Downtown Portland in gingerbread

Max, the light rail train, was waiting for us inside the airport. The fare was a dollar. It took us downtown, within two blocks of our hotel. We had arrived for Christmas in Portland.

Stepping off the train downtown, I was panhandled (for my light rail ticket — I gave it to him). Rain was falling but no one carried an umbrella (Portlanders wear hoodies). A goldfish bowl sat on the counter at the front desk of our hotel, a sign identifying the goldfish by name (Buddy and Fred). Another sign listed the names of all the dogs staying in the hotel that night. We were invited to a free wine tasting at five.

Oh yes, I remember this place: it’s Portland. And today is Christmas Eve.

But hey: pictures convey a thousand words. Click on any one of those below to embiggen and read the captions.

The 25-foot Christmas tree at the Benson Hotel

A rare vacant bike lane in downtown. But hey: it’s Christnas Eve!

A favorite eatery. Portland is big on breakfasts.

The checkout line at Powell’s City of Books is almost a city block long

The Portland Streetcar arrives to take us downtown

A favorite brewpub: fifteen ales on tap

Colorful jackets at the Pendleton Woolen Mills outlet store

Seven dogs are sharing the hotel with us tonight.

Two fried eggs, pastrami, toast, and potato latkes. One needn’t be Jewish to enjoy a breakfast like this.

Hoodies in the rain, huddled outside Portland’s food carts. It’s worth the wait.