The Arctic Club is done up, not surprisingly, to look like an explorer's club: large leather seats, excessive black and white portraits of men with moustaches, dark wood, endless maps, etc. I love it, I want to come back here already and I just set foot in the place. I'm now going to explore downtown Seattle and find Pike's Place Market as I'd very much like to intercept a fish.
So Pike's Place Market is one of the coolest places to go if you're hungry and into good, locally made food and spirits. I walked around, fell instantly in love with the place and it's history (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pike_Place_Market), and couldn't decide where to eat. Seriously, you could spend a week, three meals a day, and never eat at the same place. So cool, so local, so good, so what? I decided I'd like to do a sample lunch so I bought a salami from a local producer, cheese made by a bunch of talented women, fresh baked bread, and a glass of Pinot Grigio from upstate Washington, and one of the best apples I've ever had. Nice lunch. I sat in a coffee house and listened to some jazz and decided that if global warming helps this place out I might have to move.
So I saw this sign and started salivating but decided that patience was the better option. Perhaps I'll visit the pub a bit later. I do have reservations at an Italian joint later and was told by one of the barristas at one of the six Starbucks I passed that the Funhouse was the place to go. Music and booze in Seattle? What could go wrong?
Peace out, bitches!