Category Archives: Travel

Travel with us empty-nesters to places here and elsewhere.

Sunny Spain – November and December

Day 3 – A side tour to Ronda and Marbella

We pre-booked a tour to Granada to see the Alhambra, and decided that would be Monday’s excursion. But after talking to Irene at the front desk yesterday, we decided on two more tours–one to Ronda in the mountains and one to Gibraltar.   map_of_andalucia

We considered also going to Tangiers, but after reading the reviews on experiences others had there, we decided to forget battling vendors and being accosted for Euros and coins, and thought we could do this on a return trip if we wanted to chance it.

So today, our trip to Ronda started at a congenial 8:30 a.m. bus stop in Mijas, on our timeshare premises, and we boarded thinking this was a completely spontaneous trip that we knew nothing about.

The mountain top city has deep historic routes, and the tour promised a visit to a bull ring, its museum, some wine tasting, beautiful vistas and historic architecture.

But, before we even thought about what we would find in Ronda, we were rambling through the coastal city of Marbella, where we would stop for a more leisurely visit on the way back.

Leaving Marbella, we took in the rocky road, curving highway and moderate climb to the 2400 ft. elevation of our destination.

About midway on the roughly hour and a half ride, we stopped at a tourist respite for a bathroom break and a chance for pastry and coffee, which was an efficient operation where coffee was delivered buffet-style, in cups for black espresso and in glassware for our cafe con crema. I didn’t want to eat too much because I was still a bit unsure how well I would do if the mountain got steeper and the road curvier. But, I did opt for a flaky breakfast pastry in the end, and all was well on the rest of the ride.

We first got our bearings when the bus left us off at a terminal, and we saw that a walk through the city wouldn’t be too daunting or mysterious, and we could probably find our way back. We decided, at first, to stay close to the tour guide, but he was not very engaged, and we were a bit disappointed.  DSCN1946 (1)

What we did not expect, was making new friends, originally from Iraq, and who now lived in England. N and L were doctors, who had fled Iraq rather than fight with those who would eventually ransack their towns, dig up graves of their ancestors, and make it impossible to return. This couple were gentle of spirit and had a deep faith in Jesus. They were surprised we shared their faith, as they had wondered if any Americans were thinking of end times and being prepared for what they believe will surely continue to be an upheaval for Christians and Jews. They were encouraged that we shared their faith and their concerns.

We continued the guided part of the tour, seeing the bull ring, which was built in a Neoclassical architecture in the late 18th century,  and the museum,   DSCN1969 (1)         DSCN1962 (6)             DSCN2002 (1)

and hearing about how integral bullfighting is the the Spaniards and how revered the matadors are. The museum reflected that from the costumes, even an Armani designed matador costume, to the trophies and art. Entering the bull ring itself, there was an echo of times past and present in the air.   DSCN1959

As we traveled to the gorge area to look down on the El Tajo River, we were given a history of the area.  IMG_2326

Originally settled by the Celts in the 6th century, Ronda was part of the Roman Empire, and by the 15th century was dominated by the Islamic peoples, until conquered and deported by Christians around the time of the Spanish Inquisition. You can feel, from the guides telling of the story, that Christians aren’t the “good guys” in the minds of the Ronda conquered Spaniards, and the Christian influx into a city which had roots in Islamic architecture, thinking and people, was not welcome.  IMG_2312 (1)

Ronda, like many areas of Spain, has a mix of Islamic and Christian influence, and the roots for both go deeply into everything from its buildings to its culture and food. Unlike many of Europe’s cultures, Spain is a heady combination of so many extremes, it is impossible to take it all in in one visit.

There are three bridges in Ronda: Puente Romano (or Puenta San Miguel), Puente Viejo which is the old bridge or sometimes known as the Arab bridge and Puente Nuevo, which is the tallest, almost 400 ft. and overlooks the Tajos canyon, where some stories tell of Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls, featuring Spanish Nationalist militants being thrown over Ronda’s cliffs during the Spanish Civil War.  bridge-over-the-gorge-photo_14903772-770tall (2)

 

 

 

 

Unknown I suppose if we imagined ourselves in the Old West of America on a visit to a ghost town, or maybe a steamboat ride somewhere on the Mississippi, or even some of the Spanish missions in Texas, California, or New Mexico, we could get the rush of feeling you get when whoosed from the present back into these times, but really, we have nothing that feels centuries old, except the Rocky Mountains and the Sequoias.

But, it is hard to convey the extreme parting from the present one feels when enveloped in ancient history, surrounded by so much foreign information all at once.

We left the group to find a tapas lunch in town, and then strolled a bit by the bridges again, and talked to N and L about their journey.

When it was time to head back to Marbella and Mijas, we were so glad this was a tour we had booked.

In Marbella, we learned that this coastal resort in the Sierra Blanc is home or second home to many rich and famous, including the King of Saudi Arabia.
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On our return to Marbella, we rushed through the city trying to keep up with the tour guide, while detouring to get some gelato, and peeking into shops, then trying to find our group again so we wouldn’t be left behind for the bus ride back to Mijas

We arrived back at Los Amigos Beach Club, feeling overwhelmed and happy that we had entered into history with such magnificent sights.

Sunny Spain – November and December

Day 2 – Arriving in  Malaga for a wild ride to Mijas

Our flight to Malaga from Dublin was interesting for me, because my seat mate was Irish and I got a lot of insight into my lack of geographic smarts about her island.

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For one thing, I guess I always imagined Ireland being on the east side of England. It isn’t. This becomes interesting when you realize that the Brits like to vacation in sunny spots during their winter, just like we Americans do.  europe_map

But, the English have more choice of how to get to places like Costa del Sol, and because they are so close to land, they often drive through France to Spain, rather than flying. So, then they have a car with them. More about that later.

My Irish plane friend was flying to Malaga to be with her family for a holiday, which, evidently, they did regularly, since they actually had a vacation home in Malaga. That gave me some thoughts for the future.  Unknown

The flight from Dublin to Malaga was short, a little less than three hours, so I could see why this would be a regular plan for the Irish to escape the dreary chill of winter. I mean, it’s similar to how I feel going  from Hartford to Chicago (except without sunshine at the other end), which I do twice a year without a second thought. My bus ride from Chicago to Rockford is almost as long as the flight from Hartford.

On this Thursday in November, my hubby and I were traveling on Thanksgiving, which my Irish friend didn’t have to contend with. So I could see how this was not a big deal for her. We had left on Wednesday on a red eye to Dublin, so we ended up having a carefree transport on what would have been the busiest travel day of the year in the States. No such thing in Dublin in November.

In any case, we arrived without incident at the Malaga Airport, and our lovely concierge at our time share, Los Amigos Beach Club, had arranged for a taxi to meet us to take us the 30 minutes to ourMijas condos.

UnknownOur driver was waiting, waving a sign with our name on it–just like in the movies. I had never experienced this kind of a reception, and it took some of the anxiety out of being in a foreign country without knowing much of their language. No worries, most of the vendors and business people in Spain speak good English. As I have pointed out, it seems the short distance to Great Britain is just as appealing for the Spaniards, many of whom have been educated in England, and know its culture well.

We followed our somewhat reticent cab driver to his car, threw in our bags and seated ourselves, including belts. Good thing. This was the end of the carefree transport for this day. The wild ride through Malaga to Fuengirola and parts westward was terrifying.

Even my racer husband had a little concern. This driver seemed less familiar with the route we were taking than probably his normal fares, and he drove with jerks and sharp turns that kept us thankful we were in the back seat, and not the “death seat” beside him.    2316316_127_z

Finally, we arrived at Los Amigos Beach Club, and then another problem arose. We wanted to use our credit card, but he wanted cash. We had not exchanged dollars for Euros yet, and his 50 Euro fee was not something we wanted to do in dollars. We handed him our Visa Card and insisted. He reluctantly took out his credit card machine, but became very agitated when we did not have a PIN number. We had the chip card, but it was not an updated version that required a pin.   Unknown

The driver spoke  little English when it came to financial concerns, and we had no way to explain. Thankfully, the Los Amigos manager, Elton, was at the desk, and fluently explained why our card had to be used the old-fashioned way and not with the front insert devicethe new cards use.Unknown-1

We paid the driver, all was well, and we learned that tipping is not customary in Spain for taxis, hotels, restaurants or other services. They just don’t do it, except on rare occasions when a tour guide or service is so outstanding, a thank you is just in order. Given that we were losing about $15 on the $100 with the exchange rate, it worked out well that we saved that 15% in tipping, so we balanced out.

2316316_125_z   Once all the financials were settled, we were greeted by our concierge, Irene, with a hearty “Welcome home!,” which really did make us feel at home, right away.

It was about 3:00pm and after unpacking, we were anxious to cross the street (320 yards) and walk on the beach–the Mediterranean at Faro (lighthouse) Playa (beach) in Mijas. This was going to be the only 70 degree F day of our 10 day trip, so we wanted to make sure we got to the beach.  DSCN1908

The beauty of the Sea is breathtaking, but this, in November, was not the beach we had imagined. No one was sunbathing, and really, the narrow beach wasn’t a sunbathing haven, probably even in summer.

We had our walk, enjoyed being in light jacket weather in November, and were thankful, even without, bathing temps. We picked up small rocks on the very rocky sand, imagined giving them to grandchildren, and generally unwound from our crazy cab ride. The beach is narrow, and we enjoyed seeing the lighthouse around a hilly area.

DSCN1911What we did discover was a lovely seaside restaurant, Faro Playa, which also means lighthouse beach, where we decided to have dinner.      DSCN1921DSCN1909
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After changing to dinner clothes back at the very luxurious condo, we walked back across the highway and didn’t need reservations to be seated on the patio with the lovely view. We saw that this restaurant was closing December 1, like so many businesses do for the winter on the Costa del Sol, so we wanted to eat here for the few days we had until then, since it was the only place we knew (at the time) in walking distance to Los Amigos.

We ordered fresh sea bream (dorado), a whole fish prepared beautifully, but with bones. The small side salad and fried potatoes were ordinary. The experience was muy bueno! Not great, but well done, and with the terrace view, who can complain? The swordfish also looked good, which we decided to try another time.

restaurante-faro-playa     restaurante-faro-playa-1

On another night, we ordered the pork filet in pepper sauce, also with the side of peas and carrots and fries, and it was also tasty, and really a little more expertly done than the fish. We learned to order this dish from our British friends, who seemed to favor this and ordered it as fil-let, not fil-lay–but then, you haven’t met them yet.

DSCN1918 We walked a little more on the shore after dinner, taking in the beauty of the Mediterranean and counting our blessings.

Walking back to Los Amigos, discovering the tunnel route, rather than the highway above ground crosswalk, we felt we could get used to this.

We visited Irene, at the front desk, exchanged $100 for 85 Euro, then retired early to a comfy bed, since this had been a long day. 16446682

We watched television a little, which gave us a chuckle, since all of the English shows were BBC. We took in a couple of British cooking episodes, and then slept well.

Sunny Spain in November and December

I think the simplest way for me to chronicle our amazing trip to the Costa del Sol, is to diary it, and take you along with us–after the fact, of course. So I will begin:

Day 1 and before – Guiness for breakfast anyone?

Our first challenge was figuring out how to get to Logan International, because our usual travels are from Bradley, where we have parking. We didn’t want to leave a car parked for the 10 days, because winter can make starting a car up tricky. There was a time we almost didn’t get the car started. That isn’t fun at night or early morning where other transportation options are thin.   Unknown

So, having mentioned this need to a co-worker, who does Logan frequently, we found out that our company has a deal with Avis for one way, if the car is dropped off within a few hours. Great perk. Other rentals for one-way additional charges, were going to cost upwards of $150. Problem solved. We got an Avis car for $42. So now we were ready to go.

Unknown-1   We boarded Aer Lingus for Malaga, via Dublin–amazingly less expensive than a trip to South Dakota. Of course hubby’s first thought is that even with a 5am arrival, he had to have a Guinness, served by an Irish colleen,  with whatever else he would have for breakfast.

When we first arrived at Dublin Airport, it was so early hardly any workers were there.  Unknown

By the time we read the very confusing signs, and watched the other travelers scurry away to their connections and/or Dublin destinations, we were left at a fork in the road (corridor) with no idea whether we were the “Euro passport” people or not, and therefore had no idea where we were going.

This was a problem, because our short hour and a half was dwindling and hubby really, really wanted that Guinness,  the likelihood which at this hour looked like a no-go, since no food stands were in sight. Only the lonely pathway to or away from “Euro Passport” travelers.
We walked quite a way away from that sign, and were grateful at last to see a guy with a motorized cart. Since it was Ireland and not Spain, we had hopes of directions.   IMG_2291

His look when we queried him, bespoke that we were not the first lost passengers. He good-naturedly motioned for us to climb onto the cart, and he wheeled us to our gate area–where, behold, we found food AND Guinness! Several croissants, scones and a pint later, we boarded the second plane for Malaga, very happy indeed.

 

Della Mae – Bluegrass worth the ticket

It was a circuitous route that led us to hear Della Mae at Payomet’s satellite venue, an Elk’s Lodge in Eastham, Cape Cod, MA, but this is a circle we were thrilled to travel.  th-2

We got to Della Mae because we heard Delbert McClinton, also new to us, on Imus in the Morning. We just loved his singing style and music. Learning he has a website, amazingly named merely www.delbert.com, we found that he was scheduled to be in a line up in Cape Cod.   th

We were planning to spend a few days in Eastham, MA (inThe Cape) in May. But, alas, Delbert wouldn’t be there till August on a Tuesday, no less.

We usually stay at The Town Crier Motel in Eastham, and what we found delightfully surprising, was that Della Mae was going to be performing at the Orleans-Eastham Elk’s Lodge, under the auspices of Payment Performing Arts Center, the exact May weekend we would be there.

dellamae-9135rgb    So, although we couldn’t attend the concert for Delbert on a Tuesday in August at the regular performing arts venue, Payomet, we decided to try out the Della Mae concert at the Elk’s lodge.   th-1

I called Payment, got tickets, bought an annual membership to Payomet, imagining we might make the three hour trip to The Cape more often,  now that we have a whole new perspective on things to do, and relished getting to hear a fairly new bluegrass combo of five women.

What a great delight they were to hear! The five formed their bluegrass group in Boston about five years ago, and are now based in music-city–Nashville. Evidently meeting from various places as far apart as Colorado, British Columbia and Nashville, they discovered they sound really, really good together.

We agree. Celia Woodsmith, the lead singer and guitarist, from Boston, has a throaty, high-energy, charismatic style, and can evoke a lot of emotion in traditional numbers like 16 Tons, and original music like Boston Town, and the Eco Song. Jenni Lyn Gardner, the only member actually from Nashville, does some strong lead singing, but it’s her mandolin, along with Kimber Ludiker’s violin, that brings up the Celtic flavor of the combo’s modern, yet classic-bluegrass, and we were transported to the new and popular Brigadoonish Outlander series. Courtney Hartman, the Coloradian, is also mulit-talented on guitar, banjo and vocals. A fifth member, Zoe, from British Columbia, is no longer listed as a member of the group, but was there with excellent fiddling for our May concert.

3503525839-1     Della Mae now has three albums, the newest one this year (2015), is titled Della Mae, and Woodsmith says is “edgier” than some of their earlier recording. Their other two albums include grammy-nominated, This World Oft Can Be. Let’s just say if you want a delightful evening of heart-pumping bluegrass, get to their website and see when they will be at a venue near you. It’s well worth the ticket, and you may have to stand in line soon as they gain in following and popularity.

Good Mexican food in Enfield, CT

Spending 17 years in Southern California kind of spoils a person with it comes to really good, even inexpensive Mexican food.

taco-loco      Places like Taco Loco in Laguna Beach satisfy the gourmet with their amazing fish tacos. And, for a more upscale experience, Las Brisas in Laguna, fills the bill.

Even chains like El Torito Grille, roadside stands and the out-of-the-way family-owned little “holes in the wall” give patrons the authentic experience, almost in any city in SoCal.

So moving to Enfield, CT was an adjustment, looking for good, authentic Mexican, not Tex-Mex cuisine.   tt-15

The Taqueria Tavern in West Hartford gave us quite a few great meals, until they closed recently. It was a distance to get to just for a quick Mex meal, so we didn’t do it often. That makes me feel bad that we may have contributed to the demise.

264721_401710439878062_119125761_n     We found it at Acapulcos Mexican Family Restaurant & Cantina, right here in Enfield, and we will not be strangers.

This restaurant’s goodness could be because co-owner, Ruben Huerta has all the family values needed for the ambiance and service, and all of the Southern California food experience needed to bring us the real thing.

Acapulcos, at 61 Palomba Drive, isn’t as easy on the pursestrings as some of the little places in CA are, but we have always felt our dollar well-spent there.

The mole is delicious, the seafood fresh, the Margarita’s yummy, and the table-side guacamole–a little nod to the upscale, modern Mex fare–is a lot of fun and very good.    Unknown-2

Taqueria Tavern, while it lasted, was our fave. Dave ran a hospitable Mex cocina and tavern, and we always felt like family there. But the hike to get there from Enfield was a deterrent, so we were grateful to find Acapulocos to fill the void left by the taqueria and our being spoiled by Southern California and its plethora of choices.

 

Asian cuisine excellence in Granby?

Who would think we would find the best Asian cuisine we have experienced in six years in New England in Granby, CT. Yet we did.

As a former Southern California food critic, I have to say my New England choices for Asian cuisine have been plentiful but mostly disappointing–until this week when we happened into Han Asian cuisine in Granby.

This eatery was far and away the best Asian food we have had in six years here in Connecticut, and maybe one of the best anywhere in the best of’s we have had in California, New York, Illinois, Wisconsin, and Massachusetts. We haven’t been to China, but my ex is Chinese, so I consider myself somewhat of a connoisseur. The only one, perhaps better, or at least equal, was in Idyllwild, CA at a restaurant which boasted President Nixon’s personal chef.

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In Granby, at Han Asian Cuisine, Owner James Chen is intimately involved in everything about his patrons’ dining experience.

We had a new server, Dana, who was a bit nervous about pleasing, but did a great job of making our evening pleasant.

James stopped by our table twice to make sure all was well, and to approve our up-charge for pineapple rice, with our two Chinese dishes which were usually served with plain rice.

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My husband chose a sizzling platter of vibrant, colorful steak, scallops and shrimp in a rich, brown oyster sauce that was so flavorful, I almost regretted getting my pork spicy coconut curry, which was also very tasty, especially with the pineapple rice to add a touch of sweetness to the spicy curry, also a colorful dish, served in broth in a soup bowl.

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Both entrees were beautifully presented, and steaming hot, as was every dish we spied from other tables. The chef has the artistic flair Chinese cuisine is known for, and the food doesn’t have that American mishmash so many refer to as Chinese food. This is the real deal in taste, freshness and artistry.

We dined on the patio, which on this balmy Thursday evening, made us glad we had just returned to our Connecticut home from the Valley in sunny (and hot) Los Angeles.

I am totally confident in giving an unqualified recommendation to Han Asian Cuisine to anyone wanting fine dining for Chinese, Thai or Japanese, including sushi, fare.

We didn’t need a reservation on this Wednesday, but as the word spreads, I would bet on a weekend their will be a need for them.  Congratulations, James, for giving our region a gem of an Asian restaurant.

They even have free WiFi, but everyone I saw was busy eating their delicious food–not wasting time texting as at so many ho-hums places. We too, forgot our cell phones, and dined sumptuously.

We will be back–often.

Mystic has mystique and more

Hubby and I tend to avoid looking and feeling like tourists. But the reality is, you have to visit a place often enough to get to know what it has to offer–and then you can proceed to getting to know some locals and getting their feedback about life there.

Mystic, Connecticut is a place we love to visit.

After about a dozen visits in six years, we are finally getting the hang of hanging out in Mystic. There was a learning curve, worth every visit, every moment there.  data=VLHX1wd2Cgu8wR6jwyh-km8JBWAkEzU4,j8oDDkklR6vV-vTmxY31nEcl5-cnadQs6dhmxufzJTYDae85eNDlxFQ-WpT8Ag9JJeMNkowYg1ysQLVOx10upLMATX3XvMgoisWf1MGSYTHorv2ABOrW6KIoOsfv3wc3PIwDNItlhH1hkKpg7UxbNajD0Hhou_-roWgEt4u4oHPzEgVRVNhefm0l0sECxMyU9gHtrBWo

Our introduction to the seaport area was a birthday surprise for me from hubby dear. He knew I like to play the slot machines on occasion, so we stopped for a couple hours at Foxwoods Casino and played the pennies (with our $50 limit). incentive

Then we left Foxwoods on that sunny July afternoon to meander the winding back roads leading to the seaside town of Mystic. We were headed for the only thing strangers have ever heard of there: Mystic Pizza. It was a great surprise. The pizza was wonderful, the service fun and friendly, and the Julia Roberts movie–of which the establishment says: “We’re the pizza that made the movie famous,” was playing on looped closed circuit TV’s around the dining area. mystic-pizza-intro-3

Our next visit was, in spite of our best intentions, as tourists, where we researched “things to do” in Mystic and found quite a few. We visited the oldest steam-powered cider mill still existing in North America, http://www.bfclydescidermill.com and afterwards, went to Mystic Seaport, http://www.mysticseaport.org, had fried clams, and noticed (for another time) the Mystic Aquarium. And, of course, we returned to Mystic Pizza for our evening meal.

The next few times we found wineries, B&B’s, and by then had obtained a membership to Mystic Seaport, so we could enjoy a whole day there, and we also discovered Bartleby’s, http://bartlebysmystic.com, one of the local coffee shops, which became another destination for us.  store_front_sm

We joined Mystic Aquarium, http://www.mysticaquarium.org and tried that visit the next time, but halfway into touring the place, I became so dizzy and “seasick” from the parabolic glass surrounding me, we had to leave. Aquarium’s are fun, but evidently not for the alternating dominant visioned, in spite of the grand colors and displays of exotic fish.

Subsequently we watched the progress of the Charles W. Morgan, the last wooden whaling ship in the world, as it was being restored, having been in the Seaport’s shipyard since 1941. In six years, we have enjoyed boarding the ship, watching the craftsmen restore her, and were excited to know the ship was reading for launching in 2013. Now the CWM is sailing Coastal New England in summer of 2014. The historical restoration is fascinating, and quite remarkable. http://www.mysticseaport.org/visit/explore/morgan.  d2013-07-0619_11-315x209

CHARLES-W.-MORGAN_March-2014

1841   and March, 2014

I even bought Jay a day of sailing for his birthday–which took him to Newport, Rhode Island for the day, even though sponsored by the Seaport in Mystic.

But since we are now in the process of buying a home in Connecticut, our travels have been curtailed except for California, Florida (usually business but we work in visits), and of course my semi-annual trips to Rockford for my client there, and because we are still selling a home there. And, since we have done the tourist thing, we are ready to call Mystic more than a place to visit. It is a weekend destination, for more than a couple of times a year.

What that has done for us, strangely, is to make us interested in the tourist attractions, familiar enough to get to know people there. Now, instead of touring the Seaport, the Aquarium, getting Mystic Pizza, and seeing the Cider Mill again (although its wines and ciders are worth stopping by), wonderful as these places have been. we have decided to explore like locals–even though we’re still either doing a day trip, or finding a hotel.

Last month, we got to Mystic on Thursday evening  and combed the Internet for reviews of coffee in Mystic–deciding that maybe Bartleby’s, great as it is, wasn’t the only brew in town. Sure enough, we found it wasn’t even the shop with the most stars. My daughter has convinced me that Yelp is a must, so we perused the reviews and decided to try a place more off-the-beaten-path on Steamboat Wharf because they were also local roasters.

We arrived at the wharf but were stymied about where the roasters were. At the address we had, we only saw the Green Marble Coffee House. We grabbed a local walking that way and asked him where the roasters were. He smiled and said he was on his way there–and we realized it WAS the Green Marble. Come to find out, the Green Marble is the consumer cafe where the roasters serve their coffees, teas, and many other goodies. Our local told us The Green Marble had hundreds of coffee choices–unlike only several at Bartleby’s, which is good, but limited. And the Green Marble coffees, he assured were really fresh.

http://www.greenmarblecoffee.com. (read about their beans.)

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Wow, were we glad we found Green Marble. Not only was this amazing, freshly roasted coffee, but the clientele, all local, were fun.

Table space on this Friday morning was sparse, so we sat down next to another couple, who lived in the area, but had formerly lived close to where we are, and he was a fellow employee before retirement of where my hub works. So we had a lively conversation, and really felt like we had made friends. We even shared church stories, and were delighted to say Happy Easter to those who shared this celebration. Thai food seems to abound in Mystic, so we did Thai for dinner, which was on the early side, since three hours at a coffee shop tends to merge into lunchtime. Saturday morning we repeated our coffee find and spent some time driving around the area, enjoying the sea area homes. Our Green Marble friends suggested gelato at Mystic Market, http://mysticmarket.com since we had complained no gelato shops were found yet by us. So we headed over there.

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We found Mystic Market East on the hill, on Route 1, and enjoyed perusing the food cases of extensive gourmet grocery and bakery items. We went to the gelato counter, ordered from friendly staff, and sat down to our pistachio and chocolate treats. Here is where I have a major complaint. This gelato had been made fresh, but then was stored and brought out in rotation so that the really fresh ice cream could be stored next. What a disappointment. It tasted a little less wonderful than the containers we get from Big Y grocery store. If we wanted gelato that has been stored, we can buy that at home.

Word to Mystic Market: Make yours special!

Saturday afternoon, we headed for home, looking forward to Easter in Southwick.

But all in all, Mystic had become ours, more so than we had imagined. We shall return

Sturbridge and the Willys

Having been in New England now for almost five years, we decided on a staycation in Sturbridge Village over Thanksgiving weekend.

Actually, we had a Groupon for a hotel in Sturbridge, which I remembered at Stockbridge (I do get these easily confused). After explaining to Jay that we’d be staying at the Red Lion Hotel, then go to Norman Rockwell (which frankly we have done enough, I mapped the route from our home, and realized it wasn’t Stockbridge at all.

It was Sturbridge, in the Sturbridge Village area, which we have never been to. The hotel was the Sturbridge Host Hotel and Conference Center. A good deal all around with discounted tickets to the historic village.

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But, it wasn’t until we were walking around the rustic, historic Massachusetts site that we realized why we felt so at home there: we both have ancestors from Massachusetts.

Jay’s more famous relative is Willy Dawes, the one who got through the lines to warn that “the British are coming.” Family lore has it that Longfellow knew it was Dawes, not Revere who made it through, but that Paul Revere sounded better in a poem. Hmm. Also the family says Willy pretended to be drunk, so got through–but that he probably didn’t really need to pretend. Jay’s Granny Mac, recently died at 101, and was the oldest living Dawes, of the William Dawes Who Rode legacy.

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Quite a family history, Dawes is, including the VP under Coolidge, Charles Dawes. Anyway, that is Jay’s Willy.     Image

Mine, who may or may not have as illustrious a claim to fame, was Willy Russell, a Massachusetts farmer from Cambridge, born in the 17th century, who lived in Concord, and decided to go to medical school and become a doctor. He was a handsome chap, the family says, and the women in the town would feign illnesses so they could get in to see the tall, dark doc. He ended up saying this was a lot of hooey, and went back to farming.

So we have Willy’s from Massachusetts, and felt that explained our at home feeling when we are in a historic Mass. locale.

We enjoyed many facts of our visit, including standing to watch the Shooting Match with those flint muskets, costumed and shooting at targets for prizes of sheep and such. I was standing next to Mike, from Torrington, and we had a lively conversation about his being a practicing Puritan. Fun.    Image

We had our pork loin with apples and pomegranate at the OxHead Tavern, on the hotel premises, a homey establishment with an illustrious history of its own. We loved the crackling fireplace, good service, good values and friendly people there, including a table visit by the manager, the aproned-Giuseppe Fasulo, who couldn’t have been more cordial.

The Sturbridge Coffee House (The Fireside Inn) in Fiskdale, up the road on Main Street, was also a real treat. Though perhaps not historic in its current form, we loved the coffee and treats, and had two breakfast there, wishing they were closer to us. We have a Panera and a Starbucks, but nothing like this homey place.

All in all, we felt like we had returned to our history, and at Thanksgiving, the perfect time to visit Mass. as descendants of the Mass. SOR (Sons of the Revolution) Willys.