Missoula is bigger than we would have guessed from the interstate, the population is around 60,000. Since this is our last night in the US, we thought we’d make one more try at getting some Swanson and Abeja wine. Armed with a map from Rachel on front desk, we drove downtown to a drugstore that has a huge selection. Thought we’d driven too far, and turned back. This was a mistake. One way streets, no left turns, it was worse than Winnipeg. Then we turned right, and found a whole suburb full of uncontrolled intersections alternating with roundabouts. We must have made every possible bad turn. Eventually, we gave up and headed for the mall instead. As soon as we emerged onto a major thoroughfare, we saw the drugstore. Behind us. More block circling ensued, but eventually found our way there. The selection of wine was astounding. If you took every wine store in Winnipeg, they wouldn’t have that many American wines between them. They paged Jim for us. Although he’s only in his twenties, he’s visited as many wineries as we have, probably more. No Swanson or Abeja, though. He recommended a couple of other places.
We took a break and went to the mall. Caroline wanted another warm sweater, and my favourite driving shoes are shot. I found shoes, she didn’t find a sweater that moved her. Made our way to Worden’s, a coffee and wine market. Found an Abeja, but no Swanson. Tried one more place, no luck.
Returned to hotel, parked below our room. Our room is fabulous, by the way. We are on the top floor, and our room is like a huge dormer with a cathedral ceiling sixteen feet high. The balcony is kind of a token affair one foot deep. You can open the doors and lean on the railing. We have a king bed, a desk, two armchairs and an ottoman, a fridge, a microwave and a flat TV.