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30.07.2015

USA: Über Washington nach Oregon

USA: Via Washington to Oregon

The United States of America, the USA or, for the locals, simply America, is the second country we travel to. After six weeks of Canadian friendliness we are a bit spoiled, already at the border crossing it gets complicated.

We have already filled out the ESTA form, which is like a visa without being allowed to be called a visa, in advance. "Welcome to America" it said on the screen. But when we arrive at the border that morning, we quickly realize that the whole thing will not be that easy. I hope, dear reader, that you will take the time to follow these detailed descriptions of the procedure at the border. Time required to read: 10min, time required in reality: 3h.

In good spirits we drive south of Vancouver towards the border crossing. A display on the side of the road says: Expected waiting time 20 minutes. That seems feasible. 5km later, closer to the border, another display: Expected waiting time 40min. Still ok. We hit the queue. A pompous green garden surrounds the street, the USA flag is neatly composed of appropriately colored violets, and on a triumphal arch built in the classicist architectural style it says: May this border be open forever, or something like that. We roll to the barrier. At least half a dozen surveillance cameras are pointed at us. We feel like celebrities in Hollywood. We get a slip of paper asking us to have our passports stamped in the office. All right. The office, built in the bureaucratically pompous cold style of modernism, has a lot of glass in the entrance hall. There's a long line of people waiting: Perhaps a hundred Asians, Africans, Europeans, everyone who cannot be recognized as white Americans at first glance, are facing 12 computer stations for processing. We suspect this process will probably not take longer than 20 minutes.

But it is an illusion. Firstly, only two of the officers actually work on the processes (and here the term work is used in its most flexible interpretation) - after a passport has been stamped, a break seems appropriate: filling the water bottle, updating Facebook - Ok, that is now an insinuation and we digress from the subject.

Two teenagers are being handcuffed in front of everyone.

We stand in this line for 1.5 hours. But we don't get bored. On the one hand, there is no privacy: the counters are all arranged on a large, long table and the queue starts parallel to the table. We inevitably pick up fragments of conversations, extremely personal questions that the border guards ask the travelers. Suddenly the metallic "click concert" known from the movies can be heard across the whole hall, once and twice. Two teenagers are being handcuffed in front of everyone. One is young, white skin with a beard, maybe just over 20, the other black and of similar age. As a side note: Several Canadians have warned us that with a beard one is far more likely to be controlled than without, and the other teenager, well, we guess it's racial profiling. Both are theatrically led into an adjoining room. Less than 10 minutes later they are back in the hall, now without the said handcuffs. We think puzzled: What was the point in that?

Slowly slowly we move forward. Now it's our turn! The border official, in his 30ies, short haircut, strictly ironed uniform, with an accent coming from the southern states, picks up both of our passports and looks at each stamp and visa individually. We have more than one of the two, as you may know. The questions begin when he sees the two Iranian visas. Finally, we file a detailed travel description. In retrospect we could have simply given the link to this blog ... The question strategy moves several times back to the duration of the stay in the country: How long will we be in the USA? When will we go on to Mexico? In how many days will we leave the country again? Yes, Sherlock, a month, 30 days, four weeks. Again and again we are sent back to the bench to wait, the officer must probably discuss the matter with the superior. Like a journalist, he fills an entire A4 sheet of paper with notes. It seems unclear where this is going, his mood not easy to decipher, the emotions are absent. In the end we are relegated to the bench again for a longer period of time. What's next? Separate interrogation to compare our answers?

When the officer comes back, he waves both of our passports and we finally get the required stamp. After so much personal attention and interest, we say goodbye and set off for this new country, “Home of the Brave, Land of the Free”, as the national anthem says.

We drive around the two big cities Seattle and Portland and have only one goal in mind: the Pacific! And we are not disappointed: For days we drive on the most beautiful coastal roads, past miles of deserted beaches and through small sleepy villages. It always rains in Washington State, we knew that before, and that's how it happened. The forest changes into a beautiful rainforest, moist moss grows high on the giant trees, and there are plenty of streams and rivers. We camp despite the rain and are amazed that it is still completely dry under these huge trees even after days of rain.

The Oregon coast is simply spectacular.

The Oregon coast is simply spectacular. You could stop around every bend and take a photo, which we do first, but quickly realize that it goes on for 1,500 km. Eureka California, we found you! We drive through the famous redwoods: the cedars are breathtakingly huge and some are over 2000 years old. A side street leads directly through the forest. Inland it is getting really hot: With probably around 35°c during the day, we think back to Newfoundland. The cool sea breeze makes the temperature on the coast very comfortable though. No wonder the water temperature of the Pacific is around 12°c, even the brave surfers only dare to go into the water with a wetsuit.

In the US, private property seems to be important above everything. All small side ways are blocked off with a gate, at each house entrance there are several signs with red letters on black background, under no circumstances should you step closer or the dog will be released "Keep out!" "No Trespassing!" "Be aware of dog!". The art of finding inofficial spots for camping that we have cultivated so well in Canada, is of no use here. We have to switch to alternatives where you get little space for a lot of money.

So we meander south to San Francisco, where the ultimate couchsurfing experience is waiting for us! But more about that in our next blogpost.

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