Solilochairliftquist: Chairlift Reverie

Check out this short, must-see video and definitely view it in full screen mode. This little gem will transport you directly onto Lifts 7 & 9, locals’ favorites, here in Telluride. Whether you’re alone or accompanied by someone you know or even a complete stranger, there’s no place like the chairlift for awesome daydreaming. It doesn’t get any better than this, especially in T-ride.

Thank you to Faverman Films for this delightful creation.

Drooling Over Pastry Paris

"Pastry Paris: In Paris, Everything Looks Like Dessert"

“The fine arts are five in number, namely:  painting, sculpture, poetry, music, and architecture, the principal branch of the latter being pastry.”

                                                                                                  —Antonin Carême (1783-1833)

The above quote surely served as inspiration for Susan Hochbaum in the creation of her darling book, “Pastry Paris:  In Paris, Everything Looks Like Dessert” (The Little Bookroom). A luscious treat, enticing enough to devour in one sitting, “Pastry Paris” takes my vote for the best gift-y book of the season. Lovers of Paris, pastry, history and beauty will savor it like a best-loved dessert.

“It’s hard not to love a city with a pâtisserie on nearly every block, where pastries are sold all day long to People who never get fat.”

This is how Ms. Hochbaum begins “Pastry Paris,” a clever little delight that pleases by its words, photography and design. Who has not been mesmerized by the candy-colored allure and sheer artistry of French pastries? Did you know that most of these masterpieces boast very particular names such as Religieuse, St. Honoré, Paris-Brest and the well-known Eclair? These names—with only occasional variations—are the same throughout all of France, names that have been used in most cases for centuries for the same scrumptious little cakes featured in bakeries like jewels in a showcase.

In “Pastry Paris,” you’ll learn that each pastry possesses its own story, its own special place in la culture générale of France. From Brioche to Madeleine, Ms. Hochbaum tells a tale about all of France’s beloved gâteaux as she takes you along to many of Paris’s most famous pâtisseries and landmark sites along the way. This is one visual stroll through Paris that cannot easily be forgotten.

To be extra special, I suggest you offer “Pastry Paris” with a selection of fine, French pastries.

For now, indulge in this glorious celebration of Paris pastries from Ms. Hochbaum and me by clicking here.

DCPA, The Lion King, Kevin Taylor and Other Roars About Denver’s Downtown and LoDo

The Lion King

With Halloween behind us, we can focus more on the real holiday season, the nearly two-month period that begins right about now. (You all must know that it has been moved up!) For me, one of the nicest things to do during this festive period is to go out on the town for dinner and a show, a not-too-easy feat from Telluride but certainly closer than New York.

The Denver Center for the Performing Arts (DCPA) makes such a night out worth the effort since they consistently offer a tremendous lineup of shows and performances, all concentrated within a twelve-acre, four-block complex in the heart of downtown Denver. Did you know that DCPA is the second largest arts complex in the country? Their ten performance spaces beautifully accommodate Broadway touring productions, a major symphony and opera, dance and ballet, chorales and a variety of theater groups. They can seat 10,000 people within their theaters, splendid showplaces of varying sizes connected by an eighty-foot-tall glass roof.

And tonight “The Lion King” opens at The Buell Theatre for a five-week run! This dazzling production enjoyed sell-out shows during their 2002 and 2006 engagements in Denver. Tickets are still available for this stint but as expected, they’re going fast. I hope I can take it in since I love great stories, spectacular shows and cats of all kinds.

The Bar at Kevin Taylor's at The Opera House

Wondering where to have dinner near the DCPA? Let me suggest Kevin Taylor’s at The Opera House, just steps away from any of the performances. The sophisticated, dramatic decor here makes you feel as though you’re sitting upon a stage, one in which la mise en place and mise en scène of everything—from the costumes on the wall to the food on your plates—are clearly of the utmost importance. Yes, here you can easily applaud all the visual and gustatory effects that open your evening like a red velvet curtain parting before you. Probably the best news of this performance, however, is that they serve fine food and drink in near-record time. Accustomed to catering to people in a rush, the waitstaff at Kevin Taylor’s at The Opera House always makes sure you’re served in plenty of time for your show.

Colorado native Kevin Taylor stands out as one of Denver’s top restaurateurs, boasting five dining establishments in Denver and one in Central City, Colorado. Also at the DCPA, Kevin’s Limelight Supper Club & Lounge headlines fresh and casual cuisine for the pre and post theatre crowds.

If you’re able to carve out more time, Prima Ristorante, one of KT’s other establishments, is just a short walk away in Denver’s Lower Downtown, or LoDo, one of my favorite neighborhoods of the mile-high city. Situated within the lovely Hotel Teatro, Prima features light Italian fare in an open and airy, Euro-inspired setting.  They serve breakfast, brunch, lunch and dinner, so maybe you can make a meal here work with your matinée or evening performance schedule. Restaurant Kevin Taylor, also located within Hotel Teatro, commands that you spend more time à table. Haute cuisine cannot be rushed, n’est-ce pas?

Succulent Beef: The Main Act at Kevin Taylor's

The Dining Room at Kevin Taylor's at The Opera House

When at the Teatro, be sure to look around to admire their many glorious costumes on display from past theater productions at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts. This boutique hotel reminds me of an Italian villa, a real gem. Even better, book a room here.

Leo, My Lion King, Roaring or Perhaps Yawning

You can also stay at The Curtis, another one of my favorites, located right across the street from DCPA. Light-hearted types—or perhaps those most in need of a good chuckle—will love it!

Aren’t the holidays supposed to be about fun and merry-making? We have enough Greek tragedies in our lives these days in any event.

Check out Hysterical in DenverViva Italia, Viva Italian Americans, Viva la Dolce Vita in Denver and Holiday Time in Denver for more stories on DCPA.  Read Fun this Summer and Year-Round at The Curtis for another mention of DCPA in my write up on one of Denver’s hippest hotels.

Read More LoDo Love, Viva Italia, Viva Italian Americans, Viva la Dolce Vita in Denver and Night Out in Denver for more on Hotel Teatro, Prima Ristorante and LoDo.

Thank you to DCPA, Joan Marcus @ Disney and Kevin Taylor for the images in this post.

Touring the Southwest with My Parents

A Great Facebook Profile Picture: Dad at the Grand Canyon

Are you familiar with those digital photo frames that display a continuous stream of select images? Well, I was back east in October visiting my parents and brought one of those frames to them as a gift. We had to enlist outside help (thanks Brian) to transfer my images onto the frame (I’m so eighteenth century), but once it started to flash our faces across the screen, we all beamed. My father especially glowed since he was finally able to see himself backdropped by a parade of images from the Grand Canyon and other notable sites in the Southwest. It was like bringing him back to the South Rim of the Canyon to gaze over the vastness and grandeur of what is most certainly our country’s greatest treasure.

We embarked on our two-week Western Jamboree just about a year ago. Fall and even winter are two fantastic seasons for visiting many of our National Parks, especially the Grand Canyon. During these times the wondrous play of light combined with a lack of crowds make these sites even more enchanting. The focal point of our trip was to be the Grand Canyon, a place my father always dreamed of seeing. At the age of eighty-four, we were ready to grant him his wish.

Grand Canyon View from Moran Point

It had taken me weeks to plan this trip since I knew that doing a road trip with seniors represented certain important considerations. My brother, David, insisted we rent a big honking SUV, something I couldn’t fathom wielding around parking lots and other tight spaces. Fortunately he was right since we appreciated the comfort and roominess it provided more than we could have imagined. We felt solid powering across the wide-open spaces of some of America’s most stunning and desolate roadways.

I had planned the trip so that we’d do an average of four hours of driving on our travel days and spend at least two nights at most of the main stops on the itinerary. This worked out beautifully since we found ourselves leaving hotels late morning, breaking up the trip with lunch and arriving at our destination toward the end of the day—just at that perfect time when the sun bathed the scenery in a golden hue. This Hollywood-lighting effect rendered the views—especially the red rocks—all the more spectacular.

We set out from Telluride and moved from an alpine landscape to more buff-colored panoramas and within an hour and a half reached Cortez, Colorado. Here we passed the first of many trading posts we’d see throughout our travels. We crossed the Ute Indian Reservation as the colors changed from beige to pink and eventually to red toward Monument Valley. The rock formations became increasingly dramatic until we arrived at the most awe-inspiring of them all, the monuments of Monument Valley. I can honestly say that my dad’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened as he took in their magnificence.

Dad and Me at Monument Valley

Our stay at Goulding’s Lodge, the most historic place of lodging in Monument Valley, was punctuated by the history of western movie-making in this iconic land, an introduction to the Native American culture (something particularly new to dad) and chuck wagon-sized plates of food. Harry Goulding, a sheep trader, from Durango, Colorado, established the first trading post here in 1923 and began trading with the Native Americans. After the start of the Great Depression, Harry approached John Ford in Hollywood—having learned he wanted to make a western—and showed him pictures of Monument Valley. “Stagecoach,” directed by John Ford and starring John Wayne, was the first movie filmed in Monument Valley, a setting that’s still prominently featured today in all sorts of movies and commercials. We enjoyed Goulding’s old trading post museum and film, both of which recount the rich history of movie-making in the Valley.

From Monument Valley to Kayenta and then eventually to the Grand Canyon, the scenery morphed from flat to deep divides and hills, seemingly in preparation for what some might call the greatest gash on earth. Juniper, sage brush and pignon dotted the far-reaching vistas before us. We stopped for another huge plate of food at a Diné restaurant in Tuba City. (Mom and I had not yet had our share of Navajo fry bread and dad was enjoying the beans!) I learned that the very strange name of Tuba supposedly comes from Tuuvi, the name of a Hopi Indian Chief. We contemplated stopping to look at Dinosaur Tracks just outside of Tuba City but were afraid they might disappoint. (With seniors you have to pick and choose your stops—outside of bathroom breaks—very carefully.)

At the end of the third day, we arrived at the Grand Canyon in Arizona and caught our first glimpse of this Natural Wonder of the World at Desert View Watchtower. It truly felt like a resurrection of sorts, especially for dad. This would be the first (and actually one of the best) vantage points we’d visit within the next couple of days. Words cannot accurately describe the breathtaking views offered at every landing place along and within the Grand Canyon National Park.

The Three Wayfarers at the Grand Canyon

If you haven’t been there—go! It seems as though foreigners have a better appreciation for one of our country’s greatest assets than most Americans. I hadn’t encountered so many visitors of so many different nationalities since I visited the Great Wall of China. Don’t miss what’s in your own backyard.

I visited the Canyon briefly when I was a teen and was astounded then. But this time, I became more in touch with the countless activities you can do there from visiting historical sites to hiking to shopping and more. In the company of two seniors, I dialed it down a lot, so the focus was mainly on sightseeing (and what sites there were to behold!), shopping and yes, more eating. It was just great to be at the Grand Canyon. Here huge elk herds slowed the cars, a mama doe and four babies brushed by us on our way to dinner and the smell of pine seemed to cling to the air most everywhere.

One of Our Many Animal Friends

Mom and Visitors

On the South Rim, the hub of most Grand Canyon activity including Grand Canyon Village, we enjoyed the use of a great shuttle bus service that ushered us to our various destinations. Friendly drivers pointed us in the right direction when I failed to see clearly through the abundance of maps and brochures I’d accumulated along the way. Dad, mom and I viewed the canyon from numerous points, outlooks and vistas, making sure that the walking distances were minimal for each site.

El Tovar Dining Room

We restored ourselves over terrific meals and quickly deemed El Tovar, the most renowned lodge and restaurant of the many Grand Canyon establishments, our favorite. The contrast of the dark wood paneling of their cozy interior with the brightness of the Canyon views outside appealed to us greatly. But maybe we were most lured in by their delicious food, copiously served on pearl-white china, the exact replica of what was used on the Santa Fe railroad. We were also thrilled that here we were allowed to order half portions (at least for breakfast), a growing necessity at this juncture of the trip.

Mom and I reveled in the history and tradition of the El Tovar and many of the other sites at the Canyon. We dined here one night by ourselves, having left dad back at Maswick Lodge with a sandwich and his Fox TV, an addiction of sorts that he was surely becoming itchy about by now. We enjoyed an elegant dinner and then made a beeline for the El Tovar boutique. After a visit earlier that afternoon at the Hopi House across the way, we ascertained that the Grand Canyon offers some of the best shopping in the world.

The Fred Harvey Trading Company had been established here back in the day and their tradition of selling superior quality Native American Arts and Crafts continues today. We knew that at El Tovar we’d find jewelry of the highest quality, all at a fair price. Mom purchased a stunning string of Navajo silver beads for herself and offered me an apple-green gaspeite necklace that I’ve come to cherish along with the memories of the trip. With eight Native American tribes that still call the Grand Canyon home, the Canyon is well served in Native American arts and cultural influences of every kind.

Hopi House Weavings

On our way out of the Canyon, we stopped to watch the Imax Grand Canyon film at the National Geographic Visitor Center, twenty minutes outside of the Park. This sensational film offered yet a whole other set of perspectives of the Canyon from the adventures of Major John Wesley Powell, the first known person to explore the Colorado River to  to modern-day rafting. It was terrific to see the Canyon and the mighty Colorado river from below since we had only viewed it from above. (Actually you can only see a sliver of the Colorado at certain vantage points along the rims.) Once again, I had the pleasure of seeing my dad bug-eyed at the wonders of this film. (My mom tends to be more reserved although I knew she loved it, too.)

We drove away fully satiated. The Grand Canyon did not disappoint.

“What a ribbon of road,” my mom exclaimed as she cruised along one of the seemingly never-ending stretches as we headed back in the direction of Kayenta and Monument Valley toward Bluff, Utah. It was the end of the day and the colors were changing from taupe to magenta to vermillion. We thought we had had enough of exclaiming over the scenery but at this point of the journey, we were mesmerized by the marbleized rust and cream tones of the earth.

Mom and Dad at Goosenecks

A quick stop at Goosenecks, a spectacular geological site, featured in the film “Thelma and Louise,” starring Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis broke up the drive. Just enough for a few more oohs and aahs and another photo opp. We arrived in Bluff, Utah, a remote southwestern Utah town settled by Mormons in the 1880s, as the sun was sinking behind the red rocks and the sky muted into pink apricot. With its stunning red rock formations, millions of years of geological history and canyons that beg to be explored, it’s no wonder retired geologists and outdoor enthusiasts populate this isolated outpost today. We had a disappointing stay at the Calf Canyon B & B but our dinner at Cottonwood Steakhouse scored huge points on ambiance and authenticity. We reveled over their char-broiled steaks, cowboy beans, roasted potatoes and an unbelievably tasty apple pie. Our food fest throughout the Southwest had finally concluded. It was time to go home.

Our drive back to Telluride presented more transcending landscapes dominated, by red and beige and then copper and gold to dark green as we approached higher elevations. We marveled at the fall colors flanking the La Sal mountains outside of Blanding. I gazed wistfully out at the scenery of the Great American West, wondering if anything like this would ever be repeated with my parents again. Probably not. It was a once-in-a-lifetime trip, for all of us.

Thankfully we have many of the images from that trip on display on our digital photo frame, ever-lasting memories that will remain forever grand in our minds.

 

“The meaning of life is to make life meaningful,” as A.C. Grayling, a contemporary thinker and philosopher, stated in today’s New York Times.

For more about traveling with seniors, read Traveling with Seniors:  A Lesson in Patience and Humility.

Note that we rented our vehicle from Alamo at the Montrose, Colorado airport and enjoyed excellent service.

A Heartwarming Day Trip to Western Massachusetts and the Norman Rockwell Museum

Autumnal Scene in Stockbridge, Massachusetts

I was back east recently visiting my parents in upstate New York. Mom and I had on our agenda a “day out” to ourselves, one just like the old days. To us that meant planning a jaunt to a nearby destination such as the Hudson Valley region, southern Vermont or the Berkshires in western Massachusetts, all scenic and fairly rural destinations within about an hour’s drive of my parents’ house in Troy, New York. These were the places we would travel to throughout the years, especially when I was growing up. Together we would marvel at the pastoral landscapes while chitchatting the day away. Lunch, a bit of shopping and often a museum visit were all key components of a successful day trip, the perfect female bonding experience for two gals living in a house full of men. (I grew up with five brothers, a father and no sisters.)

It was during these joyous excursions that my love for unique places full of personality and charm emerged. I could hardly tolerate department stores or malls when I was a girl and still have a hard time with them today. Yes, these trips to soulful sites full of history and tradition planted the seeds for the shopping service I founded in Paris some years later and the four books I came to write on shopping and touring in Paris and the French provinces. My philosophy is and always will be about the whole shopping and touring experience—it’s not so much about what you buy, it’s about how and where you buy it and what you learn along the way. Truth is, I’m not even a big advocate of buying, but we all do, so why not have it be something special that you’ve procured in a memorable manner?

This special day to ourselves was more challenging to organize since we don’t leave my eighty-five-year-old Dad alone much any more. With a hearty, microwavable meal prepared in advance at the ready, cell phones listed in plain site and the reassurance that his Life-Alert was in working order, we said “Hasta la Vista,” knowing full well that we’d all appreciate the much-needed time away from each other.

The Berkshires won out this time, mostly since I expressed a keen desire to visit the new Norman Rockwell Museum. (New is relative since this current, more expanded showcase of this great American illustrator’s works and more opened in 1993. My Mom and I had visited the original Norman Rockwell Museum a couple of times decades ago, but we had not had the opportunity to find our way to this part of western Massachusetts in years. Hey, what can I say? France and Colorado have been my focus throughout most of my adult life.)

Norman Rockwell Museum (exterior). Photo by Art Evans. ©Norman Rockwell Museum. All rights reserved.

On this gorgeous Indian Summer day, we set out for Stockbridge, Massachusetts along the Mass Pike, a leisurely drive that revealed the most beautiful fall colors of my whole ten-day October trip home. We were hitting it at its best, an especially fortunate occurrence for me since I had also taken in the peak foliage of the Rockies just before I left Colorado. The bursts of russet, crimson, bittersweet and dark yellow on the long, loaf-y Berkshire Hills furnished quite a different autumnal tableau from the orangey-golds that flank our snow-capped, towering peaks. Indeed, this part of the country appears older and more steeped in tradition than the mighty West.

The Red Lion Inn: The Place for Lunch

After a short tour along a meandering road off the highway, we arrived at Stockbridge, surely one of the most picturesque villages in all of New England. With a Main Street scene that appears fresh out of a storybook, it’s no wonder Norman Rockwell chose to live here the latter part of his life and to feature many of the town’s buildings and residences in his works. Mom and I headed directly for The Red Lion Inn, one of our all-time favorite places to lunch. As one of the few continuously operating inns in the country since the 1700s, you can bet that coming here plunges you into a marvelous immersion of Colonial America.

We were happy to be seated right away in their glorious dining room filled with leaf peepers from all over the world. (We even met one couple from Australia.) Mom and I happily settled in to this regal setting replete with red floral carpet and wallpaper, white tablecloths and collections of teapots and coffee pots adorning the walls. “I love how everything is so clear and sparkling,” my mother remarked. Indeed, it was nice to see that it was as lovely and grand as I had remembered it from many years ago. Mom and I calculated that it had in fact been eighteen years since we last lunched at The Red Lion Inn. It seemed hard to believe as we both commented that we hoped it wouldn’t be another eighteen before a return visit.

“I’d be ninety-six then,” my Mom piped up. A bitter-sweet comment since I felt a tweak of sadness that she would be that old but was also happy that she considered living that long, something she balked at in years past.

“Well, you might not be driving then, Mom,” I replied. “But I’d be happy to chauffeur you here.” We laughed since in all of our forays, Mom has always been the driver and I’m the navigator, at best.

We savored every spoonful of our New England Clam Chowder, followed by salads, a Caesar for my mother, a Frisée, Radicchio and Spinach for me. People around us feasted on hand-carved turkey sandwiches, Indian Pudding, Roasted Pumpkin Crème Brulée and other tempting offerings. We passed on dessert and padded out to peruse the Inn’s fine furnishings and outstanding collection of china up close. Being cat lovers, we also gave Simon, the Inn’s resident kitty, a few good pets.

The Red Lion Inn in Fall: A Veritable Pumpkin and Gourd Fest

We poked around The Red Lion Inn Gift Shop and then looked next door at An American Craftsman Gallery and Stockbridge General Store, a charming old cache of goods loaded with everything from horehounds (one of Mom’s favorite candies) to hand-dipped beeswax candles, hand thrown pottery and much, much more. As we creaked over the wooden floor, commenting on the various tchotchkes, it truly felt like old times. Perhaps the only thing different was that we were moving slower and buying less. I guess that’s what happens with age and wisdom!

The “Four Freedoms” gallery at Norman Rockwell Museum. Photo courtesy of Berkshire Visitors Bureau. All rights reserved.

Another short, scenic drive landed us at the Norman Rockwell Museum—finally! I walked in here with my mouth gaping nearly as wide as it had when I first laid eyes on his magnificent paintings. So many of them came back to me although in this new, more airy space they’re better displayed. Here they’re featured with extensive explanations that tell the story of each of Mr. Rockwell’s marvelous works, his picture-perfect glimpses of life in America. We also appreciated this new space for the well-placed seating areas that invite you to sit and contemplate the paintings, drawings and illustrations until you’re ready to move on. Closing time came all too fast, but I was still able to dart around the Museum’s campus to take in more idyllic Berkshire Hills views and to glimpse at the artist’s original studio that had been moved here from Stockbridge. I then blasted downstairs of the museum to watch the ten-minute video on Norman Rockwell’s life while admiring the extraordinary display of his renowned The Saturday Evening Post covers on display in the same room. Mom scoured the gift shop during that time until we both shuffled out of the museum with the last of the day’s stragglers.

Photo by Sarah Edwards. ©Norman Rockwell Museum. All rights reserved.

Norman Rockwell’s original Stockbridge studio (exterior). Photo by Art Evans. ©Norman Rockwell Museum. All rights reserved.

We took the back roads home winding through more fall foliage-festooned villages than we could count. Colorado isn’t as big on Halloween decorations, perhaps because the snow and cold arrives so early, so I delighted in all the goblins, pumpkin patches and scarecrows along the way. We only stopped once and that was for another northeastern tradition of sorts that we like to share together:  a coffee shake from Friendly’s. The trip had been a triumph—mother and daughter enjoyed time together while giving father a break. We recounted our day’s doings to Dad upon our return and he did the same about his day with us.

Now that my father heard our raves about The Red Lion Inn and the Norman Rockwell Museum, I can only hope that my parents find their way there together in the not-too-distant future. Day trips do a world of good, even if you break out of the mother-daughter equation.

The Red Lion Inn, 30 Main Street, Stockbridge, 413-298-5545.

Norman Rockwell Museum, 9 Route 183, Stockbridge, 413-298-4100.

An American Craftsman Gallery, 36 Main Street, Stockbridge, 413-298-0175.

Stockbridge General Store, 40 Main Street, Stockbridge, 413-298-3060.

Thank you to the Norman Rockwell Museum and the Stockbridge Chamber of Commerce  and Kevin Sprague for the images in this post.

Note the fall colors appeared to be late this year in the East, supposedly due to all the rain they had and few frosts. So I’m sure there’s lots of great leaf-looking to be enjoyed in New England. Holiday time is also very special there as well.

Check out Cape Cod, Cranberries and the Creation of Ever-Lasting Memories to read about another memorable New England fall trip, that time with both Mom and Dad.

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