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The best part of any vacation is the memories left behind.
Larry & I are heading south from the far north of Michigan through South Bend (Notre Dame!), bourbon country and the Cumberland Gap. We are eager to be back to our own pillows, those awesome SSI sunsets, our “routine”, and our friends. I can already see the view from the causeway!
But I can’t help thinking back on the highlights of the past five weeks: beautiful and varied scenic beauty (thank you, dear Larry, for planning another wonderful trip filled with beaches, mountains, lakes, history), amazing musical talent (definitely check out Billy Strings if you like Bluegrass), interesting people and their stories (the bartender, the B&B owner, the ex-prison guard, the couple from Toronto who knew one of LL’s business associates, the young people who haven’t been further than 100 miles from where they grew up).
Vacation memories. Pictures capture some of them. I like taking shots of signs we see along the way. They may be outright funny or odd and inexplicable, maybe reflecting local sentiments, or just signs we wouldn’t normally see in the Golden Isles. I’ve attached some to this blog to give you a flavor of what we saw.
Of course food is a big part of any vacation and sometimes the taste and flavors linger longer than the visual imagery of that perfect beach. This trip was certainly no exception.
I’ll start with morning coffee…logically. It’s a realllly important part of the day to many of us, especially LL. On last year’s road trip, not being a fan of hotels’ weak in-room coffee, he brought along his very own single cup Keurig machine & K-cups, plus his powdered creamer and any sugar packets he swiped at lunch stops. Every evening, he’d bring that little machine in from the car & get it all set up for the morning…until it broke about two weeks into the trip. This year, he opted for carrying a bag of his favorite Starbucks grind plus - again - the necessary condiments. Problem was, all the hotels now opt for those pre-packaged combo filter/coffee pack things.
So one morning, I look quizzically as LL goes back & forth from coffee maker to bathroom and back several times. Then I hear the little in-room pot start to sputter and steam. Doesn’t sound like it’s working quite right. I see something sticking out of the filter basket. “What’s that?" I inquire. Larry responds, “I decided to make my own filter using Kleenex.” I passed up the morning coffee.
Speaking of coffee, we discovered Tim Hortons in Canada. Kinda like Dunkin’ Donuts, but with more variety. They have the BEST coffee! We will definitely be on the lookout for them in the US…apparently 600 locations. Highly recommend them.
Lobster! We were so lucky to have fresh, local lobster several times on our trip. But, as we know here in Georgia, just because it’s local doesn’t mean it’s always cooked properly. That was not the case at the Rusty Anchor on the Cabot Trail in Cape Breton. Their lobster roll was ALL lobster. No wonder it has been written up in National Geographic – twice!
Canadian hamburgers are another story. At one point, LL had had enough of seafood and shellfish and just wanted a good ole burger. But it seems the burgers in Canada come all gussied up, like with bacon, sautéed onions, melted Mozzarella, special sauce and MORE! Seems there is a law in Canada that unless the meat is ground on-premise, hamburgers must be cooked well done. LL tried one without all the fixins’ and described it as a hockey puck. Clearly, hamburgers aren’t Canada’s forte.
Our 14 year old grandson had just come back from a school trip to Quebec City, so we asked him if he had any recommendations. “Poutine!” he exclaimed. Poutine is french fries covered with a light gravy and cheese curds. “You can get it with meat!!” So, one foggy day we stopped for lunch at a picturesque lighthouse/restaurant. There on the menu was LOBSTER poutine and we gave it a try. When I texted a picture to said grandson, saying “Here’s Poppy eating lobster poutine”, his reply was, “That’s fancy poutine. You need to get fast food poutine.” Poutine is fine. A bit heavy and rich for our tastes. Lesson: don’t take dining advice from a 14 year old boy.
But seriously, you can dine very very well in Quebec City. Get away from the tourist haunts and you will find menus and flavors that reflect Quebec and its French heritage.
A local specialty in the UP of Michigan are pasties. Pasties are chopped meat, onions, potatoes and rutabagas baked in a pastry shell, not unlike a very large, dry, empanada. We’d heard about pasties and seen the signs; everyone claiming to have the “real” and the “best” pasties. OK, I admit: we both had giggled like 10 year olds over the name “pasties." So one night, we order a pastie for dinner. The waitress half smiled, half grimaced. “We don’t have 'pay-sties'. We have 'pah-sties'.” Ooops! So it's all in the pronunciation... More giggles.
Not really a food story, but it was in the bar of the pastie restaurant where Larry & I struck up a conversation with an ex-prison guard on disability. Somehow the conversation turned to drug enforcement and whoa! He pulls out his little pipe and a baggie…for his disability, don’t ya know! He proceeds to explain that state laws allow him to grow 12 plants for himself and up to five additional patients. 72 plants. Suddenly I had a painful, unrelenting back spasm…….kidding.
Canada and Michigan are certainly beer country, that’s for sure! Larry discovered a new favorite IPA from Nova Scotia: Alexander Keiths. Liked it so much he bought the glass!
I didn’t have such great luck with wine. When I inquired about wine choices at dinner the first night in New Brunswick, the waitress pointed to boxes on a shelf and called off “chardonnay… cabernet…shiraz.” I was offered the same choices in a local bar as I watched the bartender mixing a Cosmopolitan while reading the recipe for it from a 3-ring binder.
…….
So.
6,436 miles.
Five weeks and we were seldom further than 20 feet away from each other.
We’ve loved our journey and all its experiences.
Our senses are full: The smell of the North Atlantic and the cool, fresh nights of northern Michigan. Vast hills, blanketed with flowers, rolling down to the seashore and sharp, colorful cliffs rising out of calm lakes. Sweet oysters only hours from the sea. Music filled with rhythm and melodies that have lasted hundreds of years. Interesting people who kindly shared stories of their life and livelihood.
But as we finally cross over the causeway, we see the bright green marsh grass, the sparkling water, the big sky with puffy summer afternoon clouds and it is so good to be home.
I hope you have enjoyed our journey as much as we did. Thank you to my friends at Elegant Island Living, particularly Kathi, for the hat and making this blog possible.
Until the next time... J
