Bonjour Colorado

This is It: MJ and The Black Legend

No Words Can Describe this Black Legend

Leave it to the French. They’re always on the cutting edge of what’s hot. They’re usually the harbingers of the next big happening, the next thing with which we should be consumed. Just think of Louis XIV and the role he played in ballet—it’s largely thanks to his interest in this dance that ballet gained such prominence in eighteenth century France, a notoriety that has grown throughout the centuries. He did the same for hairdressing. And how about American jazz? Nowhere has jazz been so revered as in Paris.

So I should have intuitively sensed something last spring when I received a press release announcing the creation of The Black Legend Monaco, a new nightspot on the French Riviera that pays tribute to Motown Music. It captured my attention since it’s part of Groupe Floirat, the same family-owned company that’s behind the celebrated Hotel Byblos in Saint-Tropez and its legendary nightclub, Les Caves du Roy. Oddly enough Michael Jackson died tragically as the finishing touches were applied to this ultra swanky hotspot in the tiny Principality of Monaco. Was it providential for the French to place such a heavy accent on Motown Music or was it just a sure bet?

It doesn’t matter. I’m left thinking of that club tonight. I wish I could beam myself in to it and dance the night away to the music of Smokey Robinson, The Four Tops, The Jackson 5 and, of course, Michael Jackson. You see I just returned from the last showing of “This is It” from our historic Nugget Theater of Telluride. (Movies typically arrive here four to six weeks after they open nationally.) And I want to dance, I want to groove to MJ’s beat.

I pitied the poor person behind me in the theater since I didn’t stop moving my head throughout the almost two hours of the film. Tapping my foot wasn’t enough. Then when the movie ended I felt that I could sit back down and watch it all over again; now that’s something that never occurred to me before. I felt the music and dance in my bones and I just wanted it to keep on going. I felt somewhat consoled at the end of the film by these lines: Michael Jackson, King of Pop, Love Lives Forever. His music is love and that’s what will keep his memory alive.

The Black Legend Monaco opened October 29th with Prince Albert II and some 1800 privileged guests in attendance including The Supremes and Martha Reeves and the Vandellas. What a party they must have had. I’m guessing the scene has been going off ever since. MJ would surely approve, especially since nobody does a nightclub like the Europeans.

I know what’s on my travel wish list for 2010. You just might want to put it on yours. And if you haven’t seen “This is It,” I suggest you do.

Visit This is It and The Black Legend Monaco to begin to get your groove on.

Interior of The Black Legend Monaco

The National Trust and Us

Richard Moe: Our Nation's Top Preservationist Enjoying the Great American West

People don’t want to go to a place that has lost its soul.

—Arthur Frommer

Richard Moe, president of the National Trust for Historic Preservation, shared the above quote with me in a recent Travel Fun interview.  As our nation’s leading historic preservation organization, the Trust has saved the soul and character of countless places in its sixty years of existence. From main streets to historic sites, this bipartisan organization works tirelessly toward preserving our country’s heritage.

As a part-time resident of Telluride, I’ve had the privilege of chatting with Dick Moe about historic preservation and some of his favorite destinations several times.  He loves his time in the West and makes Telluride his base every summer for visiting some of the most significant cultural sites in the United States including Canyon of the Ancients in southwestern Colorado.  In our interview, he also talks about other exciting locales in the region such as Durango, Silverton, Chimney Rock and the Rio Grande Gorge in Del Norte.

As for Telluride, it’s clear that it stands a cut above all other Rocky Mountain destinations.  ”Telluride has done a better job of preserving its historic character than any other mountain town,” says Dick.  He also shares his thoughts on the Telluride Valley Floor, a 500-acre parcel of open space that he fought hard to preserve.

The Trust’s programs on sustainability and historic preservation are also discussed in our interview. Currently the organization is committed to a sustainability program that focuses on the environmental value of “recylcing” older buildings for new uses and retrofitting them for greater energy efficiency.

Heritage tourism is the fastest growing part of tourism, already a huge industry in our country.  The National Trust has offered tours all over the world for quite some time but they’re expanding their reach with Gozaic, a one-stop shopping portal for heritage travel.  You can hear what Dick has to say about this in our chat as well.

Listen to the entire half-hour interview I conducted with Richard Moe by clicking on the play button here:

People want to experience what’s real and genuine in communities.

—Richard Moe, President of the National Trust for Historic Preservation

Note that at the same time of this story posting, Richard Moe announced his retirement from the National Trust for Historic Preservation.  He has been the longest serving president in the sixty-year history of the Trust.  He plans to continue to hold that position until a replacement is found, likely in the spring of 2010.

National Trust for Historic Preservation, 202-588-6000 and 800-944-6847, www.preservationnation.org; you may become a member of the Trust and receive their award-winning magazine six times a year for as little as $20.

Mid-Atlantic Discoveries: Baltimore

Historic Fell's Point

When my boyfriend, Steve, asked me to accompany him to his brother’s wedding on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, I didn’t expect that the trip would grow into such a big travel week (actually more like ten days).  But I should have known that that would be the case since the travel writer in me itched for new experiences and, of course, it takes more doing than one flight to reach the Outer Banks from Telluride.  It’s rare that I can go to a place and just BE; instead I seek to live it fully, gathering all kinds of information along the way, jotting down notes, doing what I can to find the story.

We flew from Denver to Baltimore and since I had never visited this major hub, I decided it was a must-see.  It did not disappoint me in the slightest.  We stayed our first night together on the east coast at The Admiral Fell Inn, a historic property on Fell’s Point, Baltimore’s original port and Maryland’s first National Historic District.  (The area was spared destruction in the late sixties after a grassroots effort prevented construction of a highway plumb through this now happening neighborhood.  Can you imagine?)

Once dominated by ship building and commerce, today Fell’s Point is a charming harbor side district characterized by centuries-old buildings, eclectic shops, lively taverns and cobbled streets made from bricks of granite used for ship ballast.  Goods once flowed through the wharves and warehouses of Fell’s Point with as many as eighteen shipyards operating in the area, building hundreds of vessels.  Many of these structures have recently been converted into fun spaces for people to live and play; others, such as the taverns, have existed for ages.  

The Admiral Fell Inn

The Admiral Fell Inn, named after Edward Fell, one of Baltimore’s earliest developers, is comprised of eight adjoining buildings, some dating back as far as the 1760s.  Colonel Fell never was awarded the naval designation of Admiral but he did do much to gentrify this land from which sprung some of the most famous shipyards of the world.  His wife, Ann, brought British flavor to “The Point” by naming many of the streets after the most renowned in London including Bond, Fleet and Thames. 

Steve and I settled ourselves into our corner room at the inn, flew open the windows and breathed in the dewy, coastal air.  I had already commented several times by now how my skin and hair felt so incredibly soft, a refreshing change from the extreme dryness of the Rockies.  It was Friday night, dark by now and the streets were filling up below with locals and visitors alike.  We could have been two sailors on leave.  Steve brought up a couple of beers from the bar below and we toasted our arrival into the New World.  We already felt light years away from the mountains.  

The drizzle outside accentuated the distinctly Londonian feel of Fell’s Point.  We strolled hand and hand out along the wharf to take a look at the harbor, our first time together at the sea (well not exactly the sea, but close enough for two landlocked people such as ourselves).  The place and the spot couldn’t have felt more special to us.  It was delightful to see an historic area that so fully retained its charm, a highly attractive place of interest that hasn’t been all built out and marred with chain stores and sprawling food emporiums.  

We just needed to determine which one of Fell’s Point’s authentic taverns would be our best bet for our one night out in Baltimore.  Good crab cakes would, of course, be the determining factor, so we set out inquiring here and there, in search of the best recommendation.  Duda’s Tavern won out unanimously and although I didn’t much watch “Cheers,” I imagined it could easily be compared to this renowned Boston bar, only this sixty-year old establishment appeared smaller, more intimate and certainly far better known for its tasty eats.  It fit the low-ceilinged model of the surrounding taverns and like the others, proudly displayed its love of sports and beer, providing considerable options for the former, countless for the latter including close to one hundred kinds of bottled and draft beer.  ESPN competed with Bon Jovi and although I’m not much of a sports enthusiast, I embraced the scene like a Ravens fan on opening day.

Steve introduced me to steamed shrimp seasoned with Old Bay, another first for me and the perfect accompaniment to our frosty beers.  Crab cakes served with homemade potato salad and cold chunk crab presented in a martini glass with a side of drawn butter followed.  The combination of cold crab and warm melted butter did little for me, however, the meaty crab cakes were some of the best I ever tasted.  No breading here, just plump crab lightly seasoned and baked to a golden brown.

Afterward we strolled along Thames Street, poking our heads into more bars and checking out shops such as The Sound Garden where Steve picked up a bunch of hard-to-find CDs and where we both enjoyed rummaging around.  By now the bar scene was going off and all kinds of music emanated from within the neighborhood’s jumble of hangouts.  

Folded into the couches of the lounge at Meli, the newly installed restaurant/bar, downstairs from our hotel, we ordered one glass of bubbly and a fruit tart.  Our soirée was finished off en élégance, serenaded by a female jazz vocalist that would make Billy Holiday proud.  

We loved the fact that we could sleep with the windows wide open on this balmy night of mid September.  (The windows had long been shut at night back in the mountains where the thermometer was already flirting with the freezing point.)  We were lulled to sleep by the sound of cars rumbling on cobblestones and rock and roll resounding from the bar below.  Or was that the echo of passing carriages and bawdy sailors that rang in our ears?  The friendly folks at the front desk of the inn told us about the legendary spirits that reside within the premises the next day, but we had no encounters with them during our stay at the inn.  Or maybe we did after all?

The Inn's Lobby and Front Desk

Breakfast on Saturday couldn’t have been more enjoyable.  We returned to Meli and sat on stools perched within their bright, contemporary decor facing the brick facades along Thames Street.  Steve had a crab omelette dressed with beurre blanc that I’m still talking about, an exquisite creation modestly priced at $6.95.

After having shopped for rich and exotic honeys at the Meli boutique (meli means honey in Greek), I spent the next couple of hours exploring while Steve headed off to visit family.  My research lead me to Harbor East a few blocks from Fell’s Point where old industrial buildings are being converted into hip hangouts.  Spa Santé is one such place, and here I relished a rare treat:  a manicure.  I have pedicures a plenty but rarely manicures, mostly since I like to keep my nails filed down for quick and easy typing.  I do love to check out spas when I’m traveling though, so this bit of pampering seemed to make the most sense.  Richard, a longtime local and a skilled cosmetologist, took care of me and we chatted lots about the evolution of the neighborhoods in a town that he clearly loves.  “Harbor East has more of a West Village feel,” he said.  “Fell’s Point, too.”  And then I remembered what a friend from the West Village said about gay men gentrifying neighborhoods.  

“Yes, I thought I spotted some smartly dressed gay men around town last night,” I added.  Harbor East, like the West Village, was certainly benefiting from their creative flair.  

I met my brother, Frank, for lunch at Sabatino’s one of the better known restaurants in Little Italy, another neighborhood adjacent to Fell’s Point.  We feasted over homemade ravioli and Chianti in this large restaurant that seemed little changed since Frank Sinatra’s heydey.  The smell of garlic wafted in the air and although sparsely populated, the other diners dispersed throughout the various rooms of this old establishment seemed to be enjoying their meals as much as we delighted in ours.  

From here we drove to Federal Hill, another area punctuated by Baltimore’s famed row houses, only here they’re grander and far more historic than the ones in Little Italy.  “Lots of yuppies have moved into Federal Hill over the past thirty years,” Richard told me.  From atop the hill you have a great view of the inner harbor, yet most of the old homes at the base of the hill don’t benefit from such vistas.  

Frank lives in D.C., and like many residents of our nation’s Capitol, he spends a fair amount of leisure time museum going.  In Baltimore, he was eager to introduce me to the American Visionary Art Museum, one of the top-ranked museums in the country.  This is America’s official national museum and education center for the best in intuitive and original, self-taught artistry.  The over-sized, kinetic sculptures outside of the museum intrigued me and it only got better inside.  When I told someone I encountered in my travels that I was going to this museum, I found the commentary to be quite interesting.  “Lots of crazies have done the artwork there.”  Hmmmm.  Of course I thought of Van Gogh and other creative types that were considered mentally ill.  I think a certain amount of craziness does need to occur during the creative process. I’d go so far as to say that I can be pretty off kilter from time to time.  

But the nuttiness is really full on at the American Visionary Art Museum.  In most cases, the artist’s neuroses are openly revealed.  The day we were there they were showcasing an exhibition on OCD, called Obsessive Compulsive Delight.  Frank and I stood in awe before creations made from prolific doodling and collections of thrift (also known as hoarding) that had been assembled into masterful works.  When you’re a little out there, the mind gives free rein to the hand.  I’ll have to remember that the next time I begin a story.

The museum’s gift shop features an Ali Baba’s cave of collectibles of all kinds including books, games, jewelry, artwork and more.

I found this to be a wonderful way to wind up my stay in Baltimore, a traditional kind of town that also distinguishes itself by a multitude of innovative facets.  Frank and I had originally planned to take the water taxi from Fell’s Point to Harbor Place, but exploring a couple of other neighborhoods together provided much more of a local experience.  Plus it’s always nice to save something for next time, isn’t it?

The Admiral Fell Inn, 888 South Broadway, 410-539-2000, www.harbormagic.com/AdmiralFell

Duda’s Tavern, 1600 Thames Street, 410-276-9719

The Sound Garden, 1616 Thames Street, 410-563-9011, www.cdjoint.com

Meli, 1636 Thames Street, 410-534-6354, www.kalismeli.com

Spa Santé, 1429 Aliceanna Street, Suite 100, 410-534-0009, www.spasantebaltimore.com

Sabatino’s Italian Restaurant, 901 Fawn Street, 410-727-9414, www.sabatinos.com

American Visionary Art Museum, 800 Key Highway, 410-244-1900, www.avam.org

More Recommendations from My Charming Friends at Spa Santé

Pazo, 1425 Aliceanna Street, 410-534-7296, www.pazorestaurant.com; an immense, ultra-hip bar and restaurant done up in a nouveau Mediterranean decor.  You just might run into Michael Phelps here!

One-Eyed Mike’s, 708 South Bond Street, 410-327-0445, www.oneeyedmikes.com; a Grand Marnier Club in Fell’s Point, but of course!

Blue Moon Café, 1621 Aliceanna Street, 410-522-3940; a great place for breakfast but be prepared for a bit of a wait.

And One Great Venue that Frank and I Discovered

The 8 X 10, 10 E. Cross Street, 410-625-2000, www.the8×10.com; Baltimore’s hot spot for great music

Pondering Provence

A Quintessential Provençal Scene

Ahhhh, mid August.  Here in the mountains I’m already chagrined by a certain crispness in the air.  Fall and the first snows won’t be far off.  The weather has been glorious lately but I’m still longing for a blast of furnace-like heat, sweltering days that force me to retreat beneath a shade tree until the delightful oppressiveness of the day subsides and I can emerge to take in perhaps a cultural site or just sip a perfectly chilled glass of rosé on a terrace.  The desert isn’t far from where I live now and certainly it provides plenty of warmth.  But I am thinking of Provence.  Sun-drenched days, shady plane trees, a plethora of cultural offerings, delicious wines and so much more.

We are approaching le quinze août after all, the holiday of all holidays for Europeans.  Many people don’t even know that August fifteenth marks Assumption, a Catholic holiday that is hardly celebrated in Europe except for the fact that most everyone has the day off.  People typically take a whole week off around August fifteenth (if they can’t manage the entire month!).  So you can imagine it is the big vacation week of the summer, the biggest of the year in fact.

I have been in Provence during this period many times, battling crowds at the renowned markets of Saint-Tropez and Ilse-sur-la-Sorgue (you have to arrive early at these and most others).  Yet somehow I always managed and it was always worth it. 

But traveling to Provence in the fall offers a whole other experience.  Yes, you might still have difficulty reserving a table on the patio at the famed Oustau de Baumanière, but you won’t encounter the throngs of tourists that invade this most delightful region of France in July and August.  You’ll still find the weather to be glorious and the cultural offerings just as exciting.

Bea (on the rt.) with Le Mont Sainte-Victoire, Cézanne's Mountain, in the Distance

So why not consider a small, escorted tour composed of fellow travelers of discriminating taste?  I recently became in touch with Beatriz Ball, founder of Golden Bee Tours, a Brazilian-born woman that boasts a huge passion for France, especially Provence.  

The Golden Vineyards of Provence in Autumn

Since Bea’s Provence Arts and Scents Tour for the third week of September has sold out, she has decided to offer it the last week in September as well.  The highlight of this tour is certainly a guided visit to “Picasso-Cézanne,” a much-talked-about exhibition at the Musée Granet in Aix-en-Provence that explores Cézanne’s influence on Picasso.  Being ferried about a beautiful place with a delightful lady in the know—now that’s what I call a real vacation.

Bea, a recent guest on Travel Fun, chatted with me mostly during our interview about why so many artists have been lured to Provence over more than a century.  ”I remember being so impressed with the quality of light the first time I traveled to Provence many years ago,” Bea said.  Indeed the skies are so clear and vivid that they offer up a kaleidoscope of colors that changes throughout the day.  Certainly this is largely why Picasso, Cézanne and countless other artists sought to capture this region of France on canvas.  ”The region celebrates your senses,” Bea added and I concurred.  It didn’t take much for my thoughts to drift off to the ever present crick-crick-crick of the cicadas, the wafting smells of rosemary and thyme, the taste of a rich tapenade spread over crusty bread, the feel of rubbing a sprig of lavender between my palms, the vision of Abbaye de Sénanque in all its Romanesque splendor on a late summer’s afternoon.

Ah—haaaa.  Mid August.  I should either book a flight to France or go buy myself a nice bottle of Bandol and a few olives.  No wonder it has captivated so many people for so many years.

Thank you to Bea and LCI/CDT VAR for the use of the above images.

America the Beautiful

Upper Yosemite Falls, Yosemite National Park, California

I had been in Aspen most of off-season and didn’t return to Telluride until the tail end of Memorial Day Weekend which also marked the closing of Mountain Film.  Fortunately I arrived in time to catch the last film in the six-part series of “The National Parks:  America’s Best Idea,” by renowned documentarian Ken Burns.  I was truly captivated.  

I knew I’d see magnificent landscapes (which was part of the reason I wanted to see at least one segment on the big screen even though all will be aired on PBS this fall).  I didn’t imagine, however, that I’d feel so emotionally connected to this work.  Sure spectacular scenery and great vistas can be stirring, but it is largely the people that recount the many stories behind our national parks that moved me to tears.   Most of our more than fifty national parks were born out of the efforts of extremely perseverant individuals and small groups of people, hearty, committed souls determined to preserve some of the most extraordinary corners of our country.  Few of the parcels came easily and opposition arose from many factions including big business and government.

But as Ken Burns illustrates, our national parks (and national monuments and national forests) embody the spirit of our country.  These sites are also where some of our most significant family memories have been forged.  There’s a sense of nostalgia and familiarity evoked in both the old and new footage that makes up “The National Parks” and one can’t help considering many of the places featured like old friends even without having actually visited the location.  

National parks are an American invention—it’s no wonder this concept of preserving a place has been exported to almost every country on earth.  After eight years of considerable neglect and with interest that will surely be spurred by this fascinating documentary, we can only hope that our national parks will experience a surge of renewed interest.  “We’re fast approaching the centennial in 2016, “ Ken Burns said at the Tellluride premiere of this great work.  “This is a grand opportunity to reach people that haven’t been reached before.”

Biscayne National Park, Florida

The above photos were taken by Quang-Tuan Luong, a passionate photographer that has photographed all fifty-eight of America’s national parks.  Quang was also present at Mountain Film with Ken.  Be sure to visit his site to appreciate the full breadth of his work—it’s like taking a quick tour through our national parks!  You can also purchase his prints online.  And guess what?  Quang grew up in France.  I’ve found that it sometimes takes foreigners—often the French, in fact—to fully appreciate what we have in our own backyard.