Visiting Historic Cities on North America’s East Coast

I've just written these 2100 words for a local community newspaper, so thought I'd also share it here as well.

In June of this year, our little family of three had the most amazing holiday; our first ever ‘big’ holiday overseas together. Now that our daughter is twelve, we figured this was a good time to do it, as she’ll remember it forever more, and she was also willing to sleep on the couch some of the time, saving us a fair bit of money with accommodation!

My husband and I seem to manage one 4-week holiday in the Northern Hemisphere once every seven years, with somewhere closer like New Zealand or South East Asia in-between, at around the 3-4 year point if we’re lucky. These things are expensive so we take it pretty seriously and plan every detail as carefully as we can, to make sure we get the greatest bang for our buck.

This trip was initially a holiday built around my intention of attending an academic heritage conference in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. For this reason, I booked our flights a full year ahead, so we could get the cheapest deal. I made sure I included all the cities on our ‘B List’ of historic cities to visit in North America (mainly because I’ve achieved my personal ‘A List’ already, having been to NYC, Chicago, San Francisco and New Orleans in the past).

We’re very much independent travellers, so I also booked all our accommodation in what we considered the most ambient places in the best locations for our budget on Air B’n’B, a year ahead. I even booked our house-sitters in a year ahead, and they planned their flights and all their arrangements around this too.

But life being what it is, the sponsoring Universities then pulled the dates for the conference forward by one whole week! Being completely self-funded I was gutted, as the cheap flights I’d bought us were totally non-changeable. But once I picked myself up off the floor, I soon came around to the idea that it was meant to be, and we may as well just run with it and have a fabulous family holiday. So, that’s what we did!

We flew United Airlines from Melbourne straight to Montreal via a few hours change-over in Los Angeles. This was my sixth change-over at LA Airport in my lifetime, yet I’ve never left the terminal. I haven’t really seen the need to. It’s a long haul to Montreal, about 30 hours door-to-door, including all transit aspects, so we got to our two story loft apartment by about 11pm, and let ourselves in using the key codes on the front and internal doors.

We had a whole week in Montreal, founded 1642 (because I thought I’d be attending that critical heritage conference!), but it turned out really well because we got to know that beautiful, user friendly city in significant detail. We stayed in the historic Old Port District, but travelled all over the city, exploring its various nooks and crannies on foot and via subway.

It must be said that going on holiday with me is like a tourism boot camp, because we walk ourselves ragged each day. There’s always so much I want to cram into our time away. We’re mainly interested in exploring culturally diverse urban neighbourhoods, historic homes, museums, galleries, parks, bookshops and trying good quality local food wherever we go. That’s our idea of a great holiday. We catch local trains and buses, and staying Air B’n’B also means we get to go to local supermarkets, stock up on unfamiliar produce, cook our own dinners, and save money imagining we live wherever it is that we’re staying.

After Montreal, we caught a train for just two hours over to Quebec City, the oldest fully walled city in North America, claimed by the French in 1608. After that we flew down to the Deep South to spend 3 nights in Charleston, South Carolina, settled 1670, home to the slave trade and the start of the Civil War. Next we hired a car and drove down to Savannah, via two grand plantation properties and the sweetest coastal town called Beaufort. (where 'The Big Chill' was filmed in the early 1980s). We spent 3 nights in Savannah, Georgia, settled 1733, then flew North again to Boston, Massachusetts, settled 1630 by English Puritans, where we spent 5 nights.  While there, we also caught a fast ferry two hours North to Salem, and spent an extraordinary day there learning about the witch trails of 1692. These five incredible cities (plus the day trips to Beaufort and Salem) were the heart of our holiday.

On the way back we flew over to Denver, Colorado, settled in 1858, and stayed for just 1 night and finally Los Angeles, California, for 1 accidental night, courtesy of United Airlines’ multiple stuff-ups with our connections. It was the most extraordinary trip, so I thought I’d share a bit about it here just in case any of you have an interest in these places. Here’s my take on the places we went:

Montreal was thoroughly enjoyable and we feel we did justice to its diverse offerings – So much so that we never need to return. A week there was the perfect amount of time. We went to inspired museums, caught a Cirque du Soleil show, ate absolutely incredible food in the Jewish district and the most sublime oysters in the Italian district, inspected extraordinary churches which almost blew our minds, watched the city brace itself like a well oiled event machine for the Grand Prix, and did so many cool things that there’s not enough space to rattle on about them all here. We walked until our hips ached and our feet blistered. We saw and experienced so much, and would highly recommend Montreal to others, though only in their Summer! This is a city of extreme cold most of the year, hence the mammoth underground labyrinth of shopping malls, some of which we explored on our way to the Museum of Fine Arts (five extraordinary buildings connected by a web of underground galleries). Montreal deserves its accolades.

Quebec City was both fascinating and very old-fashioned. Their approach to tourism seems stuck in the late 1970s somehow, which they say is when the locals discovered that their quirky old city might be of interest to outsiders. This fortress city has a long and bloody history as it sits at the start of the Saint Lawrence River  at the strategic gateway to French Canada. The city is dominated by a fairy-tale style grand hotel called Chateaux Frontenac with an enormous wide wooden Promenade that has an 18^th Century feel: It doesn’t seem right that everyone’s wearing modern clothes! We stayed in an ancient street in the old Port district and had to hike up and down the hilltop many times in order to see everything we wanted to see. It’s a very interesting city with breath-taking architecture and we’re very glad we went, but it has an odd vibe; a tension you can actually feel.

Charleston was unbelievably hot and sultry when we were there, and we almost melted. The saving grace was the iced tea we bought on multiple occasions at the city markets for a couple of bucks. We did a horse and carriage tour around the old city’s heart and the most delicious foodie walking tour, savouring many local specialties including shrimp biscuits and grits. We also toured three Civil War mansions while in Charleston: one preserved in it’s original condition (that was the most pr,ofound experience), one partially restored and one fully restored. We also wandered along the Esplanade where they used to bring all the slave ships in and contemplated the park where they hung many poor people from trees once upon a time. This is the heartland of people who still speak of the ‘War of Northern aggression’ (rather than the Civil War) and home to the horrific massacre that took place at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church  exactly one year prior to our visit. It was being commemorated all over the city while we were there. We enjoyed Charleston immensely and like each American city we visited we dearly wished we had another night there, so we could see everything on our wish-list.

Savannah is an entirely seductive city full of 23 or more charming urban parks, draped with Spanish Moss on 'Live Oaks', with the most famous being Forsyth Park, which we used as our basis for meandering about. We even went to a Sunday morning service at Savannah’s first Southern Baptist Church to sway to the singing of the gospel choir. We sat with the mainly Afro-American congregation and listened to the Preacher, who was quite enlightened and moved me to tears at times. Savannah was also home to John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, so the spiritual heritage of Savannah is deep. Having a car during our stay there was also very handy for driving to Bonaventure Cemetery, where we did the most incredibly haunting and powerful two hour walking tour with a very talented story-teller. Our daughter had a yearning to visit the beach while in Savannah, so we also drove out of town to spend an afternoon where the locals go: grey sanded North Beach on Tybie Island with an old Lighthouse,  where I sat and read on an adult sized swing while my family went swimming in the strangely brown seawater. Despite the weird low-country swamp beaches, this was the one city we could actually imagine ourselves living happily in – It was incredibly beautiful and peaceful with lovely ante-bellum buildings and supermarket checkout chicks who say things like “Y’all be blessed” when you buy your groceries.

Boston is a highly civilised and historic city, beautifully set up for visitors to enjoy. We stayed in the centrally located Beacon Hill next to Boston Common, and found we could walk to almost everything we wanted to see: the Italian North End, Waterfront, Back Bay and the Boston Museum of Fine Arts in Fenway. We caught a train a couple of stops over to MIT and then on to Harvard University and did a guided tour of the campus. The highlight for me though was visiting Boston’s oldest surviving wooden house, built in 1680, and home to American Patriot Paul Revere and our private tour of the neighbouring Pierce/Hitchborn House, the oldest surviving brick home: Both so wonky and wonderful. Trekking about the charming and steep cobblestone streets of Beacon Hill admiring the brownstone architecture was also magical. We just loved Boston, and would return in a heartbeat.

Denver was surprisingly uplifting. It was flat as a pancake, despite the fact that it sits a mile high, underneath the great Rockie Mountains. We only had one evening to enjoy dinner on our hotel rooftop and a morning to do a historic walking tour of LoDo (Lower Downtown), but every moment was an absolute pleasure. After the tour of the mammoth brick warehouse and distribution district, we went back to several of the places our guides told us about: the landmark Cowboy retailer store, the authentic Art Deco Prohibition Bar, a cavernous ambient book barn, and so on. At first glance Denver seems a dry and barren place, but give it a second glance and you catch its pulse palpitating all around you. It’s quite amazing and we wished we had two more nights there. They have some great looking galleries and museums too, but we didn’t get to see any of them.

Los Angeles was exactly like we thought it would be: sprawling suburbs as far as the eye could see, an unattractive mishmash of buildings and palm trees smothered in visibly grey air pollution and it’s distinctly unglamorous as an overall urban landscape. However, it was interesting to get a peek of Venice Beach, West Hollywood, Beverley Hills, Hollywood Boulevard and the original multicultural Farmer’s Market. The residents are tremendously spirited and proud of their drab city which sparkles brightly in their mind’s eye. There’s a lot to see and when we have the opportunity to revisit I’m sure we’ll happily fill a week doing fascinating things.

The final thing I’d like to say is that the quality of the food everywhere we went was simply superb. Gave us so many new ideas for how to approach daily meals! We're very privileged to have had the opportunity to plan and take this incredible trip, and hope this reflective overview may be helpful to those interested in any or all of these destinations.

Amusing one's inner travel bug...

The problem with coming home is that if it was a really great trip (which it absolutely was), all one can think about is where to go next. I'm shocking like that. I have a long track record, stretching back to the 1980s, of wanting to book the next trip the moment I get back from the last.

True to form, I have done this already, conceptually, at least. We arrived home nine and a half days ago, and about two nights ago, I identified our little beachside get-away for Summer - That's six months away, which is actually quite late for me, in terms of just starting to plan it now.  I usually book things a year ahead, which is weird, I know, but it's the way I work best. I'm not at all spontaneous with regard to holidays. I like to know I've got something to work towards and look forward to, and having that concept locked in helps me buckle down and work as hard as I can to pull the funds together for whatever it is, whether it's that very occasional big overseas trip, a small interstate trip or even just a few hours drive down the road. This tendency means I almost never have the opportunity to take advantage of those 'seasonal specials' which are far too short notice for me.  Because location is important to me, this is another reason I like to book things in early, so as to also secure a style of place suited to my taste and price-range.

Anyway, what I intend to book for Summer is just five nights by the South Australian coast, as that's my home state. The climate there is always several degrees warmer than it is anywhere on the Victorian coast and a whole lot less crowded. The Air BnB place I've found is a simple, stylishly appointed, one bedroom brick unit, half a block from the beach, for half the price it would normally cost to lease a tiny, grimy beachside cabin in a caravan park at that time of year! J can sleep on the couch. If we book it in by August or so, and for some reason we change our mind (which we won't), we get a full refund, bar the booking (service) fee. From my perspective, having that peace of mind makes it worth the punt.

In any case, it will probably be another seven years until we have a big, by which I mean 'long-haul', trip overseas like we just had. When we do it will involve Scotland and certain parts of Europe. It has to. I've lived far too long to have not yet been to the homeland of my ancestors - I need a full two weeks in Scotland, at least!

In the interim, there's quite a list of Australian destinations we'd like to get to over the next bunch of years, for one reason or another. I'm also hoping to go somewhere special (and cheap!) in South East Asia for my milestone birthday at the end of next year. It's good to have goals - It makes you work harder. And of course, there's a whole lot of domestic and mortgage related goals we have as well, like most people do.

The other problem with coming home is that if you don't have any time to actually recover and recuperate properly, and I haven't, you get knocked out by the first contagious affliction that comes your way. And so it is that I have contracted a particularly mean cold & flu, which I want to kick a.s.a.p., so I can get on with all the things I have on my 'to do' list. I've got work to do, and study too.

I may not blog again for a while, as I have a lot to get on with. So thanks for reading! When I next travel somewhere interesting, I'll be sure to return to this li'l blog. Come to think of it, I'm going to the Bendigo Writer's Festival next month, so maybe I'll type more then. Who knows?

A fast afternoon in Los Angeles

At 4am (according to our Denver time clocks) we opened the door to our room at the Marriott Courtyard (the hotel United Airlines placed us in for two nights accom, so that we could sleep all day if we needed to, following their protracted torture of our good selves, via extensive time-wasting and sleep deprivation).

The Marriott is a great standard hotel in the immediate Airport precinct, so I was relieved to learn that's where we were headed. It's worth about AUD$265 p.n. retail sale value. While it's not somewhere I would choose to stay personally, it's good because it's totally reliable, safe, professional and you know exactly what you will get. It reminded me very much of the four business conferences I've attended in the U.S. in the past, as my Company often used the Marriott, or similar chains. So anyway, we undid the sofa bed for J and she went straight to sleep.

L & I were too hyped up to sleep, and in any case I felt compelled to do some fast research into what on earth we wanted to see in LA in our one unexpected afternoon there, and how best to approach it, without spending a bomb. The irony was that I have a whole detailed list of things I want to see in LA on my home computer, but here we were in LA, by accident, and with no idea what was practical to squeeze into 5 hours. I also wasn't sure how we'd wake up after such an ordeal. I decided to set the alarm for 1pm LAX time, meaning about 10 hours sleep for J and 8 hours for us. In actual fact we woke up at about 11am, and fuddled about having showers and doing things.

When my friends found out we had some time in LA they were full of suggestions that were absolutely perfect for me, and I actually found it quite touching how well they know my tastes and preferences.  The unanimous advice was 1) The J Paul Getty Museum; 2) Santa Monica; 3) The Last Bookstore on 5th Street. These are all places I would dearly love to go, along with Universal Studios and Pasadena, but it wasn't all about me. We're a trio, and I had to take that into consideration. Given how much travelling we've done in a condensed period of time, and how weary we were, I knew my loved ones would have little ability to focus in on one of the western world's most abundant museums and its extensive contents on our surprise afternoon in LA. All we thought we'd be doing by then was sleeping at home in our own beds! So, even though the Getty Museum is one we would sincerely LOVE to see, there's no point going there when in a spent state.

I did think about travelling by public bus to Santa Monica, for $2.50 return each, and having a quiet, relaxing time walking around the pier, the fun park and admiring the local art deco architecture. That was my personal preference. But then, there's still that dimension of selfishness there, which I had to acknowledge. If it happens that we never have the chance to come to LA again in our lives, who am I to deny my hub and kid the opportunity to drive through Beverley Hills, to see that Hollywood sign on the hill and to stand on the stars on Hollywood Boulevard?

So with these thoughts in mind, I gave L the go-ahead to book a half day tour of 'whatever' the mainstream tourism industry thinks we need to see. So that after 25 days of completely independent travelling, we could for once just get into a limo van, and be taken around, without having to think for ourselves. I battle with that sort of thing, coz I always feel I could do it better myself, because I could (!), but in this instance, it was important for me to let my hub and kid have a go at the easy way. So off we went, on a five hour, fully programmed tour of effectively just three hotspots across LA. But it did mean that we saw way more than we ever could of on our own in just one afternoon.

Having missed lunch, dinner and breakfast over the preceeding 24 hours, at 1pm we had the downstairs bistro manager organise a BLT with turkey for each of us, even though they were actually closed at the time. I had a word with four different staffers, and they soon realised they'd best offer us something freshly made. It was delicious and felt replenishing, so we did tip them generously.

At 2pm, as scheduled, our black limo van arrived and swept us off, along with two Australian couples who were already in the vehicle, drawn from nearby hotels. As LA is so spread out it takes time to drive from place to place, which for us was fascinating viewing of the city's vast residential areas of no particularly visual beauty most of the time, but interesting to us none-the-less.

We were taken straight to the notorious Venice Beach, a place I've always believed I'd be happy to get a glimpse of, but for which there is no need for me to go more than once. Even though we only had twenty minutes there, of which about eight minutes was taken up getting to and from the main Esplanade, I do feel satisfied I've seen it and need never return.  It seemed so grey and polluted to me, which L says is unfair of me to say, as I'm spoilt by the pristine white sands of the Australian beaches. But, I do have to call it as I see it. It's also full of dead-beats, looking for their next scam. I've been thinking about it quite a bit, and I think it is the air pollution that puts me off the most - The grey haze of smog, as far as the eye can see. It doesn't inspire me at all. Hong Kong has the same problem, obviously, as do many places, but when it's apparent by the ocean, it's particularly sad.

After that fast leg-stretching episode we were back in the van for another hour or more, being given a narrated tour of Beverley Hills. Our driver was no tour guide of any great capability, but he was basically well intended and clearly very proud of his city. Eventually we were given 40 minutes to get out and move around again on Hollywood Boulevard. We raced about feeling a bit too busy and almost giddy, due to the sudden intensity of people and hub-bub. We raced through throngs of people to ascend four flights through a complex shopping mall, to find that particular arcade spot where you can see the Hollywood sign far off on the hill-top. The entire shopping complex was full of ice-cream parlours. I've never seen a whole complex devoted to so many various dessert oriented businesses. It would have been too tempting if we'd had any time to meander, which we did not. We had to race off and stand on some cracked stars ... It was kinda fun ... I guess.

We also spent fifteen or so minutes charging around LA LA Land like pinballs. It's a big, bright, neon-lit, souvenir shop of the pulsating and magnetic type. It sucks you in and you have to buy tacky t-shirts, sweaters, mock Oscar trophies, key-rings and baseball caps, whether you like it or not.

After this (frankly) frantic stop we got back into our van and were told there'd be only one more place to look forward to. That was 'The Grove Farmers Market'. I was sceptical, as I'd never heard of it. However, when we got there, we realised that from a purely tourist-ish point of view, there were a lot of options there to satisfy all sorts of interests. We were not at all interested in the generic 'shopping' options, which exist all over America, but we were into the quaint, labyrinth of rather smokey food halls that were semi-outdoors, and seemed to showcase all sorts of international cuisine, in the way that only America does: Not upmarket, but somehow authentic and impressive if you take the time to stop and comprehend it all. Anyway, we had barely enough time to swill some beverages and buy a square of toffee, but we do know that when we one day return to LA we will revisit this great food market, but next time we will do so at dinner time!

Anyway, we got back to our hotel room at 7pm, had one hour to clean up our act, and then we were out of there, on our way home to Australia. I do not regret taking that weirdly time consuming grab-bag of a tour, because we still saw a whole bunch more than we would have if we'd not done it, BUT... We can do things so much better independently, if allowed a few fresh moments with which to plan things.

I have enough on my 'Must See' list for LA now to comfortably fill a full week there, and so ... One day in the future we will do that. A quality experience requires planning and consideration. But it was amazing, however weird, to have this unanticipated opportunity to grab glimpses of LA, and we are thankful for that.

Explorations of Denver...

Our day started well. We had a delicious fast breakfast at our Art Hotel where we could see the Rockies from our breakfast table. L & J were like "Wow" whereas I just thought they looked almost exactly like the Adelaide Hills. J actually rolled her eyes when I said that. Hello adolescence!!!

The Art Hotel gave us a courtesy car ride to Union Station to meet our tour guides (which we'd organised independently, so this was good of them). Our two absolutely delightful 'docents' (which means volunteer guides) from the Denver Historical Society were there at the flagpole to meet us with warmth, enthusiasm and professionalism. Diane and Bobbie wore logo'd polo shirts and co-hosted our tour. We were the only ones on it, so we had the best experience. This was a heritage architecture tour of the LoDo District surrounding Union Station, opened in 1881. It was the hub of the new railway push into the Western Frontier, and the wealth of well constructed and supremely sturdy warehouses and distribution centres in the area is quite extraordinary.

Within ten minutes of starting the 90 minute tour our guides had completely transformed our understanding of what we were looking at. The streetscapes all around us came to life in a new way. Once we got a grasp of their architectural vernacular, and their purpose, it was terrifically exciting. We learned so much, about brick work, in particular, and we greatly enjoyed it. I was particularly interested to find similarities in appreciation of aspects of built heritage such as 'Ghost Signs' which we in Ballarat are also developing a keener interest in recently, or at least more explicitly than previously.

Denver is an amazing city. It's a mile above sea level, which explains my tight chest and my being short of breath - I was pretty worried last night and this morning, but once the women explained it to me, I'm like, "Oh, phew... So I'm not about to have a heart attack." Turns out J was having the same thoughts. And it's hot and dry here. It was 37 degrees today, in the shade, but felt more like 47. Big, bright blue skies and a sense of unique conditions. People here are pretty zesty. It's a city with a pulse. That much I've worked out. Locals here are mad keen on scooter riding, which struck me as very hip. There are scooters everywhere you look!

Anyway, we toured the oldest hotel in Denver, the Oxford, and had a private peek at their hyper Art Deco Cruise Room Bar, shaped like a wine bottle, illuminated in watermelon pink light, with all the trimmings, including booths, circular bar stools in chrome and a jukebox. It opened the very day after prohibition ended in America, and is the most authentic, kick-arse, cool bar I have ever seen in my life, with music to match. 

After the tour ended we felt compelled to visit a few of the places the women had pointed out on the tour. This included the iconic store Rockmount Ranch Wear, owned by a man named Papa Jack.  He actually invented those press dud buttons everyone had on their western shirts in the 1970s.  We spent about 30 minutes in there admiring everything and learning all about the legacy of the man who lived to be 107. This was the best cowboy and cowgal store imaginable.

We went back to the main wooden clad and general bar area of the Oxford, with it's ornate, gold pressed metal ceiling, for refreshments and a light bite to eat, because air conditioning is important to experience whenever possible. It was impossibly hot outside. I had a cocktail called a 'Kentucky Smash' and shared some lobster nuggets with J. Both items were utterly delicious. We figured it was our last (mini) meal in America. After that we visited the bookstore we saw on our tour called the Tattered Cover. That was an absolute barn, and so ambient with dark wooden shelves and lush, soft chocolate leather lounge chairs. The aesthetic of Denver is highly appealing to us.

I realised by mid afternoon, that I would really love to comeback here and spent four nights, so I can visit all the museums and galleries, and do a whole lot more. I'd stay AirBnB and plan it really carefully, but regardless of whether or not that ever happens, I am so glad we were able to come see and touch this place. It's one of America's the fastest growing cities.

We made sure we checked out Larimer Sqaure before we left, and then we grabbed the free shuttle bus all the way down 16th Street, to Broadway. That was eleven big city blocks we did not have to walk. Next we walked just four blocks across to 12th Street, past the grand civic square, with monumentally impressive state buildings at each end of the square. That was populated mostly by the homeless, and therefore not frequented by many other people. Just as we got to our mirrored Art Hotel, ready to take the private limo service we'd booked (it's only $4 dearer than a taxi, and so much nicer) I saw the sign that made me feel ill. 

The Colorado History Museum which looks and sounds superb in all dimensions, especially re digital  and interactive displays, was directly opposite our Hotel and  open all day!!! I sware I checked the opening days of at least four or five museums I wanted to visit and they were all closed on Mondays. And now, having left downtown Denver at 3.30pm to be fully on time for our flights home to Melbourne, Australia, our departing flight was delayed nine times, and is now scheduled to fly at 12.30am, arriving in Los Angeles two hours later. So we've missed our international flight home, and we will have spent 8.5 hours today at the Airport. So I could have gone to the Colorado History Museum after-all!!!  Growl.

Dipping into Denver...

This morning we bid farewell to beautiful Boston, and grabbed a cab to the Airport with a nice Muslim driver.  Were pleased with our time in Boston and especially with how comfortable Boston felt. I really did not expect it to be so warm, in all senses of the word.

Upon checking in we found our flight had been delayed, again. Originally I booked this particular flight because I wanted to leave at 10am and arrive by midday (thanks to time changes) so as to create a full afternoon to explore the art galleries of Denver Colorado. Most American galleries are closed on Mondays, but i figured so long as we had the Sunday, I could at least visit the one closest to our hotel, the Art Hotel. Right? Wrong. It was changed to 11am a few months ago, then 12 midday, now 1pm, and by the time all was said an done it had been delayed again, and we finally left at 1.45pm. Thanks United! No art gallery for me today.

For months I've wished I'd booked 3 nights in Denver to maximise the chance to check everything out. But the cost of changing my bargain priced tickets was insane, so we're stuck with what it is: one evening and most of tomorrow through until almost 4pm, when we need to leave for the airport again.  Still, it shaves 4 hours off the trip, which is worth it, rather than adding to the massive journey. Furthermore, if we had been flying to Melbourne tonight, we would have missed our onward connection, so would be pretty stressed by now. Have to just hope tomorrow's planned departure is on time. If not, we may get that Los Angeles stopover we'd contemplated after-all!

When we landed at Denver Airport, I expected to see the Rocky Mountain Ranges, but no. I was reticent to grab a cab, given how many complete clowns we've encountered when taking a random cab from the Airport, but Laurie thought it remained the best option.  We had a guy from Haiti or the Dominican Republic, wearing a Pork Pie hat. The Airport is way out in the middle of nowhere, but as we got closer to the city and entered the outskirts it all looked rough and rugged, and we saw several clusters of homeless people under bridges, in little parks and at the intersections.  One was holding a cardboard sign by the road side saying "Give me anything but watermelon."

We arrived at the Art Hotel by 6pm (which for us was 8pm Boston time, as we've gained two hours). Once we'd checked out our room, with it's 'city views', which doesn't mean much at all, we ate the complimentary nut mixes and all puzzled over how it could have taken ten whole hours to travel from Boston to Denver door to door.

This evening we had a couple of bevvies and some eats on the Terrace, and called that dinner. Had a great waitress. A major law firm were having a function on more than half of the Terrace area, so we had the benefit of enjoying their string sextet. We're pretty tired from all this travelling, and Laurie is looking forward to going home. This hotel seems perfect for one night. Doesn't seem 'arty' to us at all, but architecturally the externals are fairly post-modern and wild. As for the internals and general decor, however, it's just a simple, contemporary approach. I've only seen one artistic piece in the foyer - a sculpture of a horse - that's it. Well, that's not technically true. There are a few other pieces here and there and a few paintings on the walls in public areas. There is also a catalogue style booklet outlining all of the art displayed (sparingly) throughout the hotel, which I presume is by well established artists. I haven't had time to read the detail on that just yet.

I've stayed at three 'Art Hotels' in Australia's Victoria; the Olsen, the Larwill and the Schaller, all part of the same chain (and completely different to this one obviously). I like them, and they are at least somewhat arty! I also find them very clean (partly because they're often in old hospitals - either that or they're quite new!) and respectful of everyone's privacy. The rooms are full of peppy and uplifting appointments, they serve excellent quality food, have good magazine and book areas, stylish lounge areas, complimentary jars of confectionary and generally speaking everyone who stays at them looks reasonably interesting. These are a commercial take on it all, but at least they have their heart visibly in the right place. That said, I've stayed at plenty of Arty Hotels, that are not labelled as such, in Sydney, Canberra and Wellington. We also stayed at Moira Mirka's Tolarno hotel in St Kilda a few times, and an early entry art hotel in East Berlin in 2001. Anyway... All I'm saying is that this here Denver hotel is great, but it has very little to do with promoting the arts in general!

Tomorrow we're off to explore Denver, so I look forward to reporting back on our findings.

Museum of Fine Arts Boston & Day Trip to Salem

Having been here four days now, J and I can confirm that Bostonians bump into each other a lot. The first day I was here I thought it must be me, bowling into people, slamming hips and shoulders with others, but then on reflection it struck me that I'm not ordinarily clumsy, and furthermore, when I've said sorry, they've not said anything in response, or been at all concerned by the collision. It's like they didn't notice it at all. Again today, at the MFA (Museum of Fine Arts) people were bumping into J & I like we were skittles. So anyway, having discussed it, we now confirm this must simply be the Bostonian way.

This morning we spent a few hours at the MFA, inspecting the permanent collection of contemporary art and photography, plus the feature exhibition, 'Mega-Cities Asia'. It was great. After that we walked along the pathway beside the Fenway to Back Bay and along the main shopping strip which is  Newbury Street. The rows of six story townhouses throughout this area are awesome. We stopped for lunch at Sonsie's in the cafe area, and shared a 'white' pizza with duck bacon, dried cherries, spring onion and goats cheese. I had a lemongrass gimlet, and it was divine. Cocktails are so exxie in Australia that I never have them, so I've been enjoying having the occasional one while here.

We then visited a comic superstore for J, and thereafter navigated our way through the Boston Botanic Gardens which was alive with families, wedding parties and bursting with so much joie de vivre I felt like we could have been on the film set of  the film 'Enchanted', especially with all those white swan driven gondolas they have floating around on the lake. It was the perfect temperature with a soft breeze, and the whole walk home from the MFA was just lovely.

Yesterday we took a fast ferry up to Salem, as a return day trip. It only took us 15 minutes to walk to the Wharf, and an hour on the ferry flew past, as the captain gave a great narration the whole way there. The weather was a clear calm 28 degrees with big blue sky above, and it was a pleasant day out. Salem is a sweet township, and we found two open gardens, as well as the main heritage house streets (Chestnut for upmarket and Essex for mainstream living) and really enjoyed the architecture. We had a relaxing lunch up on the verandah of a great seafood restaurant by the marina. It felt like a holiday, which after-all is what this is meant to be. After that we checked out the very old cemetery, and the main downtown mall and a few shops. L & J had to find the statue of actress Elizabeth Montgomery and pose with her. We're all great fans of the original Bewitched series. J also enjoyed the work of a giant bubble blower in the downtown mall. We did lots of little things in old Salem town.

Overall, I was a bit disappointed that the witchy stuff has been commercialised every which way, and is tacky tourism orientated, but overall that stuff doesn't taint the beauty of this coastal township. If I'd spent the time doing my research into exactly which museums to go to, we would have done better on some level, but if that was the case then we would have needed more time. We did visit one 'so called' Museum, but it was far too 'lowest common denominator' for us. I felt it had a place (in the 1970s). We've noticed this a couple of times here, where first in museums which were innovative in the 70s or 80s are now tired and dated, but no-one's managed to tell the management. It's a bit sad.

We'd booked to come back on the 4pm ferry, but would have needed to come home on the 7pm ferry if we'd wanted to see all the things we really should have seen. I kind of think we needed those extra 3 hours, but the fact is we were quite tired on the way home as it was. Of the sixty people on the ferry with us, I counted ten of them sound asleep on the journey back. All that walking in the sun... I felt like sleeping too, but don't like to do that in public, so I went out on the deck and got some major wind in my hair instead. Maybe the answer is to overnight in Salem.

This evening, our gal wanted a quiet night in, so as an absolute first, we agreed to pop out for an hour or two, while she sat at home in our condo, with the door locked. We went to a nearby foodie bar called 'The Merchant' and had two bevvies each and delicious appetizers: Mussels for L and Shrimps for Moi. It's nice to grab some grown-up time on occasion. Tonight's our last night in Boston, so it did merit a couple of cocktails. We do not get to go overseas often, but when we do, we believe we go to seriously great places, and we do treasure our time away:  Quality, not quantity.

Day Trip to Harvard...

Yesterday at about 3pm we caught the train to Harvard. As soon as we came up for air, it was apparent that we were there. We entered via the main front gates, and went first to Harvard Yard. It was pleasant, but my first impressions were much less 'wow' than I would have anticipated. It's a surprisingly approachable place, at least until you attempt to enter any of the buildings...

There was no signage for anything, no 'you are here' maps and no information officers. From 3.15pm onwards we started asking security staff at the various entrances to discipline buildings, because they seemed the only human faces we could find, yet of course none of them knew anything at all about guided tours, despite the fact that the University offers four to five free guided group tours every day of the year, except Christmas Day... So we dashed from building to building, hoping for a clue or a sign of where this tour started. It was all confirmed as real online, but on the ground, there was no sign of it at all, and certainly no knowledge or awareness of it.

On the steps of a building near an exit by the rear road, we came across a slightly distressed British woman in the same situation, though she'd been circling the joint for over 45 mins already. We joined forces with her and together we went beyond the old walls of the University, down a non-descript private enterprise style street, and at the very end, opposite a fast food mall we made a lucky find: the Harvard University Information Office, barely signed at all. I only recognised it because I've worked in the Higher Education industry for 18 years, and know how strangely bureaucratic these institutions can be, and how they completely lose sight of the obvious, some of the time, so I was alert to all possibilities, however unlikely. So anyway...

We did the one hour tour, with a lovely Afro-American performing arts student, Genevieve. It was really interesting, and our 12 year old was at the front of the tour group, along with three adolescent boys, the whole time - It was sweet to see how tremendously engaged they were. They were all so keen to learn. There was a hint of Harry Potter about it all, which added to the charm. We thoroughly enjoyed learning all about Harvard and it's history.

Afterwards we walked over to one of the main external plaza areas, as we'd made a reservation for dinner at a very cool, experimental 'food as art' sort of restaurant called Alden & Harlow. It was located in the raised basement of Brattle Hall. I had a 'Fashionably Late', stirred, and J had a 'Strawberry Fields' Mocktail. In the U.S. they do non-alcoholic bevvies terrifically well. The service was excellent, ambience perfect and the food was very high quality, of course, but particularly the buckwheat pasta. That just rocked. It was a very pleasant dining experience.

We caught the train home, and popped up out of the oldest subway station in America, the Parks station, on Boston Common, and walked up the hill to our hot little condo. We really love the way Boston Common is a smaller and more intimate version of Central Park in NYC. It's so great staying in this part of the city; the heart of Boston. Having wanted to come here all of my conscious life, it does not disappoint. It's such a walkable city and very manageable for visitors. I think we need one more day here than we actually have, but never mind...

America's first city is a very special place to be, despite the incredibly uneven and dangerous paving all across the city, and the inexplicable proliferation of Dunkin' Donut stores in all sorts of otherwise pristine heritage places...

Boston's North End and a bit on MIT...

This morning we took our trolley bus over to North End to seek out Paul Revere's house. This seemingly simple goal took us well over one hour, and given that by then we still had not located it we decided to grab an early lunch in Little Italy. When we stopped to consult one of our many useless maps, we were hustled by a Tibetan monk in orange robes wearing sneakers and a dirty beige sunhat. I've been hustled by many people over the years, but never anyone purporting to be Buddhist, so this came as a disappointment to me.

Soon after entering Little Italy's main eat-street, North Street, we were attracted to a high quality 'hole in the wall' sandwich bar that was down a long 900mm narrow laneway and around a corner. Extraordinary food, with moist salami and huge vats of giant bocconcini, and octopus and stuffed peppers swimming in olive oil. But nowhere decent to sit, other than an outdoor patio in the burning sun, so that's where we had to go. Luckily we only ordered two 'sandwiches' between us, as it turned out they were 12 inch long baguettes. We sat there, eating our delicious lunch, while the skin on our shoulders sizzled. There was nothing we could do. All the sunblock in the world could only take the edge off it.

Next we resumed our search for Paul Revere's House, and did circles of a few blocks, before it dawned on us where it might be. Just as I was about to turn back and give up on the street I thought was absolutely it, Laurie encouraged me to go up a bit further. Hey presto! It was just around the bend. Paul Revere was associated with the sons of liberty and is the hero of the American Revolution.  The house he lived his life in, with his two concurrent wives and 16 children, was built in 1680 and is the oldest surviving house in Boston Central, and the only example of 17th century domestic architecture in the city. I found it profoundly interesting. It's been carefully presented since 1908 as a partly preserved and partly restored showcase of life in the years soon after it's creation. Every room has (at least) four walls and they all go off at irregular angles, and the floors creak and heave like an old tub at sea.  I really liked it.

Out in the side yard again, just when my loved ones thought we were good to go, I announced the great news: Another heritage house just next door... Boston's oldest surviving brick home, built 1711, the Pierce/Hichborn House.  I expressed an interest and they sent the curator straight over to give us a private guided tour for $2 each. It was really good, and I must write and thank Eileen.

Thereafter we returned to explore some backstreets full of Italian foodie places, hoping to locate a pastry shop that made decent cannoli's. We found Bova's Bakery, a huge corner pastry store that had function sized quantities of dozens and dozens of different types of sweet pastries. If they really move that much stock each day, they simply must be wholesalers to the hospitality industry. To devour our cannoli from a seated position, we walked up to the park that sits over the underground expressways. This whole grassed and treed area, with its walkways and shallow water features is hailed as a great urban success story for the city and its liveability. It's reduced air and noise pollution dramatically, given city workers a healthy environment to take breaks in, and cleared traffic congestion completely.

Then, we went underground to get a train. After taking a wrong changeover we had to backtrack a bit, but eventually we made our way to Kendall Station where we thought we'd find MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology). Upon arrival, we bought a horribly diluted iced coffee (that's the only type they know how to make here) and then promptly marched off in the wrong direction, found nothing at all, so decided it was far too hard, and that Harvard was more important. If only these places had street signage for newcomers!

Just as we got back to the Station, I realised I could see a whole lot of people buzzing about further up another long street. I strong armed my loved ones into traipsing up there, on the promise we'd just peek around only one place. That turned out to be the MIT Press Bookstore. Oh my Lord! This bookstore was ugly as sin from the outside, but an absolute treasure box inside. I had to buy two little books. How could I not? Their architectural and urban studies sections were sizeable. In fact, that's all I could see, so I was extremely happy.

We then returned to the 'outward bound' station entry, and continued on to Harvard. More on that later...

Beacon Hill and Beautiful Boston

We spent all day and night Tuesday in transit, despite only travelling from Savannah, Georgia to Boston, Massachusetts. It's a long and tedious story, so suffice to say that after nearly 12 hours in transit, we found ourselves at the luggage carousel in Boston at Midnight.

We grabbed a taxi, and again destiny dealt us an utter idiot as a driver. Having hurled our bags into the back of his car with a violence that disturbed me, our driver then claimed to not know of Beacon Street, Beacon Hill. I opened the door while the car was taking its first corner and threatened to disembark there and then. For him to state that he didn't know how to get to Beacon Street is equivalent to a Sydney taxi driver saying he doesn't know where Circular Quay is, or a Melbourne driver not knowing where Federation Square is. It's bloody ridiculous. In any case, he suddenly remembered that he had heard of Beacon Street after-all, and in fact knew the shortest route there possible. Incidentally we are staying right next door to the Massachusetts State House, with it's great gold dome and grand estate. We can see the gate to the House of Representatives from our bedroom's bay window, and the security guards can see me too!

Our condo is very old money, with ghastly salmon pink walls, highly ornate fretwork, walnut dressers and chandeliers. I feel like we should be wearing 1700s wigs and full period costume with white stockings while here. It reminds me of New York's Diamond District, where we stayed for three nights in a sprawling old hotel that had seen better days, but remained loved by all the oldies (the Roosevelt.) We even have a door-person, which is lovely, though it makes me feel like we must be living in a bank.

Yesterday, we ventured out to the Boston Public Market first up to have breakfast. Laurie and I chose Jewish, while J went French. The Market itself was too clinical, contrived and showy - Presumably due to the exorbitant rents. Thereafter we explored the King's Church Grave Yard, which dates back to the 1700s and hosts Boston's first Governor. We then went inside the Church, which was really something different. Each family had their own walled booth, like sheep pens, but with red satin walls, velvet seating and black stands for four brollies.

As we emerged from this peculiar church, there was a sudden summer shower, so we dashed up to our street intending to get cardigans and a brollie, but by the time we reached our building (a matter of minutes) it had all passed and it was warm again.

We then decided we needed an overview of the city, so we descended into the Boston Common in search of the visitor centre. Found that and booked a City Trolley Tour which does a one hour loop of Boston, and is the best value. $16 each for us and $6 for J.  We can use it for two consecutive days. We had the best driver and guide ever. He was so informative and highly entertaining. Had a voice exactly like Phil's Father from Modern Family. We did the full one hour loop (I could have gone again), then went back to Boston Common coz J had decided she had to buy a sweater (partly because it had turned cold and windy again). Shortly thereafter it was warm again, so I suggested we share a pizza slice and a fresh lemonade in the park. We did that, along with a squirrel friend for company.

Next we ascended the hill toward Joy Street and began our amazing walking tour of the whole heritage rich Beacon Hill area. We loved it. Acorn Street was magic. Toward the very end of our walking expedition we came across an authentic old liquor and convenience store which immediately reminded me of Sydney's Eastern suburbs (where I lived for nine years). There's something very special about the crustiness of these old stores. Yet the nearby square where John Kerry (U.S. secretary of state) lives is premium. After all those hills and cobblestones, and all that architectural appreciation I was suddenly utterly exhausted, so we had to trek home. We cooked a meal in, as we were still weary from our crazy long day travelling via Chicago, and spent the evening watching re-runs of Seinfeld and the Big Bang Theory.

Sultry and seductive Savannah

We're staying in a very comfortable two story wooden heritage home just one block from Forsyth Park.  It sits in a picturesque, tree-lined street, and gives us a really good idea of what it might be like to actually live here. The very first thing we noticed about the historic district of Savannah is that it’s squirrel central. J thinks they're the cutest things, and they are. This city is pack jammed full of crepe myrtles with fuscia pink flowers and loads and loads of live oak trees: Heavenly.

Yesterday morning we went straight out to buy coffee, as this is the first AirBnB we've stayed at that does not supply it. Fortunately there’s a coffee bean providore and café just a few blocks away, facing the lower end of Forsyth Park. It’s a hippy trippy sort of place, and a bit too feral for me frankly. The crowd there reminded me of the scene in Newtown & Enmore in Sydney. You’re expected to half do your own dishes, which I found revolting. I felt this put a certain tarnished edge on our first impressions of Savannah, which wasn't necessarily a fair representation.

J & I had oatmeal with pecans and cranberries for brekkie, and my hub had a cheese and egg croissant. Being seated by the window, we noticed that lots of people had cute dogs. Another cool thing about the place was that they gave my hub a trophy (as an order token) when he came back to our bench by the window. I thought that was hilarious, given it was Father's Day in the U.S. yesterday. It must have been a trophy store before it was a café, coz when I looked up high I saw dozens of old 1970s trophies up on the mezzanine which they were using as junk storage.

We walked through part of Forsyth Park, which was lovely. It’s been a dream of mine to come here for twenty years now. The whole park, although large, is quite a bit smaller overall than I imagined. Next we grabbed our rental car and drove downtown to visit the First African Baptist Church on Franklin Square. Yes, believe it or not, we went to Church! Just for a look, because we’ve always wanted to witness the place that gospel came from and the blues grew out of. It was a big deal for me to get my hub in there. He’s 54 and says he would have been 7 when he last went to an actual service, other than for a wedding or funeral. I was about 12. We stayed about half an hour, just listening and watching. Heard two great songs, and found it entertaining listening to the preacher for a while, and observing the congregation, but then we had to leave. It was special though and one of those boxes in life we’ve now ticked.

Next we walked around a bit, through the City Market to Ellis Square and then over to Telfair Square. This section feels very ‘downtown’ and it’s OK, but it’s not that special, so we drove in search of a supermarket, found one and bought ourselves lunch to eat in, so as to save money. The funniest thing is that every time Laurie buys wine, he gets asked for ID. He’s 54!!! We’ve asked around and it’s a Low Country thing – Everyone get’s asked – ‘It’s the law’… When you leave a store, people say things to us like "Y'all be blessed." Classic.

J was asking why the only music on the radio is either country, reggae or God Rock, and I had to say that’s because that’s where we are… We discovered another category this afternoon ‘70s Guitar’.. .They love old rockers here. So much more to add about our adventures at Bonaventure Cemetery yesterday, on our completely absorbing 2.5 hour guided tour, which I really need to write a small essay on. It was way beyond impressive.

Then there were all of our adventures today, which began with us jumping on the free bus downtown, which poor locals seem to use. We had brunch at a great eatery on Bay Street, the walked home, as per our plan, via as many city parks as we could squeeze into the two hour time allowance. We walked from city square to city square, zigzagging in fact, all the way trying to work out which ones were our favourites. I chose a first and a second, but with so many to choose from… The fact is they are all good in their own way, if only by virtue of the fact that they are there – The lungs of this little city. It’s so wonderful. On our way we explored the oldest cemetery in Savannah, the Colonial, which was rather lovely, and a few blocks on we came across a gourmet food mini-mart as well as a very impressive bookstore. We purchased several items at each stop.


We absolutely loved visiting Charleston, in all aspects. It's very grown up, polished and pretty. However, the wealth of public parks in Savannah really do it for us. It's a highly seductive lifestyle city.  Having spent three nights in both Charleston and Savannah, that is the minimum we would recommend, but it was adequate. If I had my time again, within the same budget, I would probably add in one night in Beaufort, in-between these two big cities, just to take the heat off, on a whole lot of levels.

This afternoon my loved ones wanted to go to the beach, so we asked around and found out where the locals go. We were told North Beach of Tybee Island, 40 minutes away. Today it was 26 degrees in the water, apparently. Me? I spent my time on a wooden beach swing, and after half an hour there in the bold sun, I went to a communal wooden rotunda for a short while, and then finally found myself some privacy in the shade on the verandah of a coastal heritage museum called 'Summer Cottage', where I could peruse Architectural digest without glare.

After that, we went to a rough edged place called the 'Crab Shack', which my loved ones enjoyed immensely. Reminded me of Australia's Top End. Not quite my scene, but it was memorable, and I was there for them. It's such a relaxed place overall, I really didn't mind the side trip.