A stay at the beach isn't complete without a pilgrimage to Seaside to visit the aquarium, feed the seals and troll the arcades for a few rousing games of Skeeball.
Seaside is a funny little town. Despite a fancy new logo and some storefront rehab, it has never quite shaken the wonderfully tired tawdry feel of a resort town still living in its 1920s-1930s glory.
Growing up as a beach rat, a trip to Seaside was magical. There was an amusement park in the middle of town, a saltwater natatorium and penny (literally) arcades where you could watch old silent movies on hand-cranked wooden projectors. We would devour corn dogs smothered in mustard, salt water taffy and cotton candy, chased by toe-curling sweet lemonade.
Some things remain frozen in time.
|These awnings haven't changed in 50 years! Seriously.|
|On the other hand, the natatorium was torn down for this.|
But not all things change. . . .
The Seaside Aquarium is tiny yet charming in its own fishy way. I've been going there for 50 years (gulp - can't believe I just typed that) and it's still magical. There are no dolphin shows or leaping orcas. Instead, simple tanks showcase many of the denizens who reside in the surf and tide pools of the Pacific Northwest.
|I'm really quite nice once you get to know me.|
|One of the last vestiges of art deco in Seaside|
You can't have everything.