I Love New York

Working our way back home after five weeks on the road, and Terry feeling more like himself, was an excuse to spend two nights at our favorite hotel in NYC - The Roosevelt. I love the ambiance of this jewel which dates back almost 90 years. It also brings back memories of my parents who brought my sister and me there when Guy Lombardo and his orchestra played at the Roosevelt Grill. How grown up we felt sitting at an elegant table. Of course, when my sister learned that they did not offer peanut butter, she ordered a hamburger - on the menu as chopped sirloin!

We took advantage of the Madison Lounge just off the lobby. Lovely cocktails and nice menu of small bites. After a day out, we sat in our cozy chairs and I ordered a chocolate martini. Our waiter's response was, "Oh, really"? What? Am I under-age? That was the only lapse of decorum at the Roosevelt!

A stay in the city also gave us the chance to catch up with two of our favorite New Yorkers, Mike and Jess. We had lunch at the restaurant at Tommy Bahamas. Yes, they actually do have a dining room there. On the recommendation of Jessica, who certainly knows her way around NYC eating establishments,  I had some great fish tacos. Nice meal and even nicer company. Love my son and daughter-in-law. 

Now what would a weekend in the city be without a parade? And since this was October 12th, the city accommodated with the annual Columbus Parade which was lining up right near our hotel. We chose to view the pre-parade and got a look at many of the marchers as they assembled - sort of an inside peek. Crowds were big  and streets were blocked off - just a typical weekend in NYC.

One of my favorite morning traditions is the Today Show. Terry and I went down in the morning, a little later than the die-hard fans, but close enough to get a pretty good spot. Cee Lo Green was the guest. Matt and Al weren't there and we weren't standing at a good vantage point for photos, but I got some that were at least passable. 

Not far from The Roosevelt is a small oasis. Located behind the New York Public Library, Bryant Park hosts a conglomeration of people walking, reading, sunning, sleeping, juggling, eating - all in a space much smaller than Central Park. There's something charming and familiar about Bryant Park. Young and old, the well-to-do and the financially challenged share this green space on a beautiful fall afternoon. This is quintessential New York and I still feel at home here. I don't think I could live full-time in the city again, but I do love to visit and "hang out". So fortunate to have my children there as a good excuse to make the trip.


Another landmark close by is the magnificent Grand Central Station which happens to be celebrating its centennial this year. What is fascinating about this rail hub is that it is so much more than just a train station. You find shops, restaurants, the annex of the Transit Museum and, of course, the fabulous ceiling in its Main Concourse. Little known fact: that the world's largest Tiffany clock is housed there as well. It is interesting to people-watch - the seasoned New York commuter, the awe-struck tourist, the nonchalant browser and those who appear to be there as part of their habitat - all provide a fascinating study. Right across the street is the famous Pershing Square restaurant where we dined on some exquisite pancakes - long lines, but worth the wait.

Could not leave the city without taking in a Broadway show, so we got tickets (over-priced) through the concierge to see Newsies. Although our seats were not what we expected - a little higher and tighter - this was a really good, energetic musical based on the plight of the news boys back in 1899. Dancing was great. Fun night.

Three days and two nights in the Big Apple at the end of our long road trip was a nice way to end the adventure. One more stop on the west side before we head home.

Sisters

The stop in New Jersey gave me an opportunity to check in with my sister and brother-in-law, Jeanne and Frank; meet up with my nephew and his wife, Steve and Sarita; and a chance for Terry to crash as he was still clearly not feeling himself.

My sister is the one person on earth that I have been linked to my whole life (well, since I was four years old - when she was born). We are alike in many respects, but different enough to make it interesting. As children, the four-year age difference separated us in our socializing; that difference evaporated in adulthood. Thanks to the benefits of electronic and social media, Jeanne & I are in contact just about every day (email, texting, Facebook, oh, and the phone!). There's not much in life that we can't share with one another, and we relish the fact that we are there for each other, no matter what. My sister is loving, honest, and caring. We are the best of friends and I thank God for her everyday.

The Heyer family (my maiden name) is small and we are geographically dispersed. Neither Jeanne nor I have our children living close by; there are no Sunday dinners where family gathers around the table. It takes planning and coordinating schedules to find a date on busy calendars that works for visits. Well, that applies to me. For the last 3 years my sister was separated from her son by the Atlantic Ocean, as he and his wife lived in Liverpool. Two trips to England wasn't quite what she would have preferred. Now, Steve and Sarita are back, but only for 6 weeks. They are heading in the opposite direction this time, to New Mexico. At least they are state-side. My layover in September was a chance to spend time with my nephew, catch up, give him a hug and wish him well. It was also time with Jeanne - to be there with her as she prepares for another time to see Steve and Sarita off once again.

Although this visit did not see the entire family share a meal together, our very own and favorite chef, Frank, provided a great Italian dinner (his homemade sauce!) for the five of us who made it to Gordon Avenue. Salute!

Carry Me Back to Old Virginny

It was October 9th when we headed to Virginia. Fifteen years ago this past April, we spent our honeymoon there.Now we are back, beginning another chapter in our lives. The reality of retirement hasn't settled in yet, since this trip seems more like a vacation than a life-change. With that said, I am happy to be back in Virginia on a rainy fall day - it's for lovers, you know.

Our first stop had been on Terry's bucket list for a long time - The Mariner's Museum which houses the exhibit of the Civil War Iron-clad ship, The Monitor. We made a quick tour of the museum, arriving only two hours before closing. It is a most impressive place containing artifacts covering the whole history of man's life on the water and way too much to see in two hours. Seeing the Monitor's recovered turret was the highlight of our visit.- an amazing feat to have recovered this relic of the Civil War.
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We checked in to our hotel, the SpringHill Suites in Williamsburg, (The absolute best rates of the entire trip.) Because Terry was feeling under the weather and getting tired of packing and unpacking, we extended our stay from two to three nights. (Good choice.) While in this place that is so immersed in history, we of course visited Colonial Williamsburg. But what I consider the highlight of the "Colonial" experience, was a wonderful candlelight organ and harpsichord recital at the Bruton Parish Church. This parish, the first Anglican church,  was begun in 1660! The building now standing is the third iteration of a structure erected in 1715. Among its worshipers were the likes of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Patrick Henry. I must say, that I stood for a moment, taking in the fact that I was sitting in those same pews once occupied by these renown figures. And then there was the music - a beautiful hour spent listening to a remarkable concert performed by Rebecca Davy, the Musical Director and Organist. It was a most memorable evening.

Our visit to Yorktown was abbreviated because of two things: Terry's not feeling well and the Government Shutdown. This was now the second time our plans were affected by the shutdown - a disappointment, to be sure. Yorktown is another area so rich in history and meaning, it makes one stop and ponder where we came from and appreciate those that created this country of ours.

We made our way back from Yorktown to Williamsburg along the Colonial Parkway, a short, peaceful trip with periodic signs along the way preventing travelers from pulling off to enjoy scenic spots because of - The Government Shutdown, of course.

The stay in Williamsburg did not go as we planned with Terry's not feeling well. However, it did give us a chance to re-group and take some time to catch our breath. It also gave me time to reflect on the abundance of  treasures we have from our past and on the lengths we go as people to preserve these. Hopefully, they serve as an explanation of where we came from and a guide for where we are going.

We left for New Jersey on the 12th of October, my turn behind the wheel - the whole way. Next stop the Haggertys and Steve & Sarita. We began in the rain and ended in the sunshine - not a bad drive.

Getting to Savannah

A little out of sequence, but I had to include a description of the drive leading from N'Orleans to Savannah, a distance of almost 700 miles.We headed out on the fifth of October going east along Interstate 10. This part of our Fall Adventure took us through Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama and Florida before we stopped for the night in Madison FL. We could not get reservations anywhere else in northern Florida - football weekend!

Lake Pontchartrain

If I thought crossing the Atchafalaya Basin was an impressive ride, the trip out of New Orleans over Lake Pontchartrain Causeway was, as they say, "something else". I remember the references to this lake during Hurricane Katrina, but seeing it up close gave me a better understanding of the magnitude of this body of water. The bridge crossing Lake Pontchartrain spans over 23 miles, making it the longest bridge over water (continuous) in the world. And...I'll vouch for that. What an experience - it feels like crossing an ocean.(OK, slight exaggeration.)

Blue Angels

Triangle Peg Game
 at Crackerbarrel

The trip along I-10  was accompanied by intermittent showers, but was uneventful overall. We crossed Mobile Bay on, yet again, another long twin-bridge crossing. (Starting to get used to these.) From the road, we saw the USS Alabama in Mobile and got a glimpse of  the home of the Blue Angels in Pensacola. But there was no stopping to sight-see. A more mundane experience was our stop for lunch at the Crackerbarrel in Crestview, Floriada where Terry played the Triangle Peg Game. (I think he cheated.) It had been decades since doing the Crackerbarrel thing, and it was all that I remembered - a little bit of everything.

We arrived in Madison, Florida for a night at the Days Inn which was right next door to a Denny's - built-in dinner and breakfast destinations. Not too much else around Madison. However, true to much of the South, there was a DQ not far away . By the way, the South loves DQ; they are all over!

Next morning we traveled a short distance east and then turned left - heading north!

The Charm of a Southern City

Cobblestone streets, horse-drawn carriages, moss-draped live oaks, magnolias - this was our introduction to Savannah on the 6th of October. Savannah is graced with a quintessential Southern charm. It is unspoiled by high-rise buildings and over-commercialization. It is one of the few Southern cities left intact during the Civil War since it was spared the ravaging that so many endured. Among its beauties are the 22 Squares that define its historic neighborhoods and provide beauty and respite for its residents and visitors. These squares, built in the 18th and 19th centuries are truly works of art. Some include impressive monuments and fountains; others include areas for music or play. It cannot be overstated how iconic these oases are. We got a great overview of the Squares and the vibrant Riverfront during our trolley tour on our first afternoon. Our guide pointed out many spots that we put on our "to do" list when returning on our own.

The Marshall House

Adding to the charm of our stay in Savannah was The Marshall House, our place-to-stay for two nights. (Needed much more time to do justice to our visit.) The ambiance, service and amenities were outstanding - not to mention the complimentary breakfast in the solarium and the wine and cheese at 5:30 in the "living room."  During one of the cocktail hours, we met a couple from Oregon, Mark and Nancy Blevin. He, a retired judge and she, a retired teacher, were traveling in the South and shared stories of previous trips in the US and Europe. (We exchanged phone and address info. I wonder if either of us will follow-up.)

We decided to have dinner at The Olde Pink House, having heard about it during our tour and from hotel staff. What a lovely restaurant! A cozy table, a "Pink Lady", and a first time for collards added to a wonderful dining experience - not to mention my dinner companion. We ended the evening downstairs at the Tavern Bar - a glass of wine and a guy at the piano provided just the right atmosphere.

The Mercer-Williams House

During our full day in Savannah, we walked to City Market, a collection of galleries, eateries and retail shops. Next on the agenda was a tour of the Mercer-Williams House, subject of the Book, Midnight in the Garden of Good & Evil. This was a fascinating peek into the story of the murder that took place in that home. One of our final events of the day was a couple's massage at a local spa. It was just what we needed The travel, packing and unpacking, some long days began to take a toll, especially on the driver. 

Before leaving Savannah on the 8th, we stopped at the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist which is undergoing exterior restoration. This church is by far the most beautiful we had see on our travels. Fortunately, there were parishioner/guides to provide information about this historic structure. It is rather ironic that, early in its history, Georgia did not want Catholics or Jews in the colony, and here is this magnificent edifice reflecting the faith of its Catholic population.

Leaving on the Talmadge Bridge

If I were to choose a city from our Fall Adventure to re-visit, Savannah would be at the top of the list. Its warmth, its history, its people would all invite me back.

WWII in New Orleans

C-47 on display at the Museum

When I think of New Orleans, certain things come to mind: the French Quarter, Bourbon Street, Jazz, Katrina, good food. A museum dedicated to World War II would not have been one of them. But there it was, the National World War II Museum. (Fortunately, it is privately funded and not affected by the darn Government Shutdown.) We visited this collection of extraordinary exhibits covering all aspects of the Second World War. It tells the story of the price of freedom for generations to come. The artifacts and visual timelines are fascinating. Included also is the powerful 4-D movie "Beyond All Boundaries", narrated by Tom Hanks, which is a riveting account of the of the battles of WWII. The museum pays special homage to veteran's in many of its programs. It has a great gift shop and a canteen featuring music from the era. This certainly is worth at least a two - three hour visit.

The Big Easy

Our entry into New Orleans was greeted by a rainbow in the sky. Knowing that Tropical Storm Karen was looming somewhere in the Gulf, I took that as a good sign. As we came closer to the city, I was struck by the skyline, by the number of tall buildings and by the very corporate presence along its avenues. Perhaps I was naive in thinking that the Big Easy would be more low-keyed. However, it did not take long to find the charm and intrigue that is this city.

We have been to Broadway in Nashville, Beale Street in Memphis, 6th Street in Austin, and now Bourbon Street in New Orleans. They all resonate with great music and each lays claim to an edgy vibe. Their streets are filled with people celebrating (Celebrating may be an understatement for many.)  If a vote were taken, I would give Bourbon Street first place for revelry. Unlike Beale Street, Bourbon has almost no visible police presence and the venues are a lot racier. Some friends and family members kept texting us to watch our belongings, to be careful, to stay safe. I started to feel like the college freshman being warned of the dangers of the big bad world. (I must confess that it is a good idea to be cautious on Bourbon Street.)

Happy to report that we survived Bourbon Street. In fact, on that very street, we had a fabulous dinner at Red Fish - where Terry claims he had the best crab cake he ever ate. We heard some terrific music at Musical Legends Park. Returning the following night (yes, we did return) we stopped into Maison Bourbon, one of the oldest jazz venues, and once again heard some fabulous music.

Our Guide Randy

Wanting to see as much of New Orleans as we could, we took a Hop On/Hop Off tour - directed by our colorful guide, Randy. Randy was born and raised in New Orleans and gave us an insider's view of his city. He taught us phrases used to hide a verbal slight. As in, "She is dressed all wrong, bless her heart; she can't help it." He mentioned that New Orleanians do not have a Southern Accent, but sound something like New Yorkers. Randy spoke of the little-known influence that German settlers had on New Orleans. He instructed us on the difference between Creole and Cajun. Creoles are the descendants of the original colonial settlers.Cajuns are the descendants of those French speaking refugees who were resettled by the British from Acadia. Randy had so much information to impart, I was afraid there would be a quiz at the end of the tour.

St. Louis Cathedral

We, of course, spent time in the rest of the French Quarter: visited St. Louis Cathedral (oldest cathedral in North America); strolled among the sidewalk artists (bought some gyclees); had beignets and cafe au lait; and admired the rows of filigree-enhanced homes. Unfortunately, our beignets were not from Cafe du Monde. (It was 90 degrees and the line was a mile long.) I also missed a Banana Foster and a Muffaletta - so little time - next trip.

We capped off our New Orleans experience by following a suggestion from a local shop keeper about a place for dinner with one night left: Muriel's. And what great advice it was. The meal was wonderful, the atmosphere was lovely and the service was very good (even though Carey, our server was a bit of a diva). It was the perfect choice to close out our trip to the Crescent City.

Louisiana - Bridges and Bayous

Traveling from Texas to Louisiana introduced us to bayous. Merriam-Webster Online defines bayou as: "an area of water in the southern U.S. in which the water moves very slowly and is filled with many plants". Terry insisted on calling them "swamps." He even did so to the lovely ladies at the Iberville Visitor Center who politely did not take offense, but gave us a topography lesson about the Atchafalaya  Basin and the bayous of Louisiana.(To be perfectly honest, some Louisiana reference material does use the "s" word to describe the bayou as well.) 

The way you cross the Atchafalaya Basin is over the Atchafalaya Basin Bridge which carries Interstate 10 over its length. Now, this is not any ordinary old bridge. It consists of two parallel bridges that have a length of over 18 miles, making it the fourteenth longest bridge in the world. It is an engineering phenomenon. The roadway of the bridge is very high; in fact, we rode on a surface that is in line with the tops of trees! Between the two parallel bridges carrying traffic in opposite directions is the water of the basin. For those who cannot picture it, I found  this photo online to show what it looks like, since I could not get a camera angle to get the full effect - which would be from below.

Atchafalaya Basin Bridge - can we say "Yikes!"? (photo from www.gypsynester.com)

The mighty, muddy Mississippi crosses through this state where you can find many, many lakes, basins, marshes and rivers. You don't have to travel far to encounter one. So, we found leaving the state as much a water story as entering. Lake Pontchartrain covers 630 square miles and we had to cross it on the Pontchartrain Causeway - another parallel set of bridges, this time over 24 miles long, making it the longest bridge over water in the world. If I thought Atchafalaya was a challenge, this was going to be an ever bigger test of will. When I saw the approaching span, no lie, I was more than grateful that I was the passenger and that T was the driver. He handled it like a pro. I think I may have frozen; I just kept looking ahead and praying. No trees on either side this time, only wide open water. I soon determined that the GW Bridge is a walk (or drive) in the park. Onward!

My photos of Lake Pontchartrain and the Causeway as we were driving. (Remember, I was the passenger.)

Texas Footnotes

Some thoughts upon leaving Texas after ten days:

• Texas is big, bold and diverse. Wichita Falls and Galveston could not be more different and then there is everything in between.

• There is a slower pace in their socializing, but Texans drive very FAST.

• In some areas of Texas the highway system is like interconnecting roller coasters - not for the faint of heart.

• There is no "Texan" accent - it's as diverse as its population. But they do all say "y'all" and use "sir" and ma'am" when addressing you. (And that is true all over the South.)

• There is a large German influence in Texas. I had no idea. Apparently, by the mid-nineteenth century they constituted the largest ethnic European group in Texas. They rank third after Hispanics as an ethnic group. Towns with names like Bergheim, Boerne, Fredricksburg, Gruene, New Braunfels, Schulenburg all give evidence of their German settlers. (We visited New Braunfels and had the best pastries in Naegelin's German Bakery.)

• I loved our time in Texas and again am grateful that Frankie & Jess's wedding brought us there.

Tall Texas Highways

Naegelin's Bakery, New Braunfels - Oldest Bakery in Texas - 1868!

I still hear your sea winds blowing...Oh, Galveston...

A room overlooking the Gulf of Mexico, a walk along the beach, a dinner at sunset on the upper deck of a place called Fish Tales - this was our introduction to Galveston Island. Galveston is unique in that it is part southern, part western and unlike most of the rest of Texas. When a city survives being burned by one of its early European settlers, the pirate John Lafitte; devastating hurricanes (They actually raised the level of the city after the 1900 storm.); and years of economic downturn, it emerges stronger when committed to recovery and re-discovery. That is Galveston. 

Not the ferry!

The ferry!

I was surprised at the size of the island - 32 miles long and 2 1/2 miles wide. Apparently, the residents are fairly self-sufficient and don't see much need to go to the mainland, happy with being just where they are.  But we had to leave the island to continue our fall adventure and we found a relaxing and scenic way to do it...the ferry to Port Bolivar. These ferries run every 20- 30 minutes, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. We did have to stop and be inspected for security. I guess we looked harmless and escaped having to remove the contents of our car which must have appeared to contain all our worldly possessions. And, we never had to take off our shoes. We then boarded the ferry and decided that it is the most pleasant way to make the 2.7 mile trip across Galveston Bay. We did it in about 18 minutes. And guess what - it is free!

We were greeted at Port Bolivar by a group of Pelicans perched on the dock. (Nice touch) The ride through Bolivar Peninsular was along a two-lane highway traversing quiet beach towns, some farms and the occasional field with oil pumps. Prominent were the homes, everyone elevated on stilts - some two stories high - sure evidence of flood preparedness. The drive was a slower pace than the interstate and was such a welcomed change, especially for the chief driver - Terry.

And so we were on our way to New Orleans - Laissez les bons temps rouler!

San Antonio

Picture a river walk below street level, lined with cypress trees, lush with plant life, adorned with arched bridges and filled with romance. Imagine river cruisers carrying happy passengers along this waterway whose walkways link shops, restaurants and cafes. Well, this is San Antonio, the twelfth stop on our Fall Adventure - and by far, one of the most enchanting spots we have visited. It is truly a blend of cultures. As mentioned in the Visit San Antonio website, "Native Americans, Colonial Spain, the Canary Islands, Old Mexico, Germans, the Wild West, and the Deep South cross paths in San Antonio." Everywhere we went we saw evidence of all that richness. 

Mission San Juan

Cathedral of San Fernando

Once again, so much to take in and with just three days to do it in. Setting priorities is important when you are limited by time. When the heat hovers around 95, those priorities and any itinerary has to be flexible. Add to that a government shut-down affecting the National Park System. So, be prepared to be unable to visit certain destinations and to share that disappointment with scores of other tourists who express their displeasure, if not their politics.One of the plans our party of four had made was to see all four of the missions on the Mission Trail. Unfortunately, we could not enter them because of the previously mentioned government shutdown. We were relegated to photographing the exterior as close as we could get.  However, at one of the missions, someone left a chapel door open and we were able to get a look inside(sneak in, that is); it was truly beautiful. Even with limited access, I learned what a vital role these missions played in the life of the early settlements in Texas and what place the Catholic church played in it. The remnants of that influence exist even to this day. Note the Cathedral of San Fernando, seat of a diocese with 139 parishes.

We were able to tour The Alamo, originally known as Mission San Antonio De Valero. (It is not part of the National Park System.) What an experience - to be standing in that spot where part of the Texas Rebellion took place and where, in the last siege,  the defenders of the Alamo were slaughtered. I recall growing up reading about the West and loving Western movies - hearing the phrase, "Remember the Alamo". Well, now I have witnessed, first-hand, how the San Antonions do remember and have such a deep reverence for those brave soldiers who included Tejanos and Anglo-Texians as well as men from many states and Europe. (There was even one soldier from Connecticut -56 year-old Gordon Jennings.) 

On the more mundane gastronomic side, San Antonio has such a plethora of dining choices. Our restaurant experiences included everything from the exquisite Biga to the Iron Cactus on the River Walk, to great pizza at Paisano's to the tried and true at the Hard Rock. We sipped drinks at the Esquire, the longest wooden bar in Texas, went to Waxy O'Connor's for an Irish Coffee (San Antonio isn't all Tex-Mex.) and enjoyed a brew at the Faust Hotel in nearby New Braunfels. Life is good. (People seem to say that as a punctuation to a positive experience. Ergo...)  

In the realm of the totally unexpected and a truly OMG moment: having breakfast at our hotel and a tap on the shoulder. I look up and see before me a dear friend, Tina, whom I have not seen in almost five years! As we are hugging hello (in complete surprise) her husband Dick joined the greetings. It wasn't long ago that I said to Terry we should get together with Dick & Tina; it's been too long. Never thought it would be in San Antonio, Texas. The term "small world" comes to mind.

Before leaving San Antonio, we accompanied my brother-in-law Frank to Lackland Air Force Base; his last time there was in the late 60's during his training as an airman. This was a nostalgic trip for him and we were glad to be part of it. Despite the fact that he could only get as far as the front gate, he was a man filled with emotion, reflecting on that time prior to his deployment to Vietnam.

Our final stop on the way out of town was to Penners, a wonderful clothing store in existence since 1916. Assisted by David, a salesman there for 50 years, (Who works anywhere for 50 years these days?) Terry received a mini wardrobe makeover. He was even willing to give up wearing his American Pickers T-shirt! I couldn't resist a purchase myself, who could at this store? The place is a throwback to an era when service and style went hand-in-hand. And...they have a website to be able to order online!

We left San Antonio happy to have spent time in this vibrant city. Gracias. Adios.