Pacific Northwest Tour, PART II – Port Townsend

**Rex_Tremende** · 29th October 07, 04:06 PM

On our way back to Anacortes we caught a glimpse of Mt. Baker across the Sound.

After meandering down Whidbey Island, we took another ferry to Port Townsend, arriving near dusk, …

…and stayed at Manresa Castle, a former Victorian manse-turned Jesuit school-turned hotel.

**ccga3359** · 29th October 07, 04:17 PM

Simply wonderful. I only spent a week in Vancouver (Canada) they have some glorious vistas in that corner of the continent.

**cessna152towser** · 29th October 07, 04:27 PM

Excellent pics - I love that sunset from the ferry.

**GMan** · 30th October 07, 11:40 AM

Stunning for sure!

**Alan H** · 30th October 07, 05:33 PM

I love Port Townsend. We got up for the Wooden Boat Festival every couple of years, last was summer 2006.

**McMurdo** · 30th October 07, 05:37 PM

Wonderful pictures again Rex.

**Oldhiker** · 30th October 07, 08:23 PM

I want you to pay my increase in property tax when everybody moves here

nice pictures, glad you had a good trip. If you want similar views go to Scotland, amazing similarites between the US NW & Scotland

**Rex_Tremende** · 31st October 07, 03:48 PM

Originally Posted by Rex_Tremende

...After meandering down Whidbey Island, we took another ferry to Port Townsend, arriving near dusk, …

…and stayed at Manresa Castle, a former Victorian manse-turned Jesuit school-turned hotel.

As some of you have noted from my photos, it was a Utili-kilted week for me on my vacation in Washington. For the most part my kilts were ignored or brought smiles to a few faces, though there were a few quizzical looks from people in Bellingham and Anacortes – these surprised me.

There are only two kilt stories worth relating here – this is the first:

On day 2 of our trip, Ken and I arrived late to Manresa Castle. As we were unloading the bags from our car, I noticed a large group of women crowding the hotel lobby. Fortunately, by the time we got to the door, most of the group had disappeared down the hallway to the restaurant/lounge section of the old manse.

The last woman in the group was still in the lobby when we came in. She turned to me to look me over, and asked (with a slight fake Scottish accent, to boot), “Where are you from? Are you from Scotland?”

I looked at her plainly and replied, “No. Cincinnati.”

“You’re from Cincinnati, and you’re dressed like that?” she sneered. At this I sort of stiffened up, raised an eyebrow, and gave her a kind of Judith Martin cock of the head.

She fled down the hall before I could ask her in whose country is it fashionable to wear the pink boas that she and all her gal-pals had draped around their necks.

Regards,
Rex.