Visit Forks and experience Twilight

With Eclipse in cinemas now, I think it is the perfect time to recap my visit to Forks, Washington. We went a couple of months ago at the end of a three week road trip from Chicago to Seattle. Forks is about four hours from Seattle but I made a deal with Scott that I’d go to the Boeing Factory with him if he went to Forks with me. He agreed. I don’t think he realized what he was getting himself into.

While I don’t really consider myself a twihard fan, I certainly enjoy the stories and general hooplah around the movies and I totally predicted RPattz and KStew were doing the nasty way before US Weekly said they were.

If you’re new to this Twilight craze, you’ll need to know that Forks is the town Stephenie Meyer decided to use as the backdrop to her vampire/werewolf/human love triangle saga.

(It’s also the rainiest place in the US. This is important because the vampires don’t ever go out in the sun because they sparkle in the sunlight. Just read the books. They’ll tell you everything.)

As I understand it, Stephenie Meyer researched the town but never actually visited it before writing the books. Also the way certain aspects of the town are described in the book are different to how they are portrayed in the movies. (This was very hard for Scott to come to terms with. As if we haven’t suspended belief enough, now we have to believe that Edward Cullen lived in that house?! I was about ready to smack him upside the head by stop #3 on the Twilight map.)

Now, with all those points out of the way, let me take you on a virtual tour of Forks.

Once we passed Port Angeles, I had my camera ready but that stretch of road between the two towns is pretty long. I didn’t actually take any photos until we saw this:

And we could only take this photo after waiting for several cars full of middle-aged women to finish up posing in front of the sign. Then we made our way to the Forks Visitor’s Center where we picked up a map of all the Twilight sights in town.

As I said, Stephenie Meyer didn’t base the houses in the books on specific houses in the town but residents in Forks have fully embraced the Twilight mania and have offered their homes as stops on the tours. You can take photos by the “Home of the Swans” sign but don’t go up to the door. Real people live here.

The biggest home in Forks is a big white farmhouse style house which was meant to be the Cullen Residence. It’s actually a B&B so you’re welcome to go up on the porch and read the messages Esme leaves every day about where the Cullens are.

Esme said Edward wasn’t around but I saw him lurking behind the door. (It was sunny so he couldn’t come out to play.)

As you can see, small businesses also take advantage of all the Twilight tourists. Who knew the treaty line was sponsored by Pepsi?

The beach at La Push is gorgeous and worth a visit.

I kid you not there was some sort of animal rustling around in the forest in La Push. I snapped a few photos before the animal came bounding out of the bushes. It turned out to be a big, fluffy blackish-brown dog. Whose dog? Not sure – it came out of nowhere and didn’t have a collar…so I am going to pretend it was a wolf.

We actually stayed in a Twilight-themed room at the Pacific Inn Motel. Highly recommend this for the ultimate cheese factor. Check out the photos of our Edward Cullen room.

The main street in Forks has maybe eight stores and two of them are completely Twilight related. The merchandise is absolutely overpriced but they are definitely worth checking out. If only to take photos of yourself standing in the gazebo between Bella and Edward.

I only bought a few bits and pieces. They had everything from the dolls to dvds to cosmetics to posters to jewelry.

Sadly, there isn’t much in Forks and you can tell the residents have really taken on board the Twilight fans because I’m guessing they wouldn’t get many visitors otherwise.

Which is a real shame because the area is absolutely breathtaking. Dazzling, even.

Leftovers

I try really hard not to talk about work on my blog. For some people, that may be difficult because we spend more time at work than we do at home. I spend more time with my coworkers than Scott. I actually really like my coworkers so I choose to spend time with them outside of work hours as well. That’s a whole lot of my life spent associated with my job and yet I have never wanted to talk about it much because…well, nothing good ever came from talking about your job on the Internet. Am I right or am I right?

When we were on our road trip, we met people living their dreams. We met two former teachers and Fulbright Scholars who gave it all up to open a bed & breakfast in Montana and focus on their writing. Their neighbor runs a hole-in-the-wall bar next to the B&B. He used to be a lawyer in Philadelphia but one day he thought, what am I doing in this suit in this city? He wanted to wear offensive t-shirts and sell beer and be his own boss. So he did just that.

After meeting people like this for three weeks straight, it was hard to be excited about coming back to England. On top of that, a good friend of mine was in the beautiful and courageous process of donating a kidney to her cousin. I could hardly talk about it without getting choked up because, well, it seemed like everyone was doing something meaningful but me. What’s my dream going to be? How do I know what I am meant to be doing in this life? Who can I give my kidney to???

The day we returned to work after the road trip I sent Scott a melodramatic email about how I was feeling frustrated with things, feeling like I needed something more. I told him I was disappointed that I wasn’t making a difference in someone’s life.

My kind, thoughtful husband let me rant and simply wrote back, “You make a difference in mine.”

***

Two days later, I saw a coworker over lunch and she had mentioned that she had sent me details of a job she thought I’d be perfect for. I hadn’t received her message while we were traveling and figured I’d missed the deadline but what the heck, I’ll apply anyway. On paper the job looked pretty good. After my first interview, I felt really positive about it. And I guess the most important point has been mentioned already in the previous sentence. I felt good about the job. I felt something and hadn’t that been exactly what I was looking for? I wanted to feel good about what I was doing, how I was contributing, progressing, sharing, developing, living. This job excited me. I felt I could make a difference. And luckily they thought I could too because I was offered the job.

***

It’s not so different from my previous job. I’m not opening a bar or dedicating the next year to writing my first novel. I don’t think it’s my dream but I think it may spark some new ideas of who I want to be and what I want to do. What I can say is that I think I will be happy there. I think I will grow there. I think it will be good for me and I will be good for them. And that’s enough, isn’t it?

***

We went to the cinema this past weekend and we bought a bag of popcorn and Diet Coke. We ate most of the popcorn before the film even started. We left the burned bits and the half-popped pieces in the bottom of the bag. When the film was over and most everyone had left the theater, we got up to leave. I grabbed the Diet Coke but noticed Scott had left the bag of popcorn on the ground.

“Why didn’t you grab the bag of popcorn to throw away?”

Scott, busy doing something on his Blackberry, mumbled, “It doesn’t matter. People are paid to clean the theater.”

As we were walking out, I looked back at our row of seats, feeling guilty about the popcorn when I noticed a man standing where we had been sitting,  I didn’t think there was anyone left in the theater.

He looked at me and I thought he was going to shout something about us being lazy and/or rude for not throwing away our trash. But he just kept staring at me, saying nothing. As we walked towards the exit, I whispered to Scott that I thought the man was going to approach us about how we left our trash. Scott scoffed. I looked back to see the man picking up our bag of popcorn and another bag in the row in front of ours.

We left the cinema and got in our car. I watched the man walk out of the cinema and cross the road in front of us. He had our popcorn bag bundled up under his arm and two other bags folded in his hands.

“Look, he took our popcorn,” I said.

We sat there, watching this man take our leftovers and get in an old beater.

I don’t know his circumstances but I think it’s safe to assume this man was in need of food if he was going around picking up bags of burnt popcorn and half-eaten hot dogs.

Scott said, “That’s really sad. I feel sorry for him”

“Me too. I wish we had left more popcorn.”

***

I’ve been thinking about that man and the popcorn. I don’t know what the right thing would have been to do – should I have approached him with some money? Should I just pretend I didn’t see it so I wouldn’t embarrass him? I don’t know. Do people with plenty of money go around picking up other people’s leftovers just because they hate waste? In which case, should I not feel sorry for him at all?

I don’t know.

All I know is that it snapped me out of feeling sorry for myself. I am lucky enough to have a job, a home, food on the table, a loving family, the list goes on. So what if I don’t know what my big dreams are. So what. I should consider myself lucky to have the opportunity to have dreams at all. I should be so grateful I don’t need a kidney or know of anyone dear to me who needs mine.

I should feel so lucky to enjoy life’s little extras like popcorn at the movies.

Sometimes you need life to give you a good smack once in awhile.

You Capture: sky

A seagull outside Ivar’s in Seattle.

A storm on my right, sunshine on my left somewhere out west.

The most vibrant blue sky I’ve ever seen without a cloud in sight.

Amazing sunset that the locals of Buffalo, Wyoming get to see nearly every night.

What would Oprah do?

I’m skipping ahead here but a post is better than no post. Let’s fast-forward through nine US states and one Canadian province, shall we? And ta-da! We’re in Chicago for my cousin’s wedding.

That first paragraph is a bit confusing. We’re not in Chicago right now. We ended our road trip in Chicago. Keep up, people.

The wedding was wonderful. Seeing my family for three days was better than not at all. We ate pizza and took silly pictures of ourselves in the reflection of the Bean and walked along the lake. The weather was beautiful and made me think I could most definitely live in Chicago (I’d have to figure out somewhere to go during the winter though.)

On our last day there, Scott and I took a cab to Harpo Studios. Sadly we didn’t have tickets to see a show but I wanted to see the studios before Oprah ends her show and leaves Chicago.

We took photos in front of the sign and then visited The Oprah Winfrey Show Store. I was in Oprah-quote heaven. Anyone who knows me well, knows I often start sentences with, “This one time on Oprah…”

The Oprah show is on in the UK but only on satellite tv (Diva TV channel 269 on Sky) and it is my guilty pleasure. Of course some of the episodes are two years old and episodes seem to repeat every two weeks but nevermind.

During many conversations – from best-selling books to whether it’s better to eat turkey bacon or regular bacon to why men cheat – an Oprah episode comes up. So it’s no wonder my former manager made this sign for me:

And it’s no wonder I was in heaven in Chicago.

(Picture me in this chair. Then just leave me here.)

I bought a book  and a mug with the quote, “Live your own dreams.” I’m trying, Oprah, I’m trying.

Tonight I sleep with two men

I keep telling you I have a lot to write about our trip and then I don’t deliver. I write about laundry and boring hotels. Until now.

Sink your fangs into this.

We are staying in a Twilight-themed motel in Forks tonight and OMG you guys I feel like a teenager. (If I were allowed, as a teenager, to spend the night in a motel with a man.)

We’ve gone all around Forks snapping pics of the spots featured in the book but the highlight is definitely our motel room. And maybe the dog I found in the woods by La Push that could have passed for a wolf. From a distance. If you had poor eye sight.

OMG I AM REALLY HERE.

We were joined by gaggles of preteen girls and middle-aged mothers at nearly every stop on the self-guided Twilight tour. Scott stayed in the car mostly and only came out to take a photo of me in front of the “Welcome to Forks” sign. Even then he looked embarrassed and took the photo as fast as he could.

But he loosened up by the end of the evening.

More details to come obviously! No time to blog when I have this waiting for me.

And by this, I mean this bed. The one on the left, under Edward’s watchful eye.

I mean, really! Was there ever any doubt?

No wonder they all went out west

South Dakota. Wow.

I don’t think I have the words to describe how incredible it was to see the Badlands…

Or Mount Rushmore for that matter…

And don’t even ask me to try to describe Custer State Park…

Just add it to your bucket list already.

Cheese and Spam and everything in between

Morning of Day 4, five states in…and we’re in South Dakota at a little motel overlooking Rapid City.

I’ll rewind to Wisconsin where I left off. I know you’ve all been dying to know if I ever found cheese curds.

On our way out of the state, we stopped at Cady’s Cheese Factory in Wilson, Wisconsin in search of curds.

We saw how cheese is made and browsed the cheese shop. After hearing that we came all the way from England, they told us to put on the official cheesehead hat for a picture.

When we returned to the cheese shop after the factory tour, they were bagging cheese curds.  They were still warm. And they were AMAZING. Squeaky, salty cheese – just the way I like it. We bought a bag and also a block of pepper jack. I resisted buying the chocolate cheese fudge.

The woman behind the counter asked how we met each other. Scott said, “Internet.” Of course, it came out as, “In-ta-net” and the woman just stared at us. She asked the question again. This time I answered. “Innernet.”

Ah…the Innernet!

But it wasn’t just Scott who was having trouble being understood.

At the Mall of America, I was ordering food at Taco Bell and I am not familiar with the Taco Bell menu anymore so I suppose I was a bit flustered. Should I add sour cream? Do I want soft or crunchy tortillas? Where is the liquid cheese? (Because I haven’t had enough cheese!)

The teenage girl behind the cash register laughed at me and said, “Are you from Australia?”

Uh…no?

And then I said, “I’m from England.”

I didn’t want to embarrass her by saying I was really from Virginia, it’s just been a really long time since I’ve been to Taco Bell and I want to make the right choice, all right?!  The pressure of it all!

As a kid, I had always wanted to go to the Mall of America. I think it was from all the competitions advertised on tv after kids’ game shows where you could win a trip to the mall. Obviously these days I’m more interested in the shopping rather than the amusement park but I appreciated both.

Of course I had Scott with me reminding me of our itinerary every 20 minutes so I only managed to buy a few things. We had places to get to, you know. Like the Spam Museum.

A whole museum dedicated to Spam! Could it be?

I’ve never tried Spam but I am still interested in how it has become such a successful product. The museum was really well done and best of all, it was free admission and we had just missed a bus load of 4th graders.

There was an exhibit about Spam’s presence in England and we learned most Brits think Spam is a British product because of how popular it was during World War II. What was most interesting is that it’s an American product but England’s supplies of Spam actually come from the Spam plant in Denmark and Spam is not sold in Denmark! (You’ll thank me for this tidbit when you win big at Trivial Pursuit or your local pub quiz.)

They actually had a menu from a restaurant in Huddersfield (Scott’s hometown) because they serve Spam Fritters as an appetizer. Scott made sure he had the obligatory “What a Small World!” photos.

We talked to a few of the employees working at the Spam Museum and they gave us great tips for our road trip. We took their advice on seeing the last “attraction” before leaving Minnesota.

After a quick photo op at the Jolly Green Giant, we crossed into Iowa and drove around the farm lands before traveling on to South Dakota.

I’d say we’re doing pretty well so far. No speeding tickets, no arguments, no terrible weather. And we’ve still got a bag of curds. Life on the road is good.

In America’s Dairyland

Well, this road tripping business isn’t hard at all.

After being upgraded on British Airways and enjoying the lovely, shiny lounge at Heathrow, Scott and I shared a practically private little cubby space on our flight.

Now I know why some people arrive at their destination fresh faced and fully rested. Oh, how the other half lives!

I didn’t arrive fully rested or fresh faced but that’s my own fault. I made myself stay awake. I didn’t want to miss a thing. I was busy playing with all the chair controls – it’s a chair, it’s a bed, it’s a recliner, it’s a bed. A bed! On a plane!

But besides playing with the chair, I played it ultra cool.

I’ll fast forward through an overnight in Chicago and get to the first day of our trip.

Right now we’re in Wisconsin – about an hour from the Minnesota state line. We have had a really nice day touring the Dairy State. Unfortunately I have yet to eat cheese curds and not sure I will get to have any before crossing the state line in a few hours. Do they sell cheese curds at 8 am?

We stopped in Madison for lunch and walked around the University of Wisconsin- Madison campus and the downtown area. It seems like a fun town – lots of bars, restaurants, and cute shops. I wish we could have stayed longer but the road was calling.

We had lunch downtown (I highly recommend the beer cheese soup and sweet potato fries at Zander’s Capitol Grill) and grabbed some fresh gourmet popcorn on our way out.

I had read about The House on the Rock on some travel forums and added it to the list of places I definitely wanted to stop. I couldn’t exactly explain what was there or why I wanted to visit. This seemed to be a common theme because most people who wrote reviews on the tourist attraction said something like this, “I can’t explain it. You just have to see it for yourself.”

We entered the big lodge and handed over $20 each for the privilege of touring some man’s weird house that he built on a rock in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin. Scott was dubious. Once we were out of earshot, he said, “I have a feeling this is going to be one of those cult things where at the end they try to convert you.”

The Infinity Room at The House on the Rock

But…wow, it was worth it. It was freaking weird. Actually down right creepy. I suppose if you had visited during the summer, it wouldn’t have been so creepy because there would have been other people touring the buildings with you but we were literally the only people in this maze of rooms. The rooms were dimly lit and the ceilings were low. Music played quietly in the background and the displays got weirder and weirder at every turn.

Imagine the Playboy mansion (shag carpets, dark little nooks tucked away, long and low sofas, etc) filled with antique musical instruments, an extensive doll collection, oriental artifacts, a giant whale,  and a full size working carousel – to name a few.

Because it’s so dark and you can’t see what’s behind each door, we both jumped a few times at the (very rare) sight of other people. After seeing the doll collection, we turned the corner to see two people slow dancing in front of a wall full of self-playing instruments. I was about to scream bloody murder. The dolls have come to life! But instead I heard Scott’s guffaw and he quickly pushed me into the next exhibit. Turns out they were just really moved by the music.

The only other people we saw were geriatric employees just there to answer questions. Very nice of course but why must they hide in the shadows? We also got the feeling once we left the exhibit, we were being tracked and at any moment all the employees would corner us, kill us, chop our heads off and pop us in jars. Like this guy.

After Scott declared The House on the Rock the perfect setting for a horror movie, I was a nervous wreck through the rest of the attraction.

Luckily the homemade fudge we bought in the gift shop made up for this.

All in all, it was very interesting and filled with curious oddities. We are glad we took the time to visit and cannot stress enough that visiting for yourself is waaay better than looking at these photos. (You can’t even tell that the whale is three stories tall!)

Basically this is how I imagine Neverland Ranch to be. If Neverland Ranch were in Wisconsin.

Westward bound

How did this road trip even come about?

Well, that’s easy. Scott discovered a little town in the middle of nowhere Montana that shares his surname and he declared a couple of years ago that one day he would get there. You know, just to take a picture with the welcome sign.

So I blame his love of Google Maps if this road trip is a disaster (or as so many people have joked – we get in a massive argument two hours in and sit in silence for the rest of the journey.)

There were a couple of reasons why we actually decided to do this:

• We were going to Chicago anyway for my cousin’s wedding and that’s practically halfway to the west coast, right?
• With all the uncertainty around jobs at the end of last year, we decided now or never. *

And then when I got thinking about it, I realized we haven’t had a vacation just the two of us since our honeymoon. Four years ago! That is insane. Because we go on a lot of vacations…so just who are we going with? Weekend breaks with friends, visiting family, going to weddings, etc.

So we’re totally due.

We knew we wanted to end up in Seattle but if you’re in Seattle, you might as well go all the way to the coast. And if you’re going to the coast, you might as well choose to visit La Push. Annnnd if you’re going to La Push, you’re going to pass Forks so really, we are forced to visit the town.

But rest assured this isn’t just a way to get to Forks…I saw Scott had purchased two tickets for a tour of the Boeing factory outside Seattle. Give a little, take a little, I get it.

Of course this is all dependent on us actually making it across the country and not experiencing death by fried cheese curds, bear attack, or a run in with Aryan Nations.**

* Some people – smarter people – would decide to buckle down and prepare for the worst if they lose their job during a recession. Not us. (Actually the worst case scenario was to flee the country, go on the road trip and then take refuge in my parents’ basement should we have our house repossessed.)

** I think we’ll be ok though because of our…well, general whiteness. But just to be safe, we’re going to cross Idaho a little bit further south.

Going places

Today is St. Patrick’s Day and I forgot to wear green. I did receive a care package in the mail from my mom though, filled with various treats including magazines, jelly beans and  shamrock confetti. A quick glance at my facebook newsfeed informs me that all my American friends (even those with no Irish ties whatsoever) are wishing everyone a happy St. Patrick’s Day and planning the day’s festivities which will no doubt feature beer. We just love the Irish in America.

And yes, this year I get to say I’m Irish-British-American and I will be drinking to that.  Thanks to my place of employment for the bottle of bubbly I recently won at a staff event. That’ll go down nicely.

But today is also the one week mark until our vacation. Someone recently said it seems like I am always going on vacation. Does it? Because it sure as hell doesn’t seem like that to me! But ah, yes, the great thing about being British-American is that I get to work in a country where EVERYONE gets at least four weeks of paid holiday. (And I get more than that! I get champagne and a nice holiday package! Woohoo! Everyone, run out and find a European to marry! NOW!)

So, we’re going on a road trip starting in Chicago and ending in Seattle (with an overnight in Forks/La Push. Stop rolling your eyes right this minute. ) Have any tips or suggestions for us?

Talk amongst yourselves. I’ll be here eating jelly beans and drinking champagne.