FRIDAY | Back on American soil as we headed to the Port exit we came face to face with a stern immigration officer. He grilled us on our travels, we we’d changed cars, which cities we’d visited, when we’re flying out of the country and if our journey was for business or pleasure. Usually calm in these pressure situations I found myself stumbling at his question of where we had stayed the previous few nights. For whatever reason the name of where we had just come from escaped me. I looked to Ash for help and she jumped in with the answer, and soon enough we’d convinced him of our good intentions and we were allowed through. The town of Port Angeles was a harbour town that sprawled out under the shadow of the Olympic National park. It felt hectic on the narrow roads that winded along the docks as the ferry travelers dispersed onto the nearby highways. We hit the 101 heading East towards the quirky accommodation we’d settled on for our last night on mainland America. Nestled in the back paddocks of Sequim was our accommodation for the evening: Redcaboose Getaway. An BnB made up off eight renovated and themed train carriages. Reception and the dining room was at the front of the lot and here we were met by the owner and train conductor Olaf. We’d picked the ‘Grape Escape’ for ourselves and the wine theme room did not disappoint. Complete with copper slipper tub with views out to the garden, our railroad car was an East Coast style carriage with bay windows and electric mantel fireplace. With twilight, soon upon us we were quick to ditch our bags and explore the nearby carriages on the lush premises. For dinner, we took the recommendation of our host and headed down the curvy backroads to Dockside Grill overlooking Sequim Bay. Despite the empty tables, we were informed by the flustered hostess, who was no older than 15, that it would be an hour wait to be seated. Happy to soak in the view and not keen to find an alternate dinner venue we agreed to wait. After a walk along the foreshore we settled in to watch a menacing seal duck in and out of view in the marina. When we were finally seated for dinner the place remained half-full and yet the service was still average. Our waitress seemed run off her feet trying to service us and two nearby tables. If that wasn’t frustrating enough she whisked away our entrée of baked cheese before we’d had the chance to finish it. Luckily the cocktails were good and the mains were delicious, so it wasn’t a total bust. Back at the Railway Car I enjoyed a lush post dinner bath that allowed me to soak in the setting sun over the Olympic National park whilst Ash read in front of the fireplace. It was a low key, non-eventful evening and it was bliss. SATURDAY | Breakfast was served promptly at 8:30am in the main carriage. Cooked by Charalotte and served by Olaf we were treated to the most extravagant breakfast meal of the trip thus far. The only other people staying onsite were a young couple from Seattle. Massive train enthusiasts they’d been coming here for a couple of years now. They were super keen to chat and so over our three-course meal we talked with them about our holidays, politics, life in America, life in Australia, religion and the issue & challenges of homelessness. It was some heavy chatter and all before 10am. Lost in conversation we left ourselves limited time to check-out, and so after a fond farewell we rushed back to the Caboose, throw our stuff into our bags and made a beeline for the highway. We needed to be in Seattle for a mid-afternoon flight but on the suggestion of our new friends we took the highway south that snaked along Hood Canal. The hills that shaded the highway were lined with dense lush green pine trees that appeared to have grown in perfectly straight rows. We blasted the tunes as we sailed along the 101, taking in the last of the winter snow that capped the mountain tops and trying to permanently brand the image in our minds of the way the lake glistered under the spring sun. We stopped on the outskirts of Olympia for lunch at a family run Italian restaurant. Even though the blaring sun had created an uncomfortably warm day we sat outside on the patio and scoffed down a couple of pizzas. Then in the blaze of the early afternoon we were back on the main road heading north to Seattle Airport. Despite being tempted by turn offs to Portland and Utah we stayed the course and arrived at Sea-Tac international airport with plenty of time to spare. The process of returning the car, getting across to the main terminal and checking in was all a breeze. By this point in the adventure we had airport check-ins down to the fine art of minimal conversation and lots of walking with purpose. We filled the time wandering aimlessly through the terminal before a quick snack at Wolfgang Puck Express before it was finally our turn to board Alaska Air flight 815 to Lihue, Hawaii.
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