Editor’s Note: This is the sixth installment in a multi-part series of first-person accounts by WTN Contributing Editor

After five long days of driving and tea, my husband Marko and I arrived at our destination, Portland, Ore. Soon after, we set out for our first teahouse experience in our new home city.

Biking through Portland, we marveled at how drivers respect cyclists, scoped out restaurants and made our way downtown to the Chinatown district, home to the gorgeous Classical Chinese Garden and Tao of Tea’s Cosmic Tower of Reflections. After parking our bikes and paying an $8.50 entry fee, we ventured inside the garden, surveying the lush fruit trees, firs and camellias that grow so easily here in the Pacific Northwest.

The buildings, plants and pond interacted in a distinctive way, completely unlike Western gardens (which often come across as more rigid and controlled) and classical Japanese tea gardens (in which tenuous structures play up a Wabi-Sabi sense of impermanence, while ponds and plants may appear more manicured).

The garden was bustling with visitors, yet a sense of tranquility permeated the space. Peeking into one pavilion, I saw Verinder Chawla, Tao of Tea’s owner, instructing two-dozen people how to grow, process and brew tea. Outside, people gazed at the lake, crossed covered bridges and observed the plants. On our way to the tea house, Marko and I stopped to shake Chinese fortune sticks with other visitors. Mine said something about being tempted; it must have foreseen where I was headed!

The Tao of Tea tea house is an elegant two-story building with tall, open windows that look out onto waterside seating. Hand-carved wooden surfaces and multiple displays of Yi Xing pots created visual interest, but for the most part the interior of the tea house was pleasingly simple. Three silk-clad musicians played classical Chinese music as a mix of locals and tourists relaxed, took in the view, savored their food or enjoyed the ritual of tea.

I bypassed the sizable puer selection and ordered Black Spiral, which arrived in a Yi Xing pot with a small porcelain teacup and carved wooden saucer. Marko ordered a small carafe of plum sake, served in a hand-blown frosted glass carafe and matching cup. (They also offer house green tea sake, which I hope to try the next time I visit!)

We shared a serene respite over multiple infusions of tea and a small meal of spicy peanuts, turnip cakes (served on banana leaves atop an incised terra cotta dish), steamed dumplings and a mooncake. Afterward, we explored the rest of the garden and biked home, taking in more of our new city along the way.

The Cosmic Tower of Reflections wasn’t perfect – there was an inexplicably heavy-handed use of goji berries in a range of dishes and, because of the large windows, there was a swarm of flies inside. But its peaceful, beautiful atmosphere, and delicious fare made it a fantastic close to my cross-country journey.

Like most endings, this one marked a beginning too: my new tea journey in Portland.