Tag: Airbnb

Travel

Montreal Travel Journal

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

Bonjour / hello, friends! We returned from a long weekend trip to Montreal on Monday and I’ve really got to hand it to Canada again; the country’s just been a wonderful place to visit every time we’ve gone. We have enjoyed every trip up to our neighbor to the north and will definitely be heading back sometime soon for another little adventure that we’ve got planned.

Our drive from New Jersey to Montreal took just under seven hours, not counting a stop to refill on gas and eat some dinner that we brought along from home (Anybody else find PB&J sandwiches to be a great road trip treat?).

As we approached Samuel De Champlain bridge, the blue glow from the bridge’s up-lighting guided us across the St. Lawrence River and into the sparkling city. We navigated some road work to reach our Airbnb which was situated in a duplex on the edge of downtown, nestled in between Chinatown and Old Montreal. Our travel companions for this trip, Mike’s brother and sister, had arrived a few hours before us and so we called them and asked them to open the front door as we unloaded our stuff from the car. Somehow, though we know how to travel light for flights, car travel is a different story. We (I) have a tendency to look like we’re (I’m) moving. I know I’m not alone in this practice, so I feel no shame in it.

After moving in, we went off in search of parking as our Airbnb only came with one included parking space, which I told Mike’s sister to take. While researching for our trip, I did a Reddit deep dive on parking safety in Montreal and was surprised to find that car theft seems to be a significant cause for concern in certain sections of the city. Per the Reddit angels’ advice, we opted to park in an Indigo underground parking garage a few blocks away from our Airbnb, where we wouldn’t have to move or worry about our car. It came at a steeper price tag than I had hoped, $38 CAD/day, but peace of mind is worth a lot to me, especially while travelling. Besides, that price is actually much cheaper than what you’d pay for surveilled parking in New York.

We climbed the widely-spaced wooden steps up to the front door of the apartment and I imagined what doing so would be like in the snow and ice, thinking it could only be treacherous. Inside, the Airbnb was bright, clean, and inviting. We got settled in and went to sleep, tired from the long drive and eager to be ready for an early start the next morning.

Day 1: Mile End & Mount Royal Park

My plan for our first full day in Montreal was to sample Montreal’s staple culinary offerings: bagels, smoked meat sandwiches, and poutine. The rest of the group got on board with this plan and we headed off toward the Mile End neighborhood to get started.

The walk to Mile End from the Chinatown area was long, but it was fun to get a better feel for the city by taking it slow. There’s no better way to do that in my opinion than by walking. Our walk to Mile End took us past Chinatown and through Le Plateau-Mont-Royal. We strolled St. Laurent Boulevard, taking in what I thought of as “urban cozy”. St. Laurent Boulevard was reminiscent of South 2nd Street in Philly and Ventura Boulevard in Los Angeles for me. I am always fascinated to find a sense of familiarity in a place that is entirely new to me.

Montreal’s artistic identity shone through in large, colorful murals that adorned the sides of buildings along our route. The art had life to it, a funk and swagger that would have fit right in in Asheville, NC. I’m smiling thinking about it. Montreal had an undeniable personality, like any city worth its salt does.

According to this Youtube video that I watched in my research for this trip, “When it comes to bagels in Montreal, there’s actually two institutions. There’s not three. There’s not one. There’s two… There’s Fairmount Street with Fairmount Bagel and there’s St. Viateur Street with St. Viateur Bagel. Which one is better? That’s a pretty heated debate.”

Having lived in Brooklyn, I am no stranger to good bagels. New York bagels are boiled and baked, similar to Montreal-style bagels, but New York bagels are larger-than-life bread monstrosities, whereas Montreal bagels are not. In my opinion, a good New York bagel is approximately the size of your face with a bad bee sting reaction and has a slightly crispy outer crust with a fluffy, doughy inside that has a little stretch to it when eaten fresh out of the oven. New York bagels lean neither sweet nor savory. Montreal bagels are different. I will not partake in the debate of whether New York or Montreal bagels are better, because for me, they are too different to compare in that regard and both hold their own ground, so to speak, in their own ways.

Montreal bagels are smaller, more manageable sized bread rings than the New York variety. They are boiled and baked, not in just any old oven, but in a wood oven. The traditional style comes coated with sesame seeds, which adds both texture and flavor to the finished product. To my palate, Montreal bagels are slightly sweeter than New York bagels. They still have that crispy outer crust which acts as a great partner to the doughy inside without being overwhelmed by it.

We tried Fairmount Bagel and then St. Viateur bagel. I had read that Fairmount Bagel’s bagels were on the more dense side and I was expecting to prefer St. Viateur’s bagels. I was surprised to find that I actually preferred the Fairmount bagel, noting a slightly more pronounced sweetness in them than in the St. Viateur bagel. Don’t get me wrong, both were delicious and worth trying. If you find yourself in Montreal, get both and be sure to bring some cash along with you for these two cash-only establishments.

In want of somewhere to sit down after our long walk to Mile-End, we strolled through a residential neighborhood that reminded me of a mixture of South Williamsburg in Brooklyn and Savannah, GA, towards Parc Outremont. The park was a pretty oasis tucked into the sprawl of the city and had public restrooms and a plethora of benches overlooking a serene pond. We spent a good little chunk of time there, resting our legs and feet to prepare ourselves for even more walking for the next step in our day’s adventure.

We picked up some light picnic fare on our way over to Mount Royal Park and began the climb up to the Mount Royal Chalet and Kondiaronk Belvedere, which promised excellent views of the city. We wound through the pretty woods of the Olmsted Trail on our way to the “Grand Staircase”. In French, “grand” means big and trust me, this staircase was “grand” indeed. We climbed and climbed and climbed and reached the top of the stairs and climbed some more until Olmsted Trail led us out onto the terrace of the Chalet.

We enjoyed our little picnic in the shelter of the Chalet. Inside, the Chalet had a rustic, lodge feel to it, with many heaters bordering the walls and a large fireplace in the center of the back wall. I imagine it would be a very cozy respite from the cold for outdoor enthusiasts and visitors in winter. The Chalet also has convenience amenities like a café and public restrooms and water fountains, located downstairs. After our little picnic, we headed out onto the terrace to check out the view.

Whenever we visit somewhere, I like to look up places to take in the view of the city. For Montreal, the Chalet at Mount Royal was said to be one of the best viewing opportunities and I can see why now. Obstructed only by a few high-reaching branches and other spectators, the view of the city is excellent and expansive.

View acquired and tired as hell, we made our way back down the grand staircase and through Le Plateau-Mont-Royal and downtown, deciding to delay the next two stops on our barely-begun food tour until dinner. We passed by Schwartz’s Deli along the way and even got in line, thinking we might order a smoked meat sandwich to go, but we abandoned that idea pretty quickly after assessing the length of the line, ready to be off our feet.

Later in the evening, we ordered a Schwartz’s smoked meat combo that came with rye bread, pickles, and slaw to make our own smoked meat sandwiches and had it delivered to our Airbnb, along with some poutine from Frite Alors! The smoked meat from Schwartz’s reminded me of the “mile-high” pastrami sandwiches from Katz’s Delicatessen in New York. The meat had a salty tang and peppery crust and just melted in your mouth with each bite. So good! From Frite Alors! we ordered a regular poutine as well as “La Tunisienne” which had lamb merguez and onions in addition to the regular fries, cheese curds, and gravy. Both were excellent. With full bellies, our self-guided Montreal food tour for the day was complete.

Day 2: Old Montreal

Okay; I’m ready to go back to Old Montreal already! Old Montreal was like a smaller version of Old Quebec, in my opinion. The charming stone facades of the old buildings, some dating as far back as the 17th century, were dotted with storefronts, shop windows, and restaurants that curated a very inviting atmosphere for tourists like us. While it’s probably not the place to go to get the most local experience, we were not locals, and we shamelessly enjoyed the experience of strolling Rue Saint-Paul.

After perusing the cozy street’s offerings and visiting the plaza outside Notre-Dame Basilica, we were ready for some brunch. We opted to go to Maggie Oakes and sat outside, taking in the lively ambiance and live music of Place Jacques Cartier. I ordered a traditional breakfast platter of scrambled eggs, ham, potatoes, and toast and a Boréale Blonde to go with it. The food was delicious and the beer took me back to memories of sitting at the bar at Q-de-Sac Resto de quartier in Old Quebec.

We headed back to our Airbnb, stopping to admire the impressive City Hall building on our way. After a nice, generous break to play some boardgames and take advantage of some much needed down-time after the previous day’s walking extravaganza, we headed back out for dinner at Jacopo, off of Place Jacques Cartier.

Inside, the restaurant was cozy and dark with exposed stonework and low lighting. The Italian menu had something to please everyone in our group and even made for some tough decisions when it came to deciding what to order. I opted for the Ragù a l’Agnello which was a dish with fresh pappardelle, braised lamb, and a flavorful tomato based butter sauce. Anybody else hungry?

After dinner, we brought our leftovers to the Airbnb and headed right back out to see Rue Saint Paul at night and seek out some dessert. A street performer danced to Volare in Place Jacques Cartier as we made our way down the gentle incline, beckoned by the glow of the lanterns affixed to the stone walls of the buildings flanking the street.

We walked past the shops and around the corner to Café Olimpico where we bought a Nutella horn, pistachio chocolat, and some pistachio gelato to share and devoured them immediately in the street, to our tastebuds’ content. We strolled a little more along the glowing Rue Saint Paul and past a statue of three gossipers tucked away in a corner, before heading back to our Airbnb to call it a night.

While we didn’t get to wandering around McGill University’s picturesque campus or the Olympic Stadium on this trip, I think we did just enough to get a taste of the city without trying to pack too much in to our short visit there. I imagine we’ll be back someday and can work around those unseen things then, but in the meantime, the travel bug in me is satisfied.

On our way home, I pumped gas for the very first time (New Jersey is currently the only US state where it is illegal for drivers to pump their own gas) and we stopped in Saratoga Springs, NY for some lunch and a brew at Druthers Brewing before perusing my favorite bookstore, Northshire Books, to stock up on some cards for upcoming birthdays and weddings. With our little Saratoga excursion and my new skill acquired, our trip felt complete, and we continued on home with fresh memories of Montreal in our heads and future travel plans and new experiences on the horizon, awaiting us.

Puerto Rico Travel Journal
Travel

Puerto Rico Travel Journal

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

We were greeted by ominous clouds upon landing at Newark Airport yesterday afternoon, a drastic change from our view upon waking up in Fajardo, Puerto Rico- turquoise water stretching from Puerto Chico out to Cayo Icacos, where we had walked in the sand just the morning before. It was a treat to swap the chill of New Jersey in February for the warm sunshine and breezes of Puerto Rico, even if only for a few days.

San Juan

We landed in Carolina on Thursday and drove to Old San Juan to take in the colors and the history of the city and its fortresses. Some of the streets in Old San Juan are narrow, cobbled, and steep. We parked with relief in a lot down by the port on the south side of Old San Juan and went in search of lunch. I had done some research beforehand on a few restaurant options, but found opening hours to be varied and inconsistent with my research. We stopped in at Café El Punto for a snack of some mariquitas de platano con guacamole and café frio. Both were delicious, but I was itching to get back outside to explore. I knew heading to Puerto Rico that restaurant service runs on “island time”, a slowed down version of regular time, and so it took a little while to actually get back outside.

The sun was hot and the breeze-warm as we headed up the hill along the winding streets, in the direction of Castillo San Felipe del Morro, perhaps better known simply as El Morro. The fort is perched overlooking the ocean and the Bay of San Juan in the northwesternmost tip of the island of Old San Juan. An expansive stretch of inviting green grass and blue sky welcomed us as we neared the fort.

It felt a little surreal to see the US National Parks emblem on the sign for El Morro, being on an island in the Caribbean, 1000 miles from the mainland. Puerto Rico, though a United States Territory, retains a unique charm and culture, not to mention a long-spanning history that is very unique to the island and very distinct from the influence of US mainland culture.

Inside the fortress’ thick, stone walls, tourists snapped photos and wove in, out, and through, from chamber to chamber, taking in the history of one of the most attacked fortresses in history due to San Juan’s attractive and strategic harbor location in the Caribbean. The walls were built to resist cannon fire and the fort developed a reputation for being unconquerable after evading invasion attempts by the English, Dutch, and British from the 16th to the 18th century. The fort fell to the hands of the Americans during the Spanish American War, ultimately succumbing due to updated capabilities of naval weaponry. El Morro was also used in later years as a US military base during WWI and WWII.

Nowadays, the fort is the perfect spot to take in the view of the turquoise and cerulean Atlantic waters crashing into white froth on the rocks below. Exhibits within the fort’s stone walls provide insight into what life was like for the Spanish soldiers stationed there in the 1700s and it was interesting to read about the history and wander the sunny plaza, sentry boxes (garitas), dim passageways, arched chambers, and original structures, one of which dated back to 1539.

From El Morro, we walked east along the waterfront, on the outskirts of La Perla. We stuck to the road with Castillo San Cristobal in our sights as our entry fee to El Morro included entry to the other fort as well. Castillo San Cristobal was less crowded and felt a little smaller than El Morro. It was here where we first encountered some island wildlife- a couple of iguanas, one cooling itself in the shade between the battlements and one basking in the sunshine.

With tired legs and the beginning aches of sunburn, we decided to head somewhere for lunch and a cold drink. We opted for St. Germain Bistro & Café. The island time was real at this restaurant, let me tell you my friends, and it took a looong time to even be acknowledged by the wait staff, let alone to get our drinks and food. More than one couple got up and left between our seating and when we paid our check due to the long wait for their order to be taken. The restaurant did not seem so busy and we marveled at the staff’s lack of interest in taking people’s food and drink orders. People leaving just seemed like business as usual, so I guess we were lucky to ultimately be served?

Service aside, my cocktail and our food were both delicious. I ordered a Whiskey Business which was refreshing and tasty and Mike got the locally brewed beer, Medalla. We shared a carrot dip and a refreshing avocado salad and then dug into our main dish which was a bell pepper stuffed with stewed lentils and topped with cheese, accompanied by rice and beans. It was so good and made the long wait feel almost worth it.

With full bellies and rain starting to sprinkle, we went back to the car and settled in for the drive over to the east coast to our Airbnb in Fajardo. As we made our way across the northern side of the island, we spotted advertisements and structures for many familiar restaurant chains. Puerto Rico takes American fast food culture to the next level. If you are a fast food fan living on the mainland, you will find pretty much all of the typical fast food offerings from home if you visit Puerto Rico, along with many additional highway-side local food vendors to choose from.

As we drove across the island, we noticed many dilapidated homes, businesses, and structures and wondered if the properties were abandoned remnants from the devastation caused by Hurricane Maria back in 2017. My memory of the island will likely be equal parts paradise and devastation as it was evident how much of a permanent toll the hurricane’s destruction took on the island and its residents.

Fajardo

We arrived at our Airbnb in Fajardo, a condo on an upper floor of an apartment building that overlooked Puerto Chico. The view was breathtaking and brought us quickly back to a state of paradise.

Vieques

Fajardo proved to be an excellent location for our adventurous itinerary over the next couple of days. We started the day on Friday with a boat tour to the island of Vieques for snorkeling and some relaxing walks on the beach. We made the mistake of sitting on the second level of the boat on the way out of the marina and got walloped with salty spray for the forty-five minute rollicking journey to Vieques, a truly romantic experience to kick off our Valentine’s Day.

The boat ride put all of my fear of snorkeling out of mind until we reached the snorkeling spot, that is. I was a little afraid to get into the open water after one of the other people on our tour asked one of the guides if there would be sharks. “This is the ocean man,” he responded, “There’s anything: treasure, migrants, anything!” So that meant there might be sharks. My mom being a big fan of Jaws, I am not a big fan of swimming with sharks. I wasn’t gonna chicken out though, so I put on my mask, slipped on my flippers and descended into the water.

There’s something that happens when you are living in the moment of a thrilling experience. Fear subsides and intrigue takes over. Once my head was under water, I was fine. There is something so calming in the pressure and the isolation. There is depth and cold and Darth Vader sounds coming from the snorkel, and everything’s ok somehow. I saw a sea turtle laying in the sand and watched for a while hoping it was alive. I came up to get my bearings.

“Want to see a sting ray?” said the guide.

He could have said, Want to see a shark? and my answer would have been the same.

“Yeah!”

The rush of the moment takes over and that’s when the real living starts. It just doesn’t happen often so you have to take advantage of it when it does.

We anchored by Playa Punta Arenas on the northwestern tip of Vieques. The beach was nearly empty except for our group. The sand was gold and backed up to green jungle. The water was turquoise and clear and I could see my feet and a few fish swimming nearby. There was a lunch of sandwiches and pasta salad on the boat and an open rum cocktail bar plentiful with pina coladas. The paradise was really making its mark and the coconut was cool and sweet.

Luquillo

We returned to the main island and headed to Luquillo to peruse the food kiosk offerings there. After walking the length of the kioskos, we decided we’d try La Parilla and Nativa Latin Cuisine. At La Parilla, we each enjoyed a cold Medalla, a beer brewed in Puerto Rico, and ordered a carne frita meal to share. The pork was tender and delicious and the view wasn’t half bad.

At Nativa Latin Cuisine, we had our second island time experience that was worth the wait. We ordered mofongo, a savory delight and Puerto Rican staple made of mashed plantains. Ours came topped with criollo sauce and chicken and let’s just say we crushed the whole thing even though we weren’t hungry after La Parilla. Yum!

Icacos

The next day promised more adventure. We took another snorkeling tour and learned our lesson from the day before. We sat at the front of the boat this time, well into the covered section and stayed dry as the people in the back of the boat and up top got soaked. It shouldn’t feel good, but what can I tell you?

The second snorkeling adventure took us to a reef near the island of Icacos. We saw many more fish on this trip, but no larger creatures. It was cool to swim right up to the reef, although the reef, unfortunately, appeared to have suffered the effects of coral bleaching. After our guides called us back to the boat, we headed closer to the beach in Icacos and swam to shore to walk on the white sand.

Were it not for the crowded, party-like atmosphere at 11:00AM, I think I would have preferred this beach to the beach in Vieques from the day before. Remoteness has its own charms, though, so I’m happy we got to do both. A couple of pina coladas and coconut mojitos later, and it was time to head back to Fajardo.

El Yunque

Our next planned activity was a kayaking tour of the bioluminescent bay, Laguna Grande, later that evening so we had some time to add something else to our plans. We opted to drive out to El Yunque National Forest, the only tropical rainforest in the US. In El Yunque, we made a few brief stops including the Visitor’s Center, a kebob stand for a hasty lunch, La Coca Falls, and Torre Yokahu. If you only have time for one, I suggest Torre Yokahu as it offers impressive 360 degree views of the forest.

Laguna Grande

Ok, so remember the thing about the fear of sharks from earlier in this post and it going out the window due to the thrill of the moment? Well, I also have this thing about the dark. In the pursuit of adventure, fear must be cast aside sometimes and discomfort-embraced. This is what I told myself as we kayaked along the narrow canal through the pitch black mangrove after dark on our way to Laguna Grande, one of only five bioluminescent bays in the world.

We kayaked single file along the canal, guided only by a small red light on the back of each of the kayaks in front of us. We could hear the splash of paddles in the water and the coqui frogs singing in the tangled trees all around us and, somehow, I was not afraid anymore. It was beautiful- a line of dotted red gliding through the water on the way to the lagoon. Real life seems unreal sometimes, I thought.

We arrived at the lagoon and our guides instructed us on how to best view the bioluminescent effect in the water. The bioluminescent effect is a defense mechanism of the dinoflagellate plankton in the water and is activated when the plankton are disturbed by movement. The moon was pretty bright the night of our tour, but we still got to see a sparkling effect when moving our hands and paddles in the water. The tour also provided dark tarps that we covered ourselves with in order to better see the effect. It was magical and strange and probably looked like a weird ritualistic practice to the unknowing eye, but it was worth paddling through the dark to get a glimpse of the sparklers in the water.

After our tour, we changed quickly in the car to make our dinner reservation. Turns out we didn’t need to rush after all, though, as the host decided our reservation was too late in the day and lectured us on how we shouldn’t have made a reservation so late (even though it was available and not even the latest reservation available). They said they would still “help us” and we could stay, but we decided we didn’t need that favor on our last night after the lecture already ruffled our feathers a bit. Instead, we went to the local grocery store, Pueblo, and picked up a bottle of wine and a few things to make a delicious dinner of our own. It ended up being a fun and relaxing way to end our last night in Puerto Rico, so I’m almost happy for the little hiccup.

On our final morning, the usual wind present on our Airbnb’s balcony was still and we enjoyed some leftovers from our homemade meal the night before while sitting outside, soaking up the beautiful view one last time.

I enjoyed our trip, but was happy to head back to the airport and home to New Jersey. Even though the forecast for the evening promised cold and rain, there’s just something so inviting about home after being away. When the wheels touched down in Newark, I heard some passengers on the plane voicing their disappointment as they looked out the window, but I was looking forward to a hearty dinner at one of our favorite local restaurants. Something about getting away makes home more special. It disturbs the regular routine for a while and makes it sparkle brighter, even in the dark.

Travel

Molasses in January: A Savannah Winter Travel Journal

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

When we planned our trip to Savannah, GA for this past weekend, we looked forward to slowing things down and enjoying a winter retreat with warmer weather than we’ve been having at home. We planned on long, brisk, scenic walks through the Hostess City, beneath shaded canopies of live oaks draped in Spanish moss. We didn’t even imagine that the snow from days earlier in the week would have any impact our plans to explore.

Until last week, it hadn’t snowed in Savannah in seven years, according to many of the locals we encountered there. In our Uber ride from the airport to the historic district, we learned that the airport had only re-opened two hours before we landed, after being closed for three days. The streets and sidewalks were frosted with ice and snow, left to crust over, slick and perilous for tourists and local pedestrians determined enough to brave them.

We knew we’d slow things down in Savannah this past weekend, we just didn’t realize how much.

“Little, tiny, baby steps,” said Mike as we shuffled our way from the corner across from Wright Square to the front door of our Airbnb. The street was white and lined with parked cars molded to the curb with solidified snow. We saw people trying to dig out the sidewalks in front of their homes and businesses with metal, pointed-spade, garden shovels and leaf blowers and marveled at the unexpected culture shock of this city in the snow.

I checked my email and learned that our Restaurant Week dinner reservation had been canceled by the restaurant due to the road conditions, but was prepared with some alternatives. We got settled in our Airbnb, a beautiful one-bedroom apartment across from Wright Square and figured out our new plan for the evening.

Once we were settled, we headed out to brave the icy sidewalks in pursuit of cocktails and dinner. Our first stop was Alley Cat Lounge, a speakeasy-style cocktail bar located on a lane between Ellis and Telfair Square. We perused the Alley Cat Rag, a newspaper-style menu where the drink options are disguised as catalogue advertisements. I opted for the Improved Whiskey Cocktail, which tasted like an old fashioned but smelled like black gumdrops due to the touch of Absinthe it contained.

After cocktails, we little, tiny, baby-stepped our way south to The Public Kitchen & Bar on Bull & Liberty Street for a late night dinner. We were seated in a mid-century modern dining room with geometric pendant lamps that made the hygge-fan-girl in me very pleased. The food at The Public was probably the best of our trip and it had some serious contenders; let me tell you. We enjoyed the Autumn Salad, the Seafood Mac (a creamy, cheesy delight packed with lobster, shrimp, and scallops), and the Lamb Burger (our favorite single food item of the entire trip, a perfectly cooked and spiced burger paired with goat cheese and sweet pepper jam-take me back!).

After dinner, we packed up our leftovers and headed back out into the cold night. We slipped and slid our way back up Bull Street and stumbled across Chippewa Square. Chippewa Square was used as a filming location in the movie, Forrest Gump, and served as the backdrop to the bench where Forrest sits with his suitcase throughout multiple scenes in the movie. While the bench is in a museum now, we still paused to snap a picture only to learn that we had taken the photo from the wrong side of the park. We remedied this error, however, the next evening.

The next morning, I checked my email and learned that our tour of Bonaventure Cemetery for that afternoon had been canceled and that the cemetery would be closed until Monday due to the winter road conditions. We did not end up making it out to the cemetery on this trip as our timing did not allow for a Monday visit. Our morning walking tour of the city, however, was still on, so we headed around the corner to meet up with our tour group.

Our guide from Genteel & Bard Tours was a conservatory-trained actor and certified tour guide who had a contagious enthusiasm for the history of the city. He led us around the historic district, sticking to soft snow or the sunny side of the street as much as possible to allow for safer walking conditions, but we still got to skate around a little bit as we learned more about Savannah’s historic figures and the city’s design.

Among the homes featured on our history tour, was the Green-Meldrim house off of Madison Square. The home served as the headquarters for General Sherman, of the Union Army, during the winter of 1864-1865. According to our guide and a plaque in Madison Square, Sherman met with 20 leaders from Savannah’s African-American churches at the house, under Lincoln’s orders, resulting in his issuing the Special Field Orders No. 15, which reserved coastal land in the south to be settled by freed families of enlisted freedmen. The order was in place only for a short while though, unfortunately, only to be revoked by President Andrew Johnson following President Abraham Lincoln’s death.

Our tour continued south, past scenic Jones Street and through Monterey Square. We learned about the significance of what local Savannahians apparently refer to as “The Book”. The Mercer-Williams House was once home to Jim Williams, an influential player on the chessboard of Savannah Society, in his day. Williams held political sway and significant policy influence by means of invitations (or lack thereof) to his lavish, Saturday parties. Jim Williams was also tried four times for the same murder, the story of which is the basis for John Berendt’s novel Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.

We continued to wind our way through the slippery streets of the historic district and stopped in front of a derelict, Georgian house that was purchased by the owners two years ago and partially demolished, losing the symmetry iconic of Georgian-style architecture. Further renovation on the property must abide by the city’s strictly enforced historic preservation rules. The house overlooks beautiful Taylor Square, so I suppose the renovation will have been worth the wait, once completed.

With one more view of beautiful Jones Street, our tour ended in Lafayette Square, flanked on two sides by The Cathedral Basilica of St. John the Baptist and the Andrew Low House, once home to Juliette Gordon Low, the founder of the Girl Guides and the Girl Scouts.

We took some time for a short rest back at our Airbnb, hoping that the sunny day would work its magic on the icy city and then headed back out for some more views and adventure.

We made our way east across the city and up towards the Savannah riverfront, encountering Savannah’s “Waving Girl” statue of Florence Martus and her dog. We would learn more about her on our Savannah Riverboat Cruise the next day, where our guide told the story that Florence lived on a remote island with her brother, a lighthouse keeper, following their parents’ early death. She would wave to every ship that passed the island, calling out to sailors to ask where they had sailed from and where they were heading. She even trained her dog to wake her up so she wouldn’t miss a passing ship. The tour guide also told us that Florence Martus’ funeral was the most attended in Savannah’s history due to her renown among the maritime community in the area.

We headed up to our next stop for some drinks and lunch, Bar Julian, a place recommended to us by our Airbnb host as having the best rooftop view of the city. I ordered a Mint Julep and we shared a Kafta flatbread that was absolutely delicious. The views were pretty beautiful, but I think my favorite views of Savannah were smaller scale, and from much lower heights, beneath the towering oaks in the city’s plentiful squares.

For dinner later on, we headed to Wright Square Bistro and enjoyed delicious and plentiful fare of mushroom lasagna and steak frites, along with some house red wine and good conversation. It was one of those dinners that I feel like I’ll remember for a long time because of the whole experience and how relaxed I felt in the restaurant’s cozy, unfussy environs. I was enjoying myself so much that I forgot to take any pictures.

Still full from dinner the previous night, we set out the next morning with a goal to see every Square in Savannah and to get a better glimpse of Forsyth Park. Our guide on our walking tour the previous day seemed less than thrilled with Forsyth Park’s centerpiece, a beautiful fountain that the city ordered out of a catalogue and installed in 1858. I still thought it was pretty beautiful and wanted a photo with it.

Our appetites returned in full force and we walked north in pursuit of brunch at The Collins Quarter downtown. We were seated in a cozy room downstairs and our server told us that we couldn’t go wrong with anything we ordered. Based solely on what we ordered, he was correct. I opted for the breakfast sandwich and a spiced lavender mocha. I think it may have been the best coffee of my entire life.

After brunch, we took a river boat cruise on the Savannah River aboard the Georgia Queen and learned about Savannah’s claim to fame as the third largest port in the US (if you combine LA and Long Beach; 4th if you don’t). We learned the history behind the Florence Martus statue and passed by Old Fort Jackson during a cannon fire reenactment. Our guide even pointed out some dolphins in the river and I managed to snap a photo of one in the last photo pictured here! Eep!

Our adventure continued on at the American Prohibition Museum, an impressively-themed tribute to a weird time in history. As we wandered through the lifelike dioramas and displays, including a whiskey gutter, moonshine operation, mob-hit scene, and speak-easy, we wondered just how drunk America was all the time to make the movement seem sane to the “Dries”, those in support of Prohibition. From the samples of propaganda on display throughout the museum, the sway of the media seemed clear, but from the artifacts on display and loopholes detailed in the information plaques, so too was the nation’s affinity for drink.

After the American Prohibition Museum, we were in need of a drink or two. We headed over to Service Brewing Co. and ordered a flight to share. Each sample we tried was excellent, so I imagine it would be hard to go wrong with any of their offerings.

We continued on to the lobby of the JW Marriott in the new Plant Riverside District, it having been suggested by our Airbnb host and our riverboat tour guide as something worth seeing. The biggest draw to the Marriott’s lobby is the huge, chrome, dinosaur suspended from the ceiling followed by the fossils and some massive geodes on display. We found the plaques associated with the display items to be a little pretentious, and didn’t feel the need to stay long. I think we may just be spoiled having lived in New York for years. I have never seen anything quite so impressive as the fossils on display in the American Museum of Natural History, so a chrome dinosaur isn’t gonna do it for me. Someone else might think it’s really cool though, so take what I say with a grain of salt and enjoy as you will.

The next morning, before leaving what is now among my list of favorite places I have visited, we stopped to grab me one one spiced lavender mocha before heading off to the airport for our flight home. Savannah is over for us for now, but it was more beautiful than I dreamed it would be and I look forward to going back someday. Perhaps we’ll walk slow again upon the snow beneath the oaks some other January to come. For now, I have my memories to retrace our icy steps.

Cozy Posts · Travel

Saratoga in the Off-Season

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

Last weekend, our schedule (and our little car) swept us away to Saratoga Springs, NY for a getaway with Mike’s siblings. Saratoga in the off-season is one of my happy places. I enjoy strolling up and down Broadway and perusing the shop windows and the architecture of the beautiful buildings that line the main street in town. We treated ourselves to coffee and pastries at Sweet Mimi’s and Putnam Market in the mornings, feasted on hearty meals at a few local establishments that I will go into further detail on later, and ended our nights with ice cream and fudge at Kilwins.

Northshire Bookstore called my name the whole drive up and walking into the expansive shop felt like a warm hug from an old friend. I warned the group that I would be spending a while in there and that they should feel free to continue on without me if they wanted, but sure enough, the store had something to capture everyone’s interest. I lingered around the stationary section, knowing full-well that my stationary drawer at home was well-stocked already. I just can’t help myself. Maybe it’s a writer thing, but pretty paper that I can write on is so enticing to me. I practiced restraint and reminded myself that I can enjoy the idea of stationary without buying it and bringing it home. I eyed a few Lang Folk Art Calendars that I begrudgingly accepted I didn’t need and continued on to the puzzle section, where my sense of self-control abandoned me immediately at the sight of the selection before me.

Northshire Bookstore is well-stocked with puzzles from my favorite puzzle company, Ravensburger. Ravensburger puzzles are reliable in that the pieces are actually uniquely distinct, unlike some other puzzle company products where you can’t always be sure that you have a piece in the right spot, by fit alone. Ravensburger claims “softclick technology” and they claim correctly, in my opinion as a frequent puzzler. I purchased a 1000-piece Ravensburger puzzle entitled Welcome to Banff, proud that I was able to limit myself to only one and, my friends, I can’t wait to get my hands on those blue-backed pieces once I reach a big writing milestone that is fast approaching, but more on that later this month.

Saratoga in the off-season is the town at rest after a summer of crowds flocking to its boundaries to bathe in the famed spring water spas and attend the horse races at the historic Saratoga Race Course. When we were there, the race track and baths were closed for the season and a faint chill tinged the air, floating in on a breeze from somewhere up north.

Our Airbnb sat nestled on a side street off Congress Park, opposite the park from Broadway. The house was a cozy split-level with three comfortable bedrooms and a spacious living and kitchen area. We spent our downtime watching movies and playing games in the living room, which had an unlit fireplace and a wall of white-washed, built-in shelves and we put together a 1000-piece puzzle, depicting four National Parks, in the kitchen. We snacked on takeaway treats from Sweet Mimi’s, Putnam Market, and Kilwins and sipped on the pomegranate elixir that is Saratoga Red from the Saratoga Winery.

We cut through Congress Park multiple times to go between our cozy homebase and downtown, careful not to disturb the flock of sleepy ducks that had taken up residence at a pond there. We strolled along the paved path, enjoying the views of a couple of the famed springs that had been enshrined beneath ornate pavilions by their benefactors and encrusted with orange and white mineral deposits from the ever-flowing sulfuric trickling. I much preferred the park in the daytime, but the eerie glow from the street lamps along the path at night did usher me into the fall spirit quickly. Fall spirit aside, I was happy to be walking in a group on those nighttime strolls.

We spent our evenings seeking out hearty meals and drinks at Whitman Brewing Company, Boca Bistro, and The Olde Bryan Inn, the last of which gave me the sense of walking into an American version of the cozy Hogsmeade locale, The Three Broomsticks, from the Harry Potter series.

The Olde Bryan Inn, constructed in 1832, is a tavern located on the site of Alexander Bryan’s former log cabin establishment, est. 1773. Waiting outside the stone tavern for our table to be ready, we caught glimpses of the comfortable environs within. The light glowed warm from the burgundy beam-framed windows and illuminated a first glimpse of the wooden beams and overused colonial pots and pans displayed within on the wooden walls.

Walking through the narrow entrance of the tavern, we passed the pub area, a cozy snug with a dark, wood-beamed ceiling and pewter steins hanging from their handles over the broad wooden bar. The sight made me want to order a Butterbeer, but instead I made my selection from the available, muggle offerings and opted for an apple cider mule and a roasted turkey dinner. The evening was a delight filled with lively conversation and delicious food and drink. The Hermione Granger that lives in me was satisfied.

While in town, we were sure to visit Saratoga Spa State Park, where my sister in law was determined to sample some of the springs. For all but one, we anticipated and were met with the telltale pucker that resulted from the taste and texture of the mineral deposit-laden spring water, which is said to relieve gastrointestinal ailments, if ingested, and to soften the skin, if bathed in. Needless to say, she spat the water out, although she did find one spring with a genuinely delicious output, the State Seal Spring. The water at the State Seal Spring was good, but sampling it required interrupting the constant flow of people filling 5-gallon water cooler jugs with the good stuff. Some people just can’t get enough of it, I guess.

At the end of the weekend, we said our goodbyes and departed for home, going our separate ways and looking forward to our next adventure together, wherever it may take us. A year of time and some pleasant hours of planning are all that separate us from that next reunion and I know it will be a match for how lovely this one was.

On Post-Travel Winding Down, Escaping from Rome, and Carrying On
Travel

On Post-Travel Winding Down, Escaping from Rome, and Carrying On

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

We recently returned from vacation in Florida with Mike’s family, and while I am going to miss the beautiful, emerald waters and white sand of Miramar Beach, I’ve got to say that I am happy to be home.

Being able to get back into a routine and feel settled is always a reward after a long trip or travel day and this return was no different. We walked into the condo on Saturday night, left our carry-on suitcases and personal items by our entry area, and sat down on the blue couch to wind down from our journey.

Prior to leaving for a trip, we always try to leave our home somewhat neat so that it is pleasant to walk into upon returning. When dishes and laundry are done and put away and the clothes we left behind are tucked away where they belong, it makes the task of unpacking much more enjoyable. I usually unpack either right away or the morning after returning, putting clean clothes in the dresser and closet, laundry in the hamper, toiletries in the bathroom, and shoes on the shoe rack. I tuck my green, Away Carry-On suitcase, with the matching packing cubes inside, in the bedroom closet where it lives and hang my black, Marmot backpack up in the entryway closet.

I actually enjoy unpacking and as Mike could happily live out of an open suitcase on the living room floor for a week, I usually unpack for him as well because it makes me feel more calm and settled. Everything in our home has a place and that makes it easy to restore our home to its usual state after traveling and to rejuvenate for everyday life. And when those spaces become too full, it is our reminder to re-evaluate our stuff and declutter, if needed.

Growing up, my family did not travel a lot and the travel bug didn’t bite me until I was twenty-one, soon after I had moved to Brooklyn. For our first few trips, Mike and I traveled with a large, checked suitcase that we would borrow from Mike’s mom. It was bulky and difficult to lug to the airport on public transportation. When I first became interested in minimalism after watching Matt D’Avella’s documentary Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things, I wanted to approach the challenge of living light while traveling by packing carry-on only for a trip.

Our first experience traveling carry-on only for a long trip came in September 2017. We were headed to Rome, Florence, and the Amalfi Coast for ten days and after researching our destinations and the plentiful cobblestones and stairs there, it seemed like a perfect opportunity to test out our goal. I used what have become some of my staple travel bags for this trip: my ebags Mother Load Jr. Backpack and my Red House Vermont Waxed Canvas Book Bag Crossbody. I cannot tell you how many people I have recommended these bags to because I have lost track, and while they have jumped in price a bit, I still highly recommend both for functionality and durability in packing light. (Red House even offers discounts for new email subscribers if anyone is interested.)

For our 2017 Italy trip, carry-on only worked well for us and even came in more than handy, and potentially life saving, when we found ourselves trapped on the interior steps of our Airbnb in Rome, separated from the exit door by a tall, black, iron gate. We had a Frecce train to catch in about an hour to take us to Florence and it was torrentially downpouring outside.

After trying and failing to call our Airbnb host multiple times and banging on every door in what seemed to be a four-story, empty office building with an empty Airbnb, we panicked for a couple minutes and eyed the gate with more and more determination. “Fuck it; we’re gonna climb it,” I said with false confidence.

Neither of us really seemed to believe me.

I went first, placing my right, gray, Converse sneaker in the low foothold of the gate. I swung my left leg up and had to hop to push my thigh on the gate in order to propel myself over, adrenaline pumping too hard to feel the pain that would catch up with me later in the day. My left foot found the lower foothold and I could jump down to reach the floor. The accomplishment was too great to process and a surge of relief overcame the fear from moments ago. Mike, more determined and in semi-disbelief that I had climbed the gate, was able to toss our bags over and I caught them on the other side. He climbed and propelled himself over the gate and together, we ran to the Tabacchi around the corner to get our tickets for the bus to the train station. We were completely soaked within the thirty seconds it took to get to the Tabacchi and then waited at the bus stop, completely sopping, but out in the open air in Rome and nothing could be more wonderful than not being trapped anymore.

When we arrived at our Airbnb in Florence and unpacked, there were puddles in our backpacks and we hung our clothes up all around the room to let them dry, riding high on our escape from Rome until the shock and bruises set in. We spent our nights in Florence away from our humid room, our legs sore, drinking pints of beer instead of glasses of wine and reminisced about how we had climbed the gate.

On our recent trip to Rome this past spring, we revisited our Airbnb from 2017 and the experience gave us some closure that we needed. We posed in front of the doorway with frowny faces and our thumbs down, with the certainty that we would never stay there again and then we left to join my family for a delicious pasta dinner.

While packing carry-on only may not always come in quite as handy as it did for us on that first trip to Italy together, it makes it so much easier to get around while traveling, whether it be on public transportation, through the airport, or around a city. Having limited space in your travel bags encourages you to pack very intentionally and to use your creativity to create multiple outfits out of a small capsule wardrobe of items.

If you are planning an upcoming trip, I encourage you to try packing light and if you’re in for a real challenge, you could even test out the sense of freedom that comes with Carry-on only travel. Until next time, happy planning, happy packing, and happy travels. And if you ever face a tall iron gate of your own, I wish you luck, strength, perseverance and lots of cold ice packs.