Trip to Alaska Inside Passage and Anchorage

Coming back to Sacramento from vacation has always been relatively easy except for this last trip, the exploration of the Inside Passage of Alaska. I sit in my home Land Park office with the door open and hear the traffic from I-5 way off in the distance, and I think: it’s not the same thing. It’s not waves lapping the shore. Water is the driving force in the Inside Passage, it’s everywhere — the be-all and end-all of existence. It’s not the thunder of glacier calving. It’s not ravens’ chipper discussions of disagreement, there are no Tlinget drums a-thumping or dancers singing; it’s just those horrid skunks runningamuck in Land Park.

Still. It’s good to be home.

Every trip away changes a person, but the trip to Alaska was more life changing than I expected. It’s not like I want to pack up and move to Alaska — remember, I grew up in Minnesota; not that different temperature-wise — but the frontier, the wild frontier, it really is wild, did I mention the wild frontier?

It’s no secret that I don’t really like most people. So, Elizabeth, a person might say, how did you end up in real estate for so many decades if you don’t like people? That would be a fair question. There is no answer to that question. I guess I’ve been fairly fortunate that the people I work with are actually pretty darned nice people! Or maybe it’s just the nice people who choose me to represent them? I dunno. I’m not complaining.

But I do know that I brought way too much stuff on the trip to Alaska. Being gone for about 2 weeks, I wore 3 pairs of pants, but I packed 10 pair. My jeans, hahahahaha, I could not fit into them after the first day. Memo-to-self, on subsequent trips, bring fewer articles of clothing because one can always buy what one does not carry, and if one can’t buy it, one can do without or wear it again.

If you do intend to take a cruise through the Inside Passage of Alaska and have been holding off because you dislike those large cruise ships, you can’t go wrong with the Alaskan Dream out of Sitka. The worst thing is the meals are so fabulous that even if you skip dessert, you’re likely to gain a pound or three.

My favorite present from our trip is a gift from Tracy, the editor of Alaska Magazine. It’s a pair of socks with a bird and an Alaskan flower. I would not have bought them for myself, but now I don’t have to wish I did because Tracy did. It was such a kind gesture. Tracy met us for dinner in Anchorage at the Crow’s Nest at the top of Captain Cook Hotel. I have one thing to say about Captain Cook Hotel. Shame on you for no breakfast room service. And you call yourself a hotel!

But the view is spectacular from the Crow’s Nest. The poor waitress was a suddenly former hostess who had to fill in because they were short of a couple of waitresses that night. You’ve got to wonder about that. Where do they find people to staff these positions?

Like the poor people at the Anchorage Visitor’s Center. Couple of women susss-susshing about stuff, talking to people, when we approach. One of the staff members mumbles something to the other: “Wow, that woman was disgruntled.” I guess she complained about the weather in Anchorage. The weather in Anchorage sucks, it’s what it is, get over it. I sauntered up next to the counter and blurted: “Disgruntled people should be bopped in the head.”

Oh, my, that set off a flurry of apologies. They are Ambassadors for Anchorage. So sorry for talking about others in our presence.

I speak my mind, though. No apologies. When we were in Seward, I chatted with an employee over the counter when finishing a transaction to purchase a moose wind chime at the Sealife Museum. She shared that she moved from Michigan to Seward because the time seemed to be right for the move — boyfriend, mother, relatives, stuff — and she dove into all sorts of personal reasons why the time was now for the move.

I could say only that:

Now is Always the Time.

She verbally appreciated. Reflected upon. Several levels. I hope you do, too.