Italian pizza ought to be followed by a warm cannoli. Greek pizza, however, should be seconded by a pair of baklava triangles. West Seattle’s Alki Beach, facing Puget Sound, reminded me of Revere Beach north of Boston (a grand family tradition). The beach goes on longer than you’d want to walk and the water is probably colder than you’d want to swim in.
But, the pizza and the sunshine is worth the time spent hunting for parking. In Alki Beach’s defense, the baklava at Christo’s, is worth waiting for.
My father and I sat in the plastic-seated booth for some time. An older Greek woman poured us water before retreating to a booth with her friends to chat. Having spent my afternoon waiting for a train than never came in Carkeek Park, I was thirsty and downed the water immediately.
“The girl come by yet?”
“Nope,” we answered.
Another glass of water and a few more minutes later our server emerged from the back, all smiles. It did not take long before we had a magnificent pizza steaming before us–pepperoni under the cheese and a perfect pan crust.
The beauty of summer is that the days stretch on for hours, glorious days even more so. We were never going to make it to sunset on Alki Beach so we made our way back around the peninsula to Seacrest Park to see the skyline.
Beneath the immense empty sky and beside the gently shifting sound, the city looks like a miniature of itself. When you’re driving through the city the buildings loom above you, the alleys seem to pull close together and highway 99 rumbles overhead. From across the harbor, it seems small and distant. The Space Needle, over to the north of downtown proper no longer dominates the skyline, except in uniqueness of shape.
Though Seattle’s skyline is diminutive, this is only because the sky is bigger and the water bluer out west. It may be officially nicknamed the Emerald City but from West Seattle the town looks nothing like an emerald and everything like the flicker of light trapped in a sapphire.