The Saturday markets, which were actually open all week long in the lead up to Christmas. Some great food, although most of it is arts and crafts and handmade produce. I must have spent a couple of hours browsing here and bought a few little things like earrings and Marionberry chocolates and jam (the Marionberry is a hybrid berry originally conceived in Oregon and is a blend of boysenberry and blackberry). I had some lovely conversations with various artists as well - I apologised and said I wouldn't be able to buy anything as I was on a budget and had hardly any room left in my luggage but that it was a pleasure to be able to look at their work, and most of the sellers warmed right away and were happy to chat once I was open about only being able to browse. So the art was great - the buskers, not so much. I believe I had what was possibly the worst musical experience of my life here, listening to an old guy sing "I Write the Songs" unintelligibly and out of tune to a badly rehashed electronic accompaniment. And he looked a little like the stapler guy from Office Space.
I took this for the silhouette of the lamppost and the moon rather than the sign, but it reads 'Portland Saturday Market Festival of the Last Minute', which I think is a much better name than Chadstone's 'all night Christmas trading'.
A beautiful old stone church across the road from the art gallery.
The inside of the chapel. As part of the festival they had choral concerts on every evening with local school and community choirs. I heard three that night, of varying standards, but one was actually very good. I think they were from Mountain View, but I don't think it was Mountain View in California.