Continuing my travels, I decided to spend three months in a place I'd not visited since I was a child—Bremerton, WA. I wanted to study under a specific professor, and I had fond childhood memories of driving through this city for late-night ferry rides, while snuggled in the back window of our old Volvo, gazing up at the glittering stars in the dark blue sky.
But when I shared my travel plans with others, they voiced concerns. Bremerton had apparently changed in the last thirty-five years. But I decided to not worry about the warnings (not my best travel safety moment). I was thinking...how bad could little old Bremerton be?
Preferring a short commute, I rented a furnished apartment near class, sight unseen. After moving in, I heard sirens at all hours, including multiple times during phone calls. I'd apologize to those on the other end of the phone. I was finding it a bit humorous, my situation.
Pulling into my parking spot one night, a private security guard greeted me, as he advised me to not be out alone. Something about the surrounding properties being meth houses. I had no idea.
Then I watched him walk down the row of apartments, rattling the knob of every front door, to make sure residents were locked in for the night.
So I escaped to Silverdale. For food. To relax. It is really very nice. (Even REI is there!)
But when I found a delicious, adorable morsel of a restaurant called Nattamit, I knew I'd found my safe spot. Nestled into a small back garden parking lot in Old Town Silverdale, its hut-like tiny cottage displayed a variety of Thai art, plus cozy seating inside.
I should describe the gluten-free and plant-based menu options—along with my very first taste of black sticky rice pudding—but it was so exquisite, it melted in my mouth. Thus, I must go back to Nattamit (many more times), so I can get that description just right.
Plus, the owner/chef is so kind, and the server so thoughtful, that their energy alone is worth the trip.