|
Simon and Susan say.......
A Breeze Through Barcelona October 2008
Travel is addictive. We probably don't need to tell anyone that. But here's
the proof positive. Having returned to the UK to catch up with friends and family for a few days, we couldn't resist the
chance to take advantage of the (relative) proximity of Europe by enjoying a short side-trip to the splendid Spanish city
of Barcelona.  It was Susan's first visit, as well as a first for Simon's parents (to celebrate their Golden Wedding anniversary
earlier this year), and the weather put on its best autumn style to welcome the four of us for a 3-day visit which provided
a general taste (in quite literal fashion) of this Catalan delight. Given just 2nights/three days, it was really only a question
of getting the quickest possible overview of what is now a major city, but the good news was that it was extremely easy to
do so.
After landing at Barcelona airport
(courtesy of EasyJet), we took a 25-minute cab ride into the city centre to check into our hotel (the Hotel Ayre Caspe, a
neat, modern 4-star property within a 20-minute walk of most of the central attractions). It turned out to be slightly
further from La Rambla and the city's main restaurant district than we hoped, and the faint whiff of the sewers from time
to time was another unwelcome surprise, but heading out for an afternoon and evening along Placa de Catalunya and La Rambla
quickly put those distractions in the background. La
Rambla is the heart and soul of Barcelona, if a touch touristy these days for local sensibilities. This long wide avenue of
open-air stalls, traders, cafes and street performers is an absolute pot-pourri of big-city hustle-bustle, complemented by
the equally frenetic activity of the neighbouring Boqueria Market. Great fun to stroll along (although mindful of the city's
reputation for pick-pockets and other petty crime hassles), it provides a snapshot of a metropolis fixated on caged birds,
bars, coffee-shops (and not the Starbucks kind!), casual wandering, heavy traffic (inevitably), smokers (equally inevitably) and
an architectural melange that is occasionally awkward but always easy on the eye. La Rambla borders part of the Gothic Quarter,
and that is equally fascinating to wander along and discover some of the smaller-scale delights of the city. La Placa Reial
sits between them and was our spot for a memorable dinner - tapas, of course! - during which we managed to persuade Simon's
parents that they needed to sample 4 dishes each to ensure sufficient local flavour! Needless to say, our table was
groaning under the weight of so much food (plus a lovely bottle of rioja), but we did manage to get through most of it and
it was all wonderfully tastyand enjoyable. Day
Two saw us take the full tour on the Barcelona Bus Turistic, the open-top bus which covers, seemingly, every square inch of
this sprawling city, from the busy seafront to the heights of Tibidabo, providing a fabulous overview of the whole scene.
The 21-euro adult fare proved excellent value as we hopped on and off the various buses, covering two separate routes, at
will; enjoyed the constant English-language narration (with soft musical interludes); copped a full eyeful of the awesome
works of Antoni Gaudi and Co; and gained a good perspective of the wide variety of attractions within.  We stopped for an al fresco beer atop Tibidabo; lunched in the square Fransesc Macia (complete with the obligatory glass of
sangria); and (eventually) stopped for coffee back at Placa de Catalunya, all the time soaking up some glorious late-season
sun which was neither too hot nor too inconsistent. We even braved the metro system, during rush hour (!), to head down to
the port/seafront area of Barceloneta, where we strolled further before stopping for another memorable Spanish repast (paella,
steak and fresh, grilled vegetables).
Our
restaurant was pretty much decided for us by one of the local restaurateurs, prowling the pavement outside his establishment
touting for business, and doing a wonderfully friendly and inviting job of it, too! We wandered the full length of Plage Joan
de Barbo but still returned to the 'restaurant of choice,' comforted by its busy friendliness, and whiled away another
couple of hours in true Mediterranean style. Day three was also our return day, but
not until late in the evening, so we reverted to Shank's Pony (after a good lie-in - a real rarity for us!) for much of
the time, opting for a full tour of Gaudi's immense Sagrada Familia, where this modern architectural marvel (begun in
the late 19th century but still under construction today) eventually capitivated all of us. I say eventually for good reason,
as this strange - almost alien - organic style is not everyone's cup of Spanish tea at first glance, but the incredible
ingenuity, detail and breathtaking 'modernisme' style (quite a break from the norm back in the 1890s) quickly
grow on you and impress with their sheer audacity.  We braved the Metro once more to head back to the Gothic Quarter and continued on foot around the Roman-to-Medieval streets,
squares and alleyways, stopping once more for an open-air lunch, and pondering the one disappointment of seeing the Gothic
Cathedral frontage completely covered by scaffolding and construction awnings.
All too soon it was time to return to the hotel (stopping en route at Placa de Catalunya
once more for a final local beverage!) and pick up our taxi back to the airport. Three days of fairly effortless (if slightly
foot-wearing) city touring among a busy, modern city that still boasts a fascinating heritage - and exhibits it extremely
well.
The Magic of Alaska
June/July
2008
This was our major excursion for the year (so
far!) and proved an experience beyond our wildest expectations. It was ostensibly for a big section in the Spring edition
of World of Cruising magazine, but it promises to fuel a LOT more than that.
 We had planned and prepared for it for months, and the basic schedule was a week's Inside Passage cruise from Vancouver
to Seward, sailing with Alaskan experts Holland America Line, followed by five days exploring the Kenai Fjords and Mat-Su Valley areas.
It began with a flight from Detroit to Seattle followed by an overnight stay in Seattle,
with time to explore the city's eclectic Pike Place Market the following day then a drive up to Vancouver in the afternoon. We had an evening to enjoy downtown
Vancouver (thanks to expert local advice from Simon's cousin and her husband!), and then picked up Holland
America's elegant ship Zaandam the next day.
What followed was 12 days of unstinting travel nirvana;
a journey that was beyond spectacular, that exceeded any of our previous adventures, and which provided enough food for thought
to fill the largest cranial supermarket.
In short, it was the stuff of dreams (which still recur at regular intervals!),
and it has heightened and sparked our writing senses like nothing else. To say we are inspired to learn more, see more and
experience more of this vast, wild and majestic territory is a major understatement.
While much of it will
seem obvious to anyone who has had even a passing acquaintance with America's 49th state, it hammered home the message
to us in glorious technicolour and letters 20,000ft high (that's the height of Mt McKinley, or more properly Denali, by
the way).
Purely and simply, Alaska fills the senses like the headiest drink and the finest food; it is a feast for the
eyes and the soul. And it is full of wonderful people who offer their thoughts and experiences of this frontier region
with both a disarming friendliness and a total disinclination to dwell on its harsh, raw aspects.
The plentiful
wildlife is captivating; the activities are almost always outdoorsy and health-oriented; and the depth of the history, geology
and climatology is staggering. This is a region which can captivate you with tales for an eternity and yet still not reveal
the full dimensions of the Alaskan experience.
 From the cruise ports of Ketchikan, Juneau and Skagway (which all offered several essential and contrasting 'must
do' activities and attractions) to the natural splendours of Glacier Bay and College Fjord; from the wildly cavorting
Dall's Porpoises and languid Orcas to the sudden appearance of startled moose and playful otters; and from the tsunami-influenced
town of Seward to the flight-seeing haven of Talkeetna, our journey revealed new facets of this diamond-in-the-rough at almost
every turn.
And then we encountered Denali - all 20,320ft of it - and the experience reached new heights (no pun
intended).
For the uninitiated, this is America's loftiest mountain, sitting firmly in the heart of the Alaskan
Range of mountains in south-central Alaska. But it is way more than that. Denali is an image, a presence that truly
gets under your skin, that burns its way into your subconscious and lingers there like a reassuring totem for all things wild
and natural.
Our first view of this utterly awesome tectonic outcropping (which, in mountaineering terms, has a
higher vertical rise than any other mountain on earth, including Mt Everest - 18,000ft to the great Himalayan's 12,000ft)
was completely deceiving. But, as the clouds slowly melted away, the full extent of this massive icon was revealed in ever-clearer
detail.
 Ultimately, we have no words expressive enough to provide a full and meaningful account of that moment; and Alaska is just
too vast and fundamental to be explained in a literal way. Our adjectival verbiage is not up to the task.
However,
that will not stop us trying, both in the pages of World of Cruising and elsewhere. There are SO many virtues to
extol it is hard to know where to start, but start we most certainly will.
Whether we come to a satisfactory ending
is probably years away from determining; it is quite possible we never will.
But we most surely intend to give it a really good try!
** Our most grateful thanks
and sincere appreciation for help in our great Alaskan Adventure go to the following organisations, all of whom would earn
our highest recommendation as first-class travel and information resources: **
Holland America Line
- www.hollandamerica.com
Alaska Travel Industry Association - www.travelalaska.com
Ketchikan Visitors Bureau - www.visit-ketchikan.com
Juneau Convention & Visitors Bureau - www.traveljuneau.com
Skagway Convention & Visitors Bureau - www.skagway.com
Alaska Heritage Tours - www.alaskaheritagetours.com
Matanuska-Susitna Valley Convention & Visitors Bureau - www.alaskavisit.com
We
fully endorse and support all these companies.
| ...Saddle up, pardners, for a Wild West adventure! |
|
Phoenix, Arizona
Jan/Feb 2008
Travelling
out to Phoenix for Super Bowl XLII (Simon's annual sport-fest), we had the opportunity to arrive early and do some touring
before the various fan (and media) hordes rolled into town.
That meant a chance to experience Simon's
mini-obsession with Cowboy culture and everything that goes with it, hence our first tour was to the south of Phoenix - a
3-hour drive, in fact, all the way to Tombstone, 'The town too tough to die.'
And the reality is this is a genuine, living, breathing slice of 1880s history. Much of the town
is pretty much as it was way back in the time of Wyatt Earp, and the extra gloss provided by the costumed characters and live
shows around the street is absolutely superb.
Take a stagecoach
ride round town, watch the shootouts at Six Gun City, tour the old silver mines (the original reason for Tombstone's boom-time)
and then stop for lunch at Big Nose Kate's Saloon. It all reeks of the original 19th century grit and gusto with which
people chiselled an existence out of this unforgiving territory.
Touring the next day in the Tucson vicinity, we marvelled at the subtle variations of the desert landscape as we drove
through the mountains to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, a wonderful outdoor facility that is more like taking a stroll in the wilds than visiting a conventional museum. Featuring
both wildlife and plenty of desert flora, this healthy look at what makes the Arizona scenery so special was a real eye-opener
and we could easily have spent most of the day here.
Instead,
we headed back into Tucson (courtesy of an excellent schedule worked out for us by the local Convention & Visitors Bureau) for lunch at one of the city’s most unique restaurants, El Charro, a 1923 original specialising in
real family Mexican cuisine. A bit like dining in someone’s front room, every dish comes up fresh and inviting and we
left with our waistlines considerably enhanced!
From central Tucson
we headed out again to the Mission St Xavier del Bac, ‘The white dove of the desert.’
This 18th century Spanish mission survives little changed from its 300-year-old incarnation in 1700 and is a poignant
reminder of the excruciatingly poor lifestyle of the vast majority of the local populace several hundred years ago.
Our next stop changed the scene completely and underlined Arizona’s popularity as an ‘airplane
parking lot.’ The Pima Air & Space Museum is an astonishing repository of military
aircraft from the Second World War on. Hundreds of planes (and helicopters) of all shapes and sizes are parked here, mute
witnesses to a much more aggressive past, notably during the Cold War era. Taking a tour here is absolutely essential as there
is SO much to see and you can completely miss the vast ‘Boneyard’ if you’re not careful.
Back in Phoenix,
we took a day to explore out from the wonderfully evocative Apache Junction (actually a fairly nondescript town to the east
of the city), which sits at the start of the Apache Trail. Taking a drive along here is another
Arizona staple as it takes in the
|
| The weired and wonderful are all at the Pima Air & Space Museum |
scenic Superstition
Mountains, Goldfield Ghost Town (a superb recreated location that
doesn’t quite seem to know quite what to do with itself), Canyon Lake and wonderful little Tortilla Flat. The latter stagecoach stop is a
must-visit if only to try out their bar, where the ‘stools’ are actually saddles and the beer is served in jam-jars.
Tourist heaven!
Another excursion took us to Fort McDowell Adventures, again a desert location to the north-east,
where they offer horse-riding tours of an hour to all-day, camp cookouts and Native American interpretations (as well as group
events, team building and organised experiences). We managed a 2-hour trail ride in the company of two cowboy ‘guides’
and soaked up every minute through the near-silent excursion, where our horses’ hooves and creaking saddles provided
the only regular sounds (apart from some coyotes howling in the distance).
Back in Phoenix,
the superb Heard Museum, with its vast store of Native American
history, art and oral traditions, kept us enthralled for half a day (it would have been longer if time had allowed), while
the Gift Shop was another genuine treasure (thankfully, we had only a limited amount of time,
|
| The beautifully scenic Goldfield Ghost Town on a perfect Arizona day |
otherwise
our credit cards could have taken a serious pounding!).
Then a trip up to
happening Scottsdale – where, if everything isn’t brand, spanking new, then it is in line for rebuilding in the
near future – brought the chance to peruse the vast selection of shops (both boutique and the big-name variety) and
sample some of the amazing array of restaurants. We eventually settled on Cowboy Ciao, a pleasant mix of Italian and South-West
styles, where their Grazing menu was a total delight (and the signature Mushroom Pan Fry a complete taste sensation).
With the
Game looming, Susan had to return home while Simon was left to focus on the Patriots v The Giants, but there was still time
for a quick visit to Tempe and the Mill Avenue District, where much of the Super Bowl crowds
seemed to be congregating of an evening. The bright streets and eclectic restaurant selection led us to another local institution,
Monti’s, which served up superb steaks in
another unique atmosphere of authentic 19th century charm.
And with that, it was all about New York against New England, at the University of Arizona Stadium in
Glendale. A superb venue for a totally memorable game. But still not as memorable as this visit to the Arizona desert, with
its myriad of attractions. We WILL be back!
|
| Voila! The magnificent Arizona desert scenery |
December
2007.
We
have discovered our new favourite place to visit - and it is right here on our (Michigan) doorstep.
It will probably come as no surprise to any residents of the north-west corner
of the state, but Boyne Country is a major discovery. No, not major; huge, enormous. Of absolutely immense touristic value
(to which, all the locals will be going 'Doh! Do these people know nothing?').
And we need to tell
the world all about it. We are on a mission - a crusade, no less - to let everyone know what an amazing, inspiring, surprising
and downright satisfying place this is to visit in the north-west quadrant of the state
Because, while the locals will all regard it as blindingly obvious, a trip to Boyne Country - and
its attendant cities of Petoskey, Harbor Springs, Bay Harbor and Charlevoix - is an adventure into a region of breathtaking
allure and character. Imagine a Victorian world full of the essential
values of the time but with all mod cons; a realm of genteel charm and old-fashioned fascination that still has enough high-quality
sophistication to make 21st-century visitors feel properly comfortable. Add
in superb shopping and dining, a wide range of accommodations, stunning scenery and attractions as diverse as award-winning
ski resorts, extensive marinas, quaint museums, pleasant walks, golf courses, a splendid indoor water park and some genuinely
stunning scenery, and that is Boyne Country, a territory that absolutely demands your attention. And
the best thing about it is – there are two completely different versions of the same place. The
summer is a time of non-stop outdoor activities; boating, fishing, golf, hiking, bird-watching, cycling, swimming and lounging
on the wide beaches beside the brilliantly blue waters of Lake Michigan. Back in 1873, it earned the soubriquet ‘The
land of the million dollar sunsets,’ and it is every bit as good as the 24-carat label suggests. But
visit in December, as we did, and you discover a genuine winter wonderland of unexpected possibilities and surprising delights. To
be fair, we expected the relaxing olde worlde style at the Bay View Inn, where we walked in to their warming fireplace lobby
and gracious ambience. After all, it was Christmas Day and we had carefully researched a venue where we
could kick back and relax for a couple of days. The
truly unique appeal of this 19th century hideaway was immediately evident in its range of individually-styled rooms,
the airy Sunroom and the wide dining room with its picture windows affording panoramic views of the lake. But
what came as a pleasant surprise was the liberal use of antique furniture throughout the Inn, the beautiful soft furnishings
of the rooms (in best Laura Ashley fashion, before the term became a cliché) and extra features like fireplaces and
Jacuzzi baths, and the utter warmth of the place, be it in the furnishings or the attitude of all the staff. (It
soon became clear, on talking to owner Stafford Smith, the staff’s deportment stems from the charismatic owner, who
eschews modern management pretenses for the true, customer-first ethos of a gentler, bygone age) However,
the Bay View Inn was just the first in a series of welcome revelations over the next few days, with a 2-night stay quickly
doubling in length as we discovered more and more to enjoy – the idea of sitting by the fire with a good book immediately
being forsaken for the chance to explore this jewel of a location. Petoskey,
with its expansive shopping district offering goods you would normally expect to find only in the likes of Harrods, required
a full day to investigate fully; Harbor Springs, boasting more one-off stores and fascinating browsing, was another half-day
of unforeseen exploration; and Charlevoix, with its sprinkling of curious ‘organic’ architecture, was another
sudden discovery that afforded several hours of delightful encounters. In between,
the totally modern ‘village’ of Bay Harbor was another curiosity – a millionaire’s row of vacation
homes and exclusive shops, epicurean delights and the stunning Inn at Bay Harbor, voted one of the world’s Top 500 hotels,
complete with luxury spa. Everywhere also boasted a splendid range
of dining options, from the five-star Pier Restaurant in Harbor Springs and Chandler’s in Petoskey to the more down-home
style of Whitney’s Oyster Bar in Charlevoix, complete with a startling choice of real ales. And
then we discovered Nub’s Nob Ski Resort (in a near-blizzard!), Boyne Mountain, complete with its ‘Alpine’
resort and state-of-the-art indoor water park, and the chance to go ski-ing (both downhill and cross-country), snow-shoeing,
snow-mobiling, snow-tubing and lots of other things that began with snow and ended in great fun. With
everything within a 10-15-minute drive of Petoskey, it all made for an astonishingly compact and eventful few days, way beyond
our expectations, but surprising even more in its lack of renown outside the confines of Michigan. For
here, indeed, is the kind of vacation playground which has just about something for everyone, if only they are prepared to
take a chance on somewhere not on the usual tourist maps. It offers experiences that are increasingly hard to find in a modern
age of hustle-bustle, 24/7 and Starbucks. But,
more than anything, Boyne Country offers the chance to enjoy a Victorian heritage that is alive and well in living, breathing,
three-dimensional colour; a bygone age that still panders to the restless spirit of today; and a relaxing, welcoming aura
that soothes the soul and revives the mind. We fully
intend to be back to explore more about this remarkable corner of the world – and provide plenty more reasons for others
to visit in future. Stay tuned……..!
|
| The beautiful Bay View Inn |
|
| Breathtaking - Boyne Mountain Resort |
Europe, July 2007
For once, we were just tourists. There were no media groups to be part of, press events to attend
or schedules to keep to. It was just the three of us and three of Europe's biggest cities in the space of 10 days or so
(OK, we also had to do some work at Disneyland Paris and meet with a couple of people, but you get the general idea!).
And, just being able to get out and about, walk the streets, take the bus tours, ride the trains and see the sights
was a wonderfully exhilarating experience. Dublin was a surprise in many ways - some great sights, but some distinctly unfriendly
people in several instances, poor service at our hotel and much of the atmospheric Temple Bar district 'off limits'
because so many pubs and bars are "21 and over ONLY". Hmmm, not terribly family friendly, but we loved the bus tours,
the parks and squares, Dublin castle, Kilmainham Gaol - and the Guinness Storehouse. The best pint in the world - without
a doubt!
Paris was a huge hit with all concerned, but especially with young Ben, who I don't think could believe
there was THIS much historic 'stuff' packed in to one city! The open-top bus tour served to highlight how magnificently
Paris was designed (and re-designed); there truly is so much here you can only ever scratch the surface in a day or two (but
what a scratch it is!). The Eiffel Tower remains one of the great tourist experiences anywhere in the world and getting
around the city is just so easy (albeit occasionally uncomfortably crowded on the Metro and RER systems).
After
two successive major countries, we got as far as Ashford on the Eurostar from Paris before the UK's transport system let
us down. Talk about 'welcome back!' The train broke down and, rather than wait two hours for a replacement service,
we hopped on a (slow) train for Brighton and eventually arrived around 11.30pm. Staying in Hove for 6 nights gave us chance
to explore something of the south coast, with side-trips to Hever Castle in Kent and Arundel in Sussex. Just wonderful.
Taking 3 days to explore London was enough - the open-top bus tour was, by now, de rigeuer and we rode pretty much
all day. Just ideal. Stops for the London Eye and Buckingham Palace; a walk through St James' Park; a trip to the London
Dungeons; a drive around the West End at night; and dinner in Covent Garden one night and St Katharine's Dock another
were the highlights. But just taking the city at tourist pace and wandering where the mood took us was a truly novel experience.
All in all, it was a valuable and insightful way to revisit old haunts and view things in a whole new light. It just
goes to show, you can live somewhere for years, and still not 'see' it.
At Sea, The Caribbean, June 24-July 1!
It has been a while since we were able to sample a full,
regular cruise experience, and our one-week sojourn on the Caribbean Princess of Princess Cruises went a long
way to restoring our faith in this style of vacation after something of a barrage of negative publicity.
If you
were to believe much of the recent news media, you would probably think that a cruise is the recipe for 1) Chronic illness;
2) Omnipresent danger, with people falling over the sides left, right and centre; and/or 3) Being at the source of ocean-wide
pollution. Happily, nothing could be further from the truth (as always!).
After seven days cruising the incredibly
calm waters from Fort Lauderdale to Cozumel and back (circling Cuba on the way), we can report that the cruise business
is still thriving and still making thousands of converts on a weekly basis.
Princess are one of the handful of
true mega-ship operators (along with Carnival, Cunard, Royal Caribbean and Costa, all with ships of 100,000-tons plus), and
it is perfectly possible they offer the smoothest and most enjoyable experience of them all.
The Caribbean
Princess is also among only a relatively few offering year-round, one-week voyages around the Caribbean, so she is already
in fairly rarefied territory. But what enjoyable territory it turned out to be.
The food and entertainment lived
up to our expectations, with occasional genuine highlights like the speciality Sabatini's restaurant, where the 17-course
set meal was truly a feast fit for royalty. But in terms of the service and amenities, Princess really hit the top notes.
Everywhere we went on a ship with some 3,000 fellow passengers, the service was both refined and friendly; efficient
and graceful. There was hardly ever a wait for anything, while aspects like our cabin steward, waiter service and out-of-the-way
helpfulness (including an incredibly helpful native Jamaican in the beauty salon who was able to mark our card for an excellent
visit ashore at Ocho Rios) were as good as we have enjoyed anywhere at sea.
The itinerary was a pleasant surprise,
too. While it is the Caribbean, it is also the more mundane part of the region; none of the ports are anything other than
mass-market destinations these days, yet all still offered something fresh and inviting.
At the cruise line's
private island of Princess Cays, we were able to go for a blissful (if rather hot!) stroll along the wide expanse of beaches;
at Ocho Rios we took our beauty girl's advice and toured with a local taxi driver - great fun (especially the stop at
the Jerk Center for the traditional chicken-and-rice lunch!); in Grand Cayman, we discovered veritable miles of under-used
beaches for another long stroll; and, at Cozumel, we signed up for the mainland tour to the Mayan ruins of Coba, which proved
to be an excellent day out.
With two full days at sea at either end of the cruise, it made for an ideal blend of
busy shore days and lazy time contemplating the flattest of oceans (truly, the final day was marked by seas that resembled
polished glass with barely a ripple to be seen anywhere, except those caused by the occasional flying fish startled by our
serene progress!).
On board, we discovered the delights of Movies Under The Stars, Princess's novel LCD screen
over the main pool which shows an array of films throughout the day, and which really comes into its own as an entertainment
venue at night, complete with blanket-festooned sun-loungers and popcorn!
The other entertainment highlight was
the Survival gameshow-type contest on both sea days, which took place at the main pool and was immensely watchable; a real
triumph of creative entertainment planning.
But, above all, we enjoyed just watching the sea go by from our pleasant
cabin balcony; a pseudo-secluded eyrie (along with hundreds of others!) which allowed us the perfect platform for a leisurely
breakfast, evening beverage or late-night contemplation of the swirling universe above our heads.
For, what is
a proper vacation without the time to contemplate life's big mysteries; like, is there life on other planets; will we
ever get world peace; and, what time is the next meal.........?!
APRIL 2007; Anaheim, California
We're off to the original House of Mouse for
Pow-Wow 2007, a wonderful opportunity to catch up with the whole of the American travel scene, AND do some of the groundwork
for our next big Brit's Guide project, to Disneyland & Southern California.
It's an exciting, yet nervous,
time for both of us as we have a LOT to do in the next month or so just ensuring we stay on top of our regular work, but the
lure of Anaheim and the Golden State is too strong to ignore. We've been saying for a couple of years we need to add Southern
Cal to our Brit's Guide portfolio, so, rather than put it off any longer, we have decided to add to our workload and see
just HOW busy we can be!
It is also a challenge because it takes us away from our regular 'comfort zone'
of Orlando and Central Florida and gives us some new areas to get our teeth into. We have both visited Walt's original
theme park in the past but this is a whole new way of looking at it, from the ground up; what makes it tick, what are the
best ways to tackle it, and how can people get the most out of it.
And, unlike Orlando, where everything is fairly
closely grouped around Disney, Universal and Co, this is a HUGE area to cover. So, we need to know where people go, what they
enjoy and (more importantly), how to get there!
This will only be our initial reconnoiter; a basic fact-finding
mission to make the right contacts, see the lie of the (Disney)land, and work out just how big a task we've set ourselves
in the next year.
But there is a lot to look forward to - and, if there's one thing we relish (apart from lots
of theme park rides!), it is a bit of hard work. Now, back to the parks..............!
Hershey, Pennsylvania July
29, 2006
We had the best of intentions when it came to planning a REAL vacation, full of thoughts
of relaxation, sunny walks near mountain streams, dinner in some Mom-and-Pop place serving up authentic down-home cookin’,
nights spent remembering what it’s like to be a couple without the distractions of home, family and work.
So,
of course, it turned into a work trip. I guess that’s the way it is when every interesting destination is another opportunity
to write it down and share it with readers. Simon already had two commissions, one for a feature on U.S. roller
coasters, one a more general ‘historical interest’ piece. The remainder of the trip would be strictly for fun,
but again, it never works out that way, does it? Our first stop was Hershey, Pennsylvania.
After a relatively easy all-day drive we arrived at Hotel Hershey, an expansive edifice easily seen from miles away, a prominent
hill-top monument to what loads and loads of chocolate can buy. Mr. Hershey was one smart cookie with a taste for success.
Although caramel was the sweet of choice in his early days, he gamboled on the idea that chocolate was really where it’s
at after noticing children tended to lick the coating off their caramels, pitching the candy itself once the chocolate was
gone. Simon and I would sinfully indulge in the Hershey bars given to us at check-in as our breakfast the next day.
There were several weddings at the hotel that night, giving us the chance to critique the brides’ choices in dresses
as we made our way down to the pool. We were momentarily distracted by a putting green on our way to the pool, and I would
like to say I whupped Simon's behind with my excellent golf technique, but I didn’t. And I won’t say
any more about that, if you don’t mind.
With the heat index in the low 100s, the pool was a godsend. We paddled
around for an hour, then freshened up for drinks (chocolate martini, anyone?) and dinner. A good night’s sleep was in
order, with Hersheypark waiting the next day.
Hersheypark boasts 10 ‘world class’ coasters, which were
our main aim for the day. As hotel guests, we were allowed into the park an hour early, but it turned out we may as well have
slept in since only one coaster was open. So we did the obvious thing - we rode the classic wooden coaster The Comet
four or five times while we waited for the rest of the park to open! Hersheypark’s stand-out coaster, The Great Bear,
was down nearly all day, so we made short order of the somewhat tame SooperDooperLooper, the Sidewinder (screaming forward-and-backward
through a series of loops, ending in a massive uphill track on either end), Lightning Racer (our favorite wooden coaster) and
the bone-jarring, teeth-rattling Wild Cat. Now, for those of you who have been
to Ohio’s Cedar Point park, the Storm Runner at Hersheypark may be a bit tame. But with a 0-72 mph launch in just 2
seconds, a facelift-inducing blast straight up, hang time as you crest the top of the track and a heart-thumping, stomach-raising
dive downward before a series of barrel rolls and loops threaten to give you a repeat of that morning’s chocolate bar,
it’s not a coaster for sissies. So, of course, we did it twice. The heat
index was nearing 115 degrees inspiring us to make a short day of it. We passed through the only crowded area in the park,
with 6 ways to soak not only your shorts, but also the skivvies beneath them, pausing to watch riders on the Roller Soaker
as they flew by overhead (in the manner of Pteranodon Flyers at Universal Orlando's Islands of Adventure), both getting
and giving an absolute soaking. Roller Soaker pits 4 riders (two facing forward, two facing backward, with feet dangling)
against passers-by on the ground. Riders each control a joystick that allows them to unleash a massive bucket-load of water
on the people below, while the people below control water cannons and buttons that shoot off geysers aimed directly at the
riders overhead. It’s one great big splash-fest and while we were dying for relief from the heat, we didn’t want
to a) queue up for an hour or b) walk around like we’d been in a wet T-shirt contest and come up losers. The Great Bear was finally up and running as we made our way toward the exit, so we gave it a try
and declared it almost up to par with Busch Gardens Tampa's Kumba, but not quite. Still, a fun
ride with a good brain-scrambling and the resulting must-have ride photo.
Since Chocolate World was right across
the parking lot we dropped in for a free tour, anticipating a free miniature candy bar at the end of the ride. We had been
given tickets to the nearby Hershey Museum so we stopped in for a quick tour, then headed back to our car for the short drive
down to Gettysburg. Our itinerary for tomorrow had been set up by the Gettysburg CVB and it would be a full day indeed. It
will be a 7am wake up, then non-stop until well after 11pm, so be sure to rest well and grab a snack before you read the next
blog. It’s bound to be a long one!
|
|
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
Part
one Gettysburg is just under an hour from Hershey, a
very pleasant drive after a hot day in the park. Our destination was a charming little place called Cricket House,
located just across from one of the entrances to the Battlefield. We had been given directions, of course, but somehow
our itinerary had been left on the desk at home and did not make the trip with us. Therefore, we had to go by memory, which,
admittedly, was not so good that evening. I’ll save you the long drive up and down the street, past the house we were
pretty sure was ours, not once but several times. Let’s just say that in the end we had the right place, a most delightful
two-story guest house with a Victorian style exterior and all the comforts of home inside, including a hot tub out back, a
Jacuzzi upstairs and a steam room in the second bathroom. Wowzer!
Our intention was to walk downtown and see some
of the shops, but we were so wiped out from the heat we opted for a tepid soak in the Jacuzzi and an early night. Our contact
at the Gettysburg CVB had set up the sort of itinerary we normally make for ourselves when in full Brit's Guide research
mode, beginning with an Orientation film called Battle in Motion at 8:30am and ending with a Ghost Tour at 9:30pm.
We arrived 15 minutes early at Patriot Point, so had time to walk around a bit and get our bearings.
At 8:30am we settled in to watch the movie, which is a new offering in the area being shown in what is otherwise used as a
dinner theater. Being so new, there were a few bugs to be worked out, such as a real screen instead of the kind you pull up
from a tripod and a real projector instead of the rigged up version that was showing the movie via computer hook-up. The connection
failed several times, but we got there in the end and proclaimed it a very worthwhile overview before seeing the Battlefield.
We hustled over to the Visitors Center by 9:45am for our meeting with a Battlefield Guide. We checked
in 5 minutes early and were told it would be a full 5 minutes before Paul, our guide, would be out to join us as (in their
words) ‘he won’t move a muscle until his break is completely over’. Oh dear.
And sure enough,
he was just as grouchy and cantankerous as we suspected. This being a car tour where the guide drives you around in your own
car, we sat back meekly as he took the wheel and barked out the fact we had 3 choices in tours. Just the Monuments,
History, or a Combination of Both. We were most interested in History but also wanted to see the monuments. Like
a bull pawing at the ground and snorting out a great huge waft of steam, Paul pulled out of the parking lot and drove to our
first stop. But not quite. We stopped short of any real monuments of merit, instead
pausing in front of a minor monument, where we would stay for the next 45 minutes (with my car burning $3.09 per gallon of
gas all the while) while Paul gave us a history lesson. Just when I thought I’d lose my ever-lovin’ mind, he said,
‘Ok…let’s move on.’. So we did. We passed by the monuments I knew were quite interesting, until we
stopped again in front of some obscure monument for another half-hour lesson. To make a long story short, we never really
saw much and we didn’t even get around the full battlefield in the 2 hours we had for the tour, though there were a
few moments of excitement (at least for me) when I thought I’d pull my own liver out through my throat just to end the
misery if we weren’t going to get out of the heat of the back seat and SEE something.
In all fairness, Paul
is an absolute wealth of knowledge and did provide an excellent understanding of WHY the battles proceeded the way they did,
what the thinking was on the part of each officer as the battle changed and progressed, and he also gave us his own considered
opinion of Pickett’s Charge, which I will readily admit was quite fascinating. If we had been sitting across the table
from him in some authentic-looking pub downtown, quaffing beers while we re-lived the battle it would have been among the
most enjoyable of discussions I can remember having in a long time. Taken from the back seat of a very hot car while 2 hours
worth of expensive gas were being burned as we sat in idle, it was not quite what I had hoped for, but I will grudgingly say
it was still an interesting tour.
Speaking of authentic pubs, we were meeting Stacey, our CVB contact, for lunch
at Farnsworth Tavern, an 1810 Federal-style building with bullet holes riddled across the side and a peanut
soup well worth seeking out. I didn’t know it was supposed to be haunted until we walked in and sat down. At that point
I was SURE it was haunted. You could just feel it, but not in a bad way. Lunch was very good, but with a heat
index around 115 again I opted for a chicken salad stuffed tomato and lots of water. Just
a few doors down we found our next stop, Shriver House. There are so many locations dedicated to the war
and the soldier’s perspective that the civilian experience is sometimes lost or blurred. Shriver House takes you through
the 3 day battle from the viewpoint of a woman and her two daughters, left alone in their home when Father went off to fight.
The house is fitted out as it would have been while they were living there, with the somber addition of rifles, bedrolls and
various soldier paraphernalia in the attic, which is where a handful of soldiers fought once the women had fled to another
home just out of town when the battle raged down their street. The soldiers knocked out some of the bricks in two locations
in the attic walls so as to have a clean shot down the street.
Mother and her two girls (along with the neighbor
girl of 15) were at the farm owned by her parents, hoping to avoid the battle. However, wounded and dying soldiers soon covered
the lawn and took up every space in the home there too, so the women were pressed into service as nurses. They eventually
returned home safely (though Father would not return. He was killed during a later battle) and the neighbor girl would go
on to write a book about their experience. As
an interesting aside, there was a recent study being done to test how accurate a new technique was that was designed to show
bloodstains even after the blood had been cleaned up. The crew doing the testing came to Shriver House and tested the floors
and walls in the upstairs attic. Sure enough, though it had been cleaned up right after the battle, the tell-tale sign of
a dead or wounded sniper showed in a great puddle on the floor and spatter marks on the wall. If you look a the picture the
owners of Shriver House were given by the crew, you can also see what appears to be a bloody boot print where another soldier
must have walked across his fallen comrade’s path.
Remember I said it was a long day? We still have 4 more
locations to visit, but you've done well if you've stuck with me this far. I'll post a second half separately
so it doesn't seem like you're reading a novel all in one go.
July 30, 2006
We spent a little longer at Shriver House than we expected when the owner came out to greet us (‘Are
you the writers?’). She showed us a series of pictures taken during the restoration phase of the house, which had been
left empty (its saving grace) due to the fact the man who owned it before it became a museum was not one to part with his
belongings. Apparently he also had every car he’d ever owned still sitting on his back lawn at the time he passed away,
so it was a bit of a wait before Shriver House would be purchased and renovated. All the while we were talking, a very naughty
kitten was fixin’ to do what kittens do on the nice clean rug, so the homeowner had to stop and coax Kitty upstairs
to find the litter box. We had to run a bit to make our next meeting, which was a downtown walking tour with
a guide in period costume.
I’ll make this next part as short as possible. We’d been told all day how
it’s not uncommon to see people walking around in full Civil War garb, just for the fun of it. Remember that, and the
fact we were told we’d be meeting a woman named Pat who would be in period dress and carrying a basket. When we pulled
up to the meeting point we immediately took note of the whiskered old gentleman in full woolen uniform, a Union Soldier come
to life. How delightful to see this grizzled old man living out a time he could almost but not quite remember! We smiled at
him as we took a seat on a bench, since Pat had not yet arrived. An hour later we placed a frantic call to Stacey, our CVB
girl, who placed a frantic call to Pat, who turned up in full period dress, carrying a basket, just as we figured out the
old Union Soldier was sent in her stead to guide us around the downtown. Apologies all around, relief on our part and on Pat’s
part, as she thought something horrid must have happened to John (the soldier) since he was never late when he was sent to
guide people in Pat’s absence. Pat went back home to her gardening and we started off on our tour with John.
It turned out he was heartier than anyone could imagine, walking around in 113 degree heat in full
woolen uniform, telling us all about the historic buildings downtown, especially as they related to his own family. We could
not have chosen a more delightful guide or a better way to suffer the heat while enjoying a good tale. John has written several
small books telling the stories his family passed down, having had two relatives who were doctors in Gettysburg during the
battle. He told us of one doctor’s son, a boy of only 13, who made his way over to the church across the street from
his home after it had been pressed into service (as all churches were) as makeshift hospitals. The young man spend every day
of the battle and the weeks the followed tending to the wounded and the dying, making their final moments or their convalescence
as easy as possible. Simon and I thought of our own boys (mine being 13, too), and what that must have been like for
a lad of that age to see so much suffering while giving so much comfort. A drink of water for a dying man at the hand of a
young boy must have been the closest thing to a mothers loving touch as could be imagined under such hellish circumstances.
We began to feel the pull of Gettysburg, not only from the standpoint of bravery in battle but also from the perspective of
the townspeople who spent the next several months saving lives and burying the dead. By the end of the tour we felt like family,
as if John had taken us into his home and given us the gift of his history. Find him if you go to Gettysburg and ask him to
tell you his story. I truly regret we did not have our picture taken with him, a precious opportunity missed.
When
Stacey offered to set up our itinerary we expected she’d organize a few of the obvious things in the area, but were
surprised and delighted with our next stop. Simon has always had access to the fine wines of Europe, Australia and Africa
and we also enjoy a good California wine now and then, so it was with great interest that we learned there were several wineries
in Pennsylvania and Virginia. Our next stop took us to a small tasting room in the downtown area where we sampled the likes
of Tears of Gettysburg, Rebel Red, Redd Buttler (yes, Redd Butler) and (wait for it….) Sweet Scarlett. Adams
Country Winery is located just outside of town and was a bit of a surprise, with a few of the wines actually being
not only drinkable but also pleasant. I’ve been to wineries in Michigan and Washington DC and would rather water the
lawn with their wines than drink them. One wine I had in Michigan was so bad I actually added sugar to it, hoping it would
improve to the point of being able to pass down my throat, but it only made it worse, if that’s even possible. We sipped at the wine offerings, but not too much since we had been given a dinner appointment at
one of the area’s finest Inns. We freshened up back at Cricket House (it was 113 degrees, remember, and we were getting
a bit skanky), then made our way out of town to a small inn called Herr Tavern and Publick House. Herr Tavern
has a fascinating history, having been the site of a counterfeiting operation, a stop along the Underground Railroad and,
along with the churches in the area, a hospital during the Civil War. Some say it was also a brothel at one point, but if
that’s the case, the walls aren’t talking. They are, however, talking when it comes to the Tavern’s use
as a hospital. You can honestly feel the soldier’s agony in that building, I kid you not, and you can imagine the sawed
off limbs being thrown out the window onto a cart piled high with its gruesome cargo.
In spite of this rather
unappetizing fact, Herr Tavern was one of the finest meals we have had in a very long time. We moaned and rolled our eyes
as we ate, shamefully cleaning our plates (well, almost) and downing most of the bottle of wine they graciously offered us
when we arrived. Simon and our ‘water boy’ made a game of it, with Simon hiding his water glass in various
locations around the dining room (we were alone in a small alcove room, at least to begin with), but the waiter was too good.
He barely had to look before he spotted his prey. I guess you get a sixth-sense when you serve that much water, and we were
sucking it down like it was…well…water!
Full of food, wine and water, we toured the Inn portion of
the building, then had to make a dash for it to be on time for our 9:30pm Ghost Tour. This is where things
took a turn for the strange. I don’t know what I expected, but this sort of tour is right up my street. We joined
a moderate-sized group, led by a costumed guide who, by all accounts, knows some of the ghosts by name. Our first stop was
in a field where a ghost she says is named George lives. She described how he likes to play with women’s hair, how he
often walks up behind her or the other guests and puts a hand lightly on their shoulder, and how there are several other ghosts
in the area, each with its own favorite ‘haunting spot’. She told us George had been very active recently and
that we had a good chance of ‘seeing’ him that night.
However, (surprise!) we didn’t see him,
nor did we see any of his field-dwelling companions. Before we left the area our guide said, “I wonder if he’s
passed over?” Someone in the crowd said, “No.” Then she said, “Is he here now?” and again, the
answer ‘No’. Suddenly, I realized everyone was looking at me. The guide was also looking at me and said, “Is
he mad at me?” That’s when I realized I’d been the one saying No. How embarrassing! I got all flustered
and said “I have no idea if he’s mad at you”, but I really wanted to crawl under a rock.
The
guide walked next to me for a while, asking me about ‘special talents’ and telling me about her daughter, who
is sensitive to these things but is terrified by them, too. We had a very pleasant chat until we reached the next stop, when
she began telling us the area had an underground stream that, during the war, had been an above ground stream. Bodies that
had fallen into the stream during battle had washed downstream, ending in a log-jam of sorts right on that very spot as they
clogged up the water trying to pass under a bridge that had been there at the time. She told us one man’s corpse had
so much pressure on it from the pile up that his teeth stuck in the wood frame of the bridge when they pulled him out. Cool!!
The stream has been paved over but, according to our guide, the ghosts
of the soldiers still haunt the underground area. There happens to be a grate in the pavement and, as legend has it, if you
stand on the grate you’ll feel soldier’s hands grasping your ankles, trying to pull themselves out of the water.
(Ooooh, spooky!) Simon stood on the grate, but the soldiers must have been busy doing other things. Either that, or they’d
figured out the tourists weren’t going to be any help at all and they’d gone down river on their own, looking
for greener pastures.
There were several other convenient stops that all looked like convincing locations for ghosts
(an old barn where a crazy soldier is said to live in the basement and the ghost of a young girl, hung by her father when
he found out she was pregnant, is supposed to dwell) but the truth is, other than the area where George was supposed to be,
there really was no sense of otherworldly happenings. Still, it was fun to hear ghost stories in the dark and to see the tourists
snapping pictures of empty windows, hidden cellars and the one thing that did show up that night….a cannon ball from
the Civil War that was still stuck in the upper story of a cranky old woman’s house. We were told we could take pictures
but to be quiet there as the woman was not at all happy to have ghost seekers scrounging around her porch every night during
high season.
It had been a thoroughly enjoyable day, hotter than the blazes of hell but full of the sort of stories Simon
and I love to hear. Stories of valor, stories of fear and bravery, stories of people overcoming the greatest of challenges
on their way to a whole new country. I’m a flag waver and proud of it, and Gettysburg made this patriot’s heart
beat just a little bit faster, with pride in those who made it all happen.
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
