A coworker at our hotel used to say to our guests, that you can’t find a bad restaurant in Friday Harbor, because it has to survive the long winter with us judgmental, spoiled islanders, so it better be good.
Regardless of whether I’m in a relationship or single, I take at least a weekend trip by myself every year. It gives me room to process, check in with myself and decide what’s next for me. I call it: mini vacations for my soul.
My Dad was born in Seattle. He grew up here and enthusiastically does all the outdoorsy things you are supposed to do as a Washingtonian, hiking, skiing, camping, fishing. He wears shorts in January and doesn’t own an umbrella. He loves the ocean and us three kids and, until very recently, he had never seen an Orca whale from up close.
It had been a harrowing week and it was only Monday. I know, right? We have teenagers. Enough said. After both boys announced sleepover plans for the weekend, my wife talked me into going to San Juan Island for a getaway. We spent our honeymoon there...
"What a delightful place to stay!...
The staff is wonderful and the little extras
make it a comfortable place to stay."
