portland

after 12 hours of travel by bus, train and foot,
we finally made it to our Portland accommodation ONLY TO BE DENIED.
the hostel was full. so were the others. it appeared we were sleeping on the
street this particular night. luckily, we got tipped off by a nice motorcycle enthusiast.
colin used his godlike-public-transit-navigation skills to get us out to the country.
it was as if we bused from dtT.O. to oakville. morale was at an all time low. we werent
even in portland anymore. low and behold, the accommodation turned out to be gatsby's
american dream. a huge estate featuring its own vineyard, brewery, distillery, spa, golf course, vegetable garden and JERRY GARCIA sculpture. we laughed like dracula for awhile in our white
robes, soaking it up in the huge hot tubs. that night we wet our whistles with some seattleites and a selfproclaimed kewi. wake up was followed by a 12 oclock wine tour - ha!

pictures to come.