The rain has re-joined us. There’s nothing like a grey motel on a grey motorway to lift the spirits. By the time we reach Downtown Seattle my shoes are flooded and no amount of lingering in the Klondlike Gold Rush museum is going to help our cause. The trek to Pike Place Market proves that miracles can happen. Suddenly the sky is a seamless blue. There are stalls of flowers, pickles and greek yoghurt, oysters, clam chowder: plenty of lunch potential. We choose fish and chips.
Sudden realisation that I might not be able to cope with anybody else asking whether Hattie and I are twins. They always look so bemused: I’m just sad that we can’t do any tricks to complete the Freak Show Effect. The limp is still there as well; the rain returns with a vengeance and I’m feeling guilty for being grumpy in Seattle. But then we’re on the top of the Space Needle at sunset and I forget everything.
To The Table 