seattle day two

Currently listening to: Back in my Life – Alice Deejay

I want you back in my life
Want you back by my side
‘Cause that’s where you belong and I
I won’t give you up
I will never stop
My love is much too strong

I don’t think I’ve slept that well in ages. No middle-of-the-night tossing or turning—just uninterrupted rest until soft daylight started creeping through the curtains.

When I finally opened my eyes, I was greeted with a view that made me smile. The city, the water, the light. Anna really hooked us up with this room. She didn’t have to go that hard—but she did, and I’m grateful.

We headed down to The George for breakfast. With my credit card perks, I get $75 worth of breakfast every morning plus $100 to put toward food or spa treatments. You better believe I was going to use every cent of that because the food at the hotel restaurant is pricey AF for what it is.

I went with the Olympic Breakfast: two eggs, herbed potatoes, sourdough toast, and chicken apple sausage. It looked amazing, but I forgot how little I can actually eat in the morning (I don’t normally eat breakfast, I know, the most important meal of the day). After a few bites of egg, a handful of potatoes, a sausage, and a piece of toast, I tapped out. I also had multiple cups of coffee just to jumpstart my system.

Note to self: next time, go lighter. I hate wasting food.

We hit the road after breakfast, headed toward Port Madison to visit the Suquamish Museum—about a 90-minute drive from Seattle.

Fun fact: I used to live in Minnesota and spent a lot of time on Native American reservations there. That experience really shaped how I travel—I like to learn about the Indigenous communities of wherever I go, especially through their museums, powwows,  and cultural centers.

This time, I wanted to learn about the Salish, a coastal tribe I admittedly didn’t know much about.

The Suquamish, as I discovered, are one of more than twenty tribal groups that were part of the Treaty of Point Elliott. Chief Seattle represented both the Suquamish and Duwamish tribes during that signing. But the treaty process was flawed—drafted in English, translated into Chinook jargon, then into Lushootseed and Straits Salish. With so many layers of translation, misunderstandings were inevitable. Add to that the fact that Congress didn’t ratify the treaty until four years later, and it’s no surprise that many of its terms were violated—especially around land ownership, reservation boundaries, and fishing rights.

A mile away from the museum stood a memorial pole for Charles Lawrence, a tribal leader who survived the trauma of boarding schools and war. Behind the pole is Old Man House Park, where the largest winter longhouse in the Salish Sea once stood.

On the way back to Seattle, we made a quick stop at the Duwamish Longhouse and Cultural Center. We wandered around, reading about their history and culture. I grabbed a bag of huckleberry water taffy and a pair of earrings handmade by a local tribal member as a gift for a friend—she’s married to a Canadian First Nations dude, and I knew she’d appreciate the thought behind it.

We got back to the hotel and chilled for an hour before linking up with my cousin, Caroline.

I’d been driving most of the day, but it wasn’t so bad. Seattle has a way of wrapping you in greenery. It reminded me a bit of Minnesota—cooler, less humid, wetter, greener. It was actually very comforting to me.

Caroline suggested dinner at Ray’s Boathouse, which overlooks Puget Sound and the Olympic Mountains. It’s won awards for best seafood and outdoor dining, and most importantly, it has parking. That alone made it a win. Driving around Seattle looking for parking will test your faith.

We all shared an appetizer of crispy fried calamari with mini sweet peppers and green goddess dressing. So good.

I was dealing with decision fatigue, so I went with something familiar: fish and chips with fries and coleslaw. I know, I’m fucking basic. I’m at one of the best seafood restaurants and I get boring ass fish and chips. Between the calamari and being pretty wiped out, I barely finished half the cod. Skipped the coleslaw entirely because… dessert.

We decided to hit the original Starbucks Reserve Roastery in Capitol Hill. Caroline works for corporate Starbucks, so she could hook us up with a discount on merch and treats. Parking was going to be a nightmare (shocker), so we all crammed into one car to avoid extra drama.

I’ve been to the roastery in New York, but this one is special—it’s the OG. There’s something almost theatrical about the space: the roasting area, the hoppers, the pneumatic tubes shooting beans across the ceiling. It’s like a museum and a coffee lab rolled into one.

They offer a rare collection of coffees—including beans from Malawi and Rwanda. We didn’t need the guided tour because Caroline is basically a walking Wikipedia of coffee. I wanted to try the espresso martini, but I knew if I had one, I’d pass out on the spot.

Here are the hoppers, This is how their freshly roasted beans are delivered through their pneumatic system.  This is where the master baristas tend, they have to have x amount of years at a regular Starbucks before being able to work here. It does take time to get the drinks, nothing like the regular Starbucks either.

I went with a classic Americano made with Rwanda Sholi Kundwa beans. Caroline ordered a decaf affogato and insisted I try the raspberry cornetto. I wasn’t planning to get a pastry, but damn if it didn’t pair perfectly with my drink. I’m glad she twisted my arm.

They had sandwiches like prosciutto + fontina, smoked salmon + cream cheese, and prosciutto + Parmigiano Reggiano—all on various kinds of cornetto bread. If I hadn’t been so full, I would’ve ordered the salmon. Maybe next time.

After hanging out there for a couple of hours, we dropped Caroline off at her car near Shilshole Bay and made our way back downtown. By this time, I was starting to get familiar with the roads and what the signs mean. Sorta.

The second I got to the hotel room, I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and face-planted into the bed. I had over 10,000 steps in before the afternoon hit. No scrolling, no chatting, no nothing. I was knocked out cold.