We reached to ocean and the coastal highway 101 at Florence. I think it’s really funny, how many small towns and even cities in the US are named after European cities, and even countries. From what I’ve read, it’s mostly because the first settlers at the place that eventually turned into a city named their new homes after their old homes in the old world. So, we have Florence and Waterloo and Lebanon and really, the settlers must have had better imaginations than to think that the name wouldn’t become confusing once the settlements started growing. But no.
So, just outside of Florence, Oregon, lies a small park called Darlingtonia Wayside. The only attraction there is the small bog where the insect eating, extremely oddlooking flower Darlingtonia californica grows. It’s endemic to the southern Oregon and northern California coast, so it’s quite special. Just look at it!
Well, the park had a couple of pretty trees too.
Further south lies the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area. It’s an area of sand dunes stretching along almost all of Oregon’s southern coast, which makes it the largest seaside dune area in the States. And the dunes get pretty big too. Nothing compared to the dunes in the Namib, but still. Hanna found them impressive. We chose to walk part of the John Dellenbeck trail, which is where the really big dunes are.
There are also wild rhododendrons growing just next to the sand dunes. I didn’t know that rhododendrons could be wild. Stupid of me. Everything must have been wild at one point or another. These rhododendrons where huge.
We stopped to eat a very late lunch/early dinner of delicious fish n’ chips (the deliciousness might be atleast partly due to our extreme hunger) in Brandon. After eating our fill (and getting the rest of our meal in a doggybag), we went for a stroll in the town. And what a town. It felt like it had completely been built for the tourists. So cute, but completely empty!
No, those kinds of places kind of spook me. I prefer the dirty ones where people actually live.
Oh, but I do like traffic signs.
This is just outside the tiny village of Denmark. And looking at it, the name doesn’t feel that far fetched. Hills, grass and cows. Add a couple of pigs and a blond guy drinking beer for breakfast, and you would have like a small piece of that funny country, accidentally separated by an ocean and a continent from it’s motherland.
So, finally, when the sun was just about to set, we reached Port Orford, where we had decided to spend the night. And the moment I stepped out of the car, the fresh ocean breeze hit me with the smell of salt and seaweed and eternity. Sure, mountains are cool and cities can be awesome – but nothing beats the ocean.
Katja Malmborg 