE 23rd Ave.

We enjoyed Portland so much that we spend four days there. On the forth evening we finally waved good-bye and rolled down Highway 26 toward the coast.