Kings & Kolsch in Cologne
June 22, 2023 - Reading time: 5 minutes
The Cologne Cathedral took over 600 years to complete. It’s enormous. Too many stained glass windows to include them all here. 
The 3 Magi Kings who made the pilgrimage to see the infant Jesus have their bones buried there in a jewel encrusted golden tomb. Thus the image of 3 crowns is found throughout the city.
Sidewalk artists were working in the cathedral plaza on a piece featuring flags of the world. 
The Cologne Bridge is famous for the thousands of engraved locks placed there by couples who lock in their love forever then throw away the key in the Rhine River. James engraved our initials and sent me packing with the keys. It was really tough to find a spot, but we did! 
Then it was chocolate time! Lindt sponsors a multi-story chocolate museum with a bonus Ferris wheel. Wasn’t feeling the Ferris wheel, but the museum was tasty and informative fun. Amazed at the workers who hand paint chocolate into the intricate molds. 
There are many places in Cologne that reminded us of Rainbow Row back home in Charleston. 
I had enjoyed more wine than intended the evening before, which left me feeling like the sign in the window below:
But hope was not lost. A hearty day of walking left me feeling better and ready to partake of Cologne’s famous Kolsch, a light, crisp beer made fresh in breweries throughout the city. Shout out to our guide, Ross, both a former marine and former resident of Charleston who has lived in Cologne for 8 years. He did a great job teaching us about “all things Kolsch” at five local breweries.
Then we set sail for the next port. The chocolate factory with lighted Ferris wheel were lovely in the dusky sky. 
Kicking it in Kinderdijk
June 21, 2023 - Reading time: 2 minutes
Toured one among 19 windmills that were built in the 1700’s. They still work! Learned that families lived in each one all those years ago to maintain operation.
Spent a lovely day sailing after the windmills tour. Livestock (horses, cows, sheep) drink from the river in several spots which was really neat to see. Took a break in the late afternoon for traditional Dutch tea time. Yum! 
Amsterdam Day!
June 19, 2023 - Reading time: ~1 minute
By the numbers: we took 15,000 steps today, enjoyed one beautiful open boat canal cocktail tour, dodged countless bicycles (they are EVERYWHERE), ate a 4 course dinner and viewed one stunning sunset on the river cruise rooftop. A fantastic first day!
Hot Lanta Happenings
June 18, 2023 - Reading time: ~1 minute
When the layover is 4 hours in the international terminal, but you’re sooo eager for the cheese.
Rambling with Ryan to the Rhine
June 18, 2023 - Reading time: ~1 minute
Here we go! All smiles at the airport. Amsterdam or bust!
A Big Finish in The Big Easy
July 10, 2022 - Reading time: 22 minutes
Arriving back at my son's house near dinner time we opted for take out from Torchy's, as I realized despite staying several days in Austin over the past month that I had yet to obtain a taco from the iconic establishment. Yes, trying new foods was interesting, but taco consumption should be mandatory admission to Texas and to pass up on Torchy's in Austin would be a downright shameful sin. I rested up the next day while the fellas went back to their full time jobs. Moving at a leisurely pace, I did laundry and cleaned out the car for the last leg of the journey. A massive rainstorm, rare in Austin, struck as night fell and poor Zelda Cat hid in the house from the booming thunder. It took the three of us searching to locate her under the second floor sofa, crouched as far back as possible against the wall. Poor thing. She couldn't be coaxed with her favorite toy. The storm passed and the boys treated me to a homecooked meal on my last night in town. The house smelled so wonderful and my mouth watered. I couldn't wait to eat! It was a completely vegan meal, but I enjoy healthy dishes and I have to say, once again, they made a believer out of me with something I had previously written off: tofu. Like any food, proper preparation is key and they did an awesome job! The tofu was seared in avocado oil and served with jalapeño mac-n-cheese and poppy seed rice. As mentioned in a previous post, if you leave Austin hungry then it's your own fault. I departed for New Orleans the next morning, hugging my son goodbye before sunrise, and intentionally omitting mascara from my beauty regimen. I am so stinking proud of my kids, but damn is it ever tough on a momma's heart to have them all living so far away. As the sun rose magnificently over the Central Texas landscape, I did my best to snap a photo while driving and basking in the bittersweet gratitude of memories made that will last us all a lifetime.
I passed through Houston at morning rush hour and the Houstonites behaved themselves much better this time around. Everyone was courteous and no one tried to run me off the road. It turns out folks in Houston are in a much less hurry to arrive at work as they are to return home from it. I held steady in the gratitude mindset while making excellent time to New Orleans to spend the last leg of my epic travel month with my dear friend, April. When I first entertained the idea of driving across America back in January, she was one of my first encouragers. When I mentioned New Orleans as a potential "last stop" she enthusiastically volunteered to join me for a "gal pal" adventure to wrap things up. We had enjoyed New Orleans on previous trips, though not together. We had an absolute blast checking out jazz clubs and restaurants, both old favorites and newly discovered gems.
April booked us in the lovely Bourbon Orleans Hotel, smack dab in the heart of the French Quarter. The room overlooked the courtyard pool and was clean, comfortable, and spacious. The staff were exceptionally nice, too. But, what a great location! We parked the car upon arrival and with exception of two brief Uber rides, we walked everywhere for those three days admiring the architecture, the parks, the floral landscaping, the sidewalk art and of course, the people.
There is a vibe to New Orleans that is distinctly it's own and it's nothing short of delightful. From the impromptu street parades and performers, to the joyful jazz spilling into the air, and the colorful characters at every turn, there's a spirit of celebration for life itself that fills the senses and the soul all at once.
With all the walking, we harbored zero guilt when it came to filling our bellies. The first night, we dined at Curio, sitting at the bar. I ordered a Hurricane cocktail to kick things off and enjoyed a delicious dish of red beans and rice, topped with Cajun chicken and jalapeño hush puppies. I only remembered to snap a photo after mixing it all together and digging in! Afterwards, we popped into a few souvenir shops here and there on the way back to the hotel before calling it a day,
The following morning, rested and refreshed, we enjoyed brunch at the Red Slipper. I had the Florentino omelet with grits and we toasted to the possibilities that lay ahead with a pair of mimosas. The weather was hot, but thankfully not oppressive. We beat the midday heat with several hours at the hotel pool before cleaning up for an early 5:00 dinner at Pierre Maspero's to get ahead of the sundown dining crowds. This would be the reminder meal that I was truly back in the South, as I opted for a fried green tomatoes starter, followed by blackened red fish over stoneground grits and sautéed veggies. Yes, grits, twice in one day. I am ALL about my grits, and y'all, they did not disappoint.
April purchased tickets months ago for the late performance at Preservation Hall, an experience that was on both our bucket lists, and we had some time to kill after dinner before showtime. We encountered a parade on the way back to Bourbon Street. So fun! April found herself adorned with a string of gold beads as they passed, but later promised her hubby on the telephone that she had done absolutely nothing to earn them except stand there and smile. I can confirm. Then we ducked into a little dive called Hideout Bar. It was appropriately named for the moment because seconds later the sky let loose and started pouring. Standing bar side to order drinks, I was amused by the jovial bartender training a newcomer in the mixology proportions of their specialty cocktails. He showed her how to mix my "Cucumber Refresher" with thin, fresh shavings. As he proceeded with a similar demonstration for April's "Bourbon Street Lemonade" he noticed the bottle of vodka contained slightly more than the full shot he had already poured into the shaker, so he simply shrugged and dumped in the remainder of the bottle, prompting a wide grin from the trainee and me. Jovial AND generous! Does a New Orleans bartender really need any other qualifications?
And then the highlight of the trip was upon us: Preservation Hall. They don't permit photography during the show, but allowed us to snap a pic of the stage beforehand. This historic venue is tiny. Perfectly, intimately tiny. There are 3 flat benches up front with seats for eight on each, as well as a slightly raised platform in the back for standing only patrons. April insisted on treating us to front row, center stage. We were positively giddy with anticipation. Seven gentlemen entered, took their places on stage and picked up their instruments. The band leader on trumpet, standing directly in front of us, looked left and right over his shoulders to see that all were set for the call and count. April leaned over to me and whispered with a smile, "Are you ready?" It was going to be joyfully loud and we knew it. I have been lucky in my life to hear excellent jazz music on several occasions, but this was a 45 minute jazz experience like none other. Outstanding is an understatement. The small crowded space, combined with the humidity of the recent rain burst, found that music filling the hot room, then dripping and hanging in the air like a musical magic spell. Along the way we learned about the extremely talented band. Two of them were university professors of music (trumpet and piano) and two others were Grammy Award winners (trombone and clarinet). Among the songs I recognized were "What a Wonderful World," "Hey, Good Lookin'," and of course, "When the Saints Go Marching In," the upbeat culminating classic for nearly every jazz performance in New Orleans. The band leader gave us a bit of history before a few of the songs and aptly joked after one noting, “I’m gonna tell y’all something: the piano player’s fingers don’t ever run out of breath.” It was a performance I will never forget. And if you leave New Orleans without the tune of saints marching in bouncing about in your brain well, then you did it wrong.
And yet, when it was over, we stood on the sidewalk, gushing, but also wondering, "What next?" Our hearts were pumping for more joyful, authentic jazz. But how does one follow an act like that? We came awfully close with our discovery of a pub nearly a stone's throw away: Fritzel's on Bourbon Street. Passing by in search of a just right sound, we knew we had discovered a gem. It's a small venue housing a bar that's been in existence for over 50 years. The best kind. Their website describes the jazz band as one that "brings the energy, enthusiasm, and spontaneity" every night of the week. We wholeheartedly agree! It was the perfect place to settle in, sip on spirits, and enjoy stories in songs such as "great Aunt Harriet up in heaven - sitting that old rocking chair - and how blessed we'll all be to someday sit up there." We stayed for several hours before reluctantly deciding around midnight to close out our historic night and pace ourselves for the fun yet to come.
The next day we took an Uber near the port to view the wonders of Mardi Gras World, a year round functioning workshop and museum dedicated to the creation and preservation of parade floats that adorn the streets of New Orleans annually before the season of Lent. It was fascinating to watch the artisans sculpting larger than life works out of enormous blocks of styrofoam. They cover the foam with paper-mache before painting and applying a clear coat for brilliance and shine. The results are ridiculously effective at invoking whimsy and I just can't think of a more fun career! There were too many photo ops to include, so I picked a few of the many we took.
We returned to the French Quarter via trolley, which I hadn't done in over a decade, to once again enjoy an early dinner. Our destination was a local place off the beaten path that April had unearthed on her last trip to NOLA called Port of Call. They are known as "the best burger in town" and she wasn't kidding. Calorie counting is not allowed here and why would you want to? We ordered both our cheeseburgers and our baked potatoes in the style of "fully loaded." They were delicious. I will absolutely dream about that cheeseburger until I return for another.
Frenchman Street is a short hop from Port of Call, so we walked off dinner on our way to The Spotted Cat, a venerable favorite joint for us both and an obligatory stop on any trip to New Orleans. It's another pocket-sized setting, but what it lacks in space it makes up for in personality. The ladies' room is a "one-at-a-time" with colorful murals adorning the walls and a full sized painted upright piano adjacent to the toilet. Where else are you going to find that? Have a tinkle, indeed. As early arrivals, we snagged the best table in the house (there are only 4 of them!) and enjoyed their jazz band for the next 3 hours as night fell over the city. It was an early Thursday evening, with not many people about just yet. Most folks were most likely heading home from work or enjoying dinner. But, shortly after sunset, The Spotted Cat now dimly lit, an elderly gentleman entered. He was dressed to the nines in a black top hat and tails, hunched over an illuminated walking cane wrapped in tiny green lights. He nodded to the band members as they continued to play and took a seat on the unoccupied piano bench next to the stage. No one had yet to grace the small dance floor, but without warning, the gentleman stood up and commenced to twirling his cane all about and shuffling his feet in a jig. Those of us witnessing this delightful display simply marveled at his exuberance, bursting ourselves into cheers and claps of approval. It was a sight to behold. I turned to April and pronounced, smiling ear to ear, "Well, I can die happy now!" "Me, too!" she exclaimed right back, "Me, too!" This serendipitous performance was like the cherry atop the ice cream sundae of the entire trip for me. And I was honored to speak and dance with him briefly before his departure.
It was my last night before heading home. I knew in my head the trip was drawing to a close and now my heart was feeling it, too. It was time. And here was this sweet old fella relishing every bit of energy in his bones to feel joy and to share joy. And it was working. I was suddenly struck with emotions and the metaphor that New Orleans had given me: while playing jazz, there are moments in each song where the musicians take turns with a solo feature, all the while being accompanied by their fellow bandmates playing in softer, muted tones in a show of respect and support. They all take turns. They all encourage. And the audience claps in appreciation of each solo effort. Afterwards, the song closes with a big finish. And it's SO BIG and so joy filled. This month long journey has been exactly like that - a joy filled balance of solo moments and moments accompanied by the people I love who encourage and support me. And I'll just keep singing and dancing along with the music until the big finish, 'til the saints go marching in, confident in the tune we're all playing together.
