Portland: Where Young People Go to Retire

Portland ranks. Microbreweries, public transit, being green, coffee—this city tops a lot of lists. Including my own before moving to Denver, when I thought I’d move to Oregon sight unseen because…well, did you read the list mentioned above?

Our first foray into Portland was narrated by a blustery cab driver who pointed out all the ilks of the city: hipsters, homeless, Occupyers, and bored housewives. He mentioned the last sect because there had been an influx of women coming through Portland due to a namedrop in Fifty Shades of Grey. We assured him that wasn’t why we were there, but it was hard to prove it when we were heading to the real hotbed for these touring ladies obsessed with a fictional character: our hotel, The Heathman. 

With a storied past full of haunting tales, famous authors, and apparently a steamy fictional rendezvous in the latest title to hit female bookshelves (ok, last reference to that terrible piece of writing), TheHeathman Hotel was built in the 1920’s and has been a legend ever since. How did we score a spot in this famed downtown haunt? A last minute deal running on Hotels.com for $100 a night. 

We set off to explore the new city and wander in the direction of the Pearl District. When we bumped into a bustling bar with people literally spilling out of it, we decided to stop in. Dinner at Deschutes along with a double IPA hit the spot (they call it an “Experimental IPA” and that’s exactly what I was in the mood for: experimenting). While the food wasn’t almighty, the beer certainly made an impression. 

The next day—our only full day in the City of Roses—was packed with terrible (delicious) food and too much (just enough) beer, in addition to some major attractions throughout the city. A friend recommended Stumptown Coffee and it didn’t disappoint. It seems in Portland if there’s a line for something, it usually lives up to the great expectations you assign to it. Although given more time to explore, surely for every business with a line out the door there’s an equally awesome one around the corner that just hasn’t been discovered yet. 

Coffee in hand, we found ourselves in another line, this time for a thing of myth and lore. A treat so tasty and a morsel so mouth-watering, the line extended beyond anything reasonable. But there we stood: determined to savor a sample of the legendary Voodoo Donughts. The delectable and death-defying donut-making machine is the cream of the crop in all sweet circles of confectionery caliber. Voodoo is at the vanguard of making innovative and edible creations: maple and bacon, Captain Crunch, and at one time before being declared illegal, Pepto Bismol—all in donut format. 

After enjoying every bite of our breakfast consisting of solely sugar-based products, we attempted to walk off at least a few of the calories we just ingested with glee. Back in the Pearl District, we entered Powell’s Books: a bookstore so large, you need a map to navigate it. This is not a sarcastic exaggeration—there is literally a color-coded map at the entrance. Feeling like a sugar-fueled Magellan exploring the open sea of new and used titles, I was living a book publisher’s dream up and down the aisles of the largest independent bookstore in the world. If the beer and donuts don’t persuade you to peruse Portland, this certainly should! 

 

A few hours later, and just around the corner from this magical maze of new and used books, Jo and I discovered food cart central at the corner of Fifth and Stark. The square was lined with carts of all varieties with matching varieties of people lined up to get a taste. Indian, German, Thai, Middle Eastern, Mexican—it was a food lover’s paradise. Using the handy UrbanSpoon app, we found one of the highest rated hot dog stands and indulged in a Bro-Dog, custom made to order by a jovial “bro” manning the cart.

To wash it all down, we found Rogue Ales and swallowed a sample tray of beverages ranging from porter to lager. The best part about Rogue is the art that comes on the bottles: fun, detailed, and at times creepy, the bottle art makes this stop a must on the Portland brew tour. There are other art tour alternatives that don’t involve a brewpub, particularly in the Pearl District where the art galleries are more frequent than the pubs. 

Despite Portland’s primo public transportation system, we mostly walked the streets to get a feel for the atmosphere. We found it clean and comfortable, with a definite young person vibe. Hipsters were in full force and the comedy show Portlandia nails it when they say the 90s are alive in Portland. They also dub it the place where young people go to retire. We couldn’t help but wonder why there were so many young people wandering the streets in the middle of a Tuesday. Sure, we were part of that group of do-nothing twentysomethings acting like we were on vacation—but we were on vacation! And unless Portland had become a hub of jetsetters, it was a bizarre anomaly that didn’t go unnoticed. Especially when you’re being asked for change by people your age listening to iPods.

The entrance to Chinatown looked like every other entrance to Chinatowns across the nation, and isn’t really worth wandering through once you’ve had mai-tai’s in San Francisco’s Chinatown not 48 hours before. The greenspace in Portland was plentiful and a walk along the water’s edge proved this city wasn’t just full of hipsters, but also families and young professionals.

Later that night we spent too much money at a swanky bar named Central, where the bartenders crafted original cocktails based on your liquor preference. My concoction consisted of gin and melon, while Jo consumed a variation of the same. They slap on a $15 price tag per cocktail thanks to what they consider an ingenious display of bartending aptitude, when really they’re just mixing drinks like any other bartender might, but calling it “Dealer’s Choice.” That’s what we get for taking advice from our hotel concierge. 

The next day Jo had to catch an early flight so I spent the morning solo wandering around the city on foot and via the herald public transit system. It was easy to navigate—possibly easier than Denver’s lightrail system, which is already a breeze. To kill some time before my flight, I stopped in at a chic Lebanese restaurant in the heart of downtown for some people watching and hummus—an excellent combination. Habibi Restaurant presented a full plate that would keep me going the rest of the day.

My time in Portland was coming to a close and a $2.40 ticket on the lightrail took me directly to the airport. A next to nothing security line had me at my gate in less than twenty minutes, and the flight itself was one of the cheapest domestics to/from Denver. 

There’s no doubt I’ll be back to Portland, and perhaps one day to live there. Although in all honesty the population of people will be what prevents me from making this a permanent residence. While all pleasant, the crowd seemed a bit perfunctory with an air of superiority. Superfunctory? Perfuperior? Either way, it can best be summed up in the Portlandia video. It's worth a trip just to revisit the 90s. So Portland still ranks…in microbreweries, donuts, and as one of my top US cities to visit.