Embraced by the verdant Euganean Hills, an archipelago of conical-shaped peaks dating back some 35-million years, the thermal baths of Abano Terme, just 54 km southwest of Venice, form the oldest and largest benessere (wellness) center in Europe and, arguably, the world. Specializing in fango-balneotherapy, La Città Termale (The Thermal City) has an ancient, mythical past.

A blend of marshland and forest, sulfulreous waters sprang spontaneous millennium ago in bubbling, cauldron-like springs, creating a lake that covered the near earth as far as the eye could see. A phenomenon of extraordinary proportions, this à ponus (Greek for relieving pain) reservoir, considered divine in origin, played host to cult ceremonies, complete with sacrifices offered up to Aponus, the god of thermal and curative water, and from whom Abano Terme derives its name.

Legend also has it that Hercules himself and his warriors soothed their battle-weary bodies in the miraculous waters in the land of Aponus. Many late-antiquity literary sources confirmed the fame of the fons Aponi during the imperial period of the Roman Empire, including Claudius Claudian, a 4th century AD poet, who waxed:

“…The soft soil sighs, and closed beneath the boiling pumice the wave digs flaky roads. In its midst, like a widespread boiling sea, a blue lake extends, spinning greatly, covering an enormous area.”

Geologically and geothermically speaking, these deep, underground spa waters originate some 80 km north up in the Lower Dolomites, seeping into the subsoil through the limestone. Reaching a depth of 3,000 m, where temperatures rise and the pressure increases dramatically, the mercurial water begins its slow — 25-30 years — flow until it bubbles up, at 87°C, in the Euganean spa basin. Rich in geothermal energy, dissolved substances and minerals make the spa water of Abano a truly unique thermal resource. Scientifically classified as hyperthermal bromo-iodine-salt water, these spa springs are just what the doctor ordered to treat a plethora of ailments, from skin conditions to osteoarthritis.

With over 75 spa-wellness hotels, 120 swimming pools, 50 tennis courts, a golf training center, an equestrian center and riding school, leafy residential streets, historical villas, loads of parks and gardens, haute cuisine and couture, and access to a network of cycling-walking-trekking paths and hiking and horseback trails, Abano is able to attract more than 250,000 overnight guests a year with an additional 2 million visitors stopping long enough during a calendar year to be statistically counted.

Thermal waters and therapeutic mud aside, what else attracts the curious to the city limits of this 20k+ person town?

For starters, its array of accommodations. Each of Abano Terme’s benessere hotels — from three-star comfort to five-star luxury, with half and full-pension options — taps directly into the rare, underground spa source, providing its guests with medically and professionally-monitored therapies and aesthetic treatments: from balneotherapy to fangotherapy, from hydrokinesitherapy to inhalation treatments, along with an array of beauty and relaxation programs. All fully recognized spa-wellness resorts are classified with the “I Super” qualification issued by the Italian Ministry of Health, guaranteeing your peace of mind.

The care and concern go even further at the Pietro d’Abano Spa Study Center — named in honor of Abano’s revered late 13th, early 14th century physician, philosopher, astrologer and alchemist — as experts continuously analyze and monitor the spa water and carry out systematic research into spa water medicines and the effects of fangotherapy.

After a full day of lounging around in your swimsuit and the hotel-provided white, Turkish towel dressing gown and slippers — pampering yourself with long soaks in tubs and pools of hot, ozone-enriched spa water; listening to calming music overhead while encased in an Euganean mud wrap; and, having your body turned every which way but lose by a masseuse — take that new-found glow out for a stroll along Via delle Terme, Abano’s high street.

Enjoy a bit of window shopping then stop for an aperitivo — bubbly prosecco or an Aperol spritz — at one of the many, lively outdoor cafés and just people watch until the ice in your glass melts away. Now, head back to your hotel, or out to one of Abano’s white tablecloth restaurants (I highly recommend Ristorante Verbena on Via Monteortone) for a gourmet dinner accompanied with a bottle of chilled Ca’ de Frate Lugana. When that first yawn appears, call it a night, turn in and sleep well, dreaming about doing the same regime all over again.

Any visit to Abano Terme should begin at the monumental entrance to Sorgente Montirone, the little park on Montirone Hill where the history of La Città Termale began. Located at the start of the pedonale (pedestrian-only walkway), at the corner of Via Augure and Via d’Abano, the Corinthian colonnaded gate leads you back in time to the very source from which the underground spa waters first bubbled to the surface.

It stands to reason that a town built solely around thermal-fired H2O would have plenty of fountains dotting the urbanscape, and you’d be correct. Along with just about every one of the town’s spa-wellness hotels sporting a water feature of some sort near their entryway, Greater Abano’s water features stand out and are open to the public. Two of the most popular are the circular Fontana di Arlecchino (Harlequin Fountain), the centerpiece along the pedonale, and Columbus Fountain in Piazza Cristoforo Colombo, the largest sculpture in all of Europe dedicated to the Genovese explorer-navigator.

Meander with the aponese through the Parco Termale Urbano (Thermal Urban Park), a master-planned, elegant green space — designed by the late Paolo Portoghesi, the world-famous, post-modern architect — with spacious apartment living in various complexes strategically placed above, and shops, outdoor cafés, tree-lined serpentine walkways, a cycling path, a kiddie playground and countless park benches below, that magically merge together down the middle of town, like tributaries forming up in a flowing green river. Host to many of the town’s festivals and celebrations, step out at the large fountain in Piazza dei Todeschini and end your passeggiata (walk) at its identical twin fountain in Piazza Dondi dall’Orologio.

Founded in 1989, the Parco Regionale dei Colli Euganei (Regional Park of the Euganean Hills) is the very first regional park of the Veneto and the protected home to 81 prehistoric-looking peaks of volcanic origin, that rise above flat, fertile agricultural land inside an elliptical perimeter covering approximately 19k hectares and enclosing 15 towns, including Abano Terme, one of its gateway communities.

Cyclists, runners and trekkers alike take to the E2 anello, a 68 km ring that circumnavigates the regional park and passes by undulating vineyards, olive groves, wheat and corn fields, irrigation waterways, castles, noble villas of the old Venetian Republic, religious sanctuaries and monasteries of historical significance. Add to that, 31 well-marked rustic trails that meander off the ring for bumpy off-road thrills and heart-pounding uphill climbs. It’s the perfect tonic if you’re looking to explore the great outdoors. Ask your hotel concierge for the use of one of their complimentary two wheelers, a map of the E2 circuit and then start pedaling.

Osterias, trattorias and farm-to-fork agri-restaurants (al Peraretto in Faedo comes to mind) await you at the end of a long walk, a strenuous hike or a vigorous bike ride; or, spend some time traveling along the Strada del Vino Colli Euganei (Wine Road) to sample some of the prized DOC-rated varietals harvested and bottled in the hills — bubbly serprino, dry moscato, fior d’arancio, cabernet, carmenere and merlot to name but a few — and cold-pressed extra virgin olive oils, on offer at numerous cantine (wineries) and frantoi (olive mills) that dot the route.

Be Herculean, come to La Città Termale and soothe your body, mind and nasal passages. Aponos will thank you.

Getting here

Abano Terme is conveniently located to four international airports, two major train stations and Italy’s vast autostrada (motorway) network. By air, choose between Venice’s Marco Polo Airport (55 km), Treviso’s Sant’Angelo Airport (70 km), Verona’s Catullo Airport (90 km) or Bologna’s Marconi Airport (110 km).

By train, the Terme Euganee station, in nearby Montegrotto Terme, is less than a ten-minute taxi ride from Abano Terme and serves as your hop-on/hop-off point for connections to/from Padova (10 min), Venice (45 min) or Bologna (70 min).

By car, driving the A13 Padova-Bologna motorway, take the “Terme Euganee” exit. Motoring in on the A4 Milano-Venezia motorway, exit at “Padova Ovest”.

For added convenience, private car or passenger van transfer service to any of the airports or train stations listed, or to plan day-trip excursions with a knowledgeable driver, can be arranged directly with A.R.T.E. Taxi Service, Tel. +39 049 667842. A one-way transfer from/to Marco Polo Airport in Venice, for example, costs €110.

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The property (which is part of a group of eight delightful, luxury hotels in Rome, Venice, and Florence) is owned and operated by the WTB Hotels Collection. (Why The Best, in case you are wondering.) And the head corporate honcho (chief timekeeper?) is a watch aficionado, who has infused each of his three L’Orologio properties with a unique décor that showcases a plethora of impressive watch-related accessories, sprinkled throughout the inspiring and comfortable design. You’ll never be too far from a dazzling timepiece.

The intimate (43 rooms and suites) Rome property sits comfortably in the Sant’ Eustachio neighborhood, not too far from Largo di Torre Argentina, the Pantheon, the Piazza Navona; it is across the Tiber River from Rome’s well-known Trastevere neighborhood (the former Jewish ghetto) and the Villa Farnesina, an impressive mansion built in the very early 16th century and one of the most majestic (remaining) Renaissance buildings in the city.

Upon entering this conveniently-located hotel, you’ll spot the watch theme immediately-large, elegant art works feature classy and classic watches. A lobby coffee table is actually a model of an outsize, imposing Audemars Piguet watch, a yard or more in diameter. So amazing, you may not want to rest your lowly water bottle on the surface.

Several other design elements will not escape you: The illuminated numbers above the elevator glow with back lighting. The black background showcases a white-outlined number, and inside that outline there is a panoply of watch gears and rotary parts. It’s a charming reminder that time marches not only on, but, also, up and down.

When you arrive at your floor, you’ll find the halls lined with stunning, oversize photos of “important” watches. And when you get to your room, you’ll note that the door sports not merely the room number, but a “proper moniker,” referencing a watch movement. In my case, it was room 203, dubbed 2499 Perpetual, honoring a striking Patek Philippe model; between 1950 and 1985, Patek manufactured fewer than ten, and John Lennon owned one of them.

Embedded in the bathroom mirror, there is also a handsome clock, supplying a bit of mechanical counterpoint to the stylishly decorated chamber. As is apparent, the owner and design team put a great deal of thought and heart into this hotel, all aimed to deliver maximum comfort of their guests.

You’ll find the chronometer theme expanded in the fifth-floor dining room, with its outdoor terrace, replete with panoramic views of the city, including the Pantheon.

The cocktail lounge, Santa Cocktail Club Rome, is located here, as well, and you’ll find that the drinks are artfully prepared with house-made reductions and fruity botanicals.

Enjoy a buzzy cocktail at sunset and when you come back in the morning for the plentiful breakfast buffet, you’ll discover the custom-crafted china, again, embellished with the watch theme. Against the snow-white, ceramic background, steel-gray numbers form staccato accents, with an occasional ebony cipher. The dinner plates sport a soft-gray clock face along the rim, inside the large “O” for L’Orologio. The design level is of the highest quality and the attention to detail is unsurpassed, whether in the dinner service or the ministrations of the staff-to organize custom tours for you or to even walk you across the street to the cash machine. Ask about the runners’ walking/jogging workout, an archeology and antiquities guided tour, a fashionista’s shopping extravaganza, or a film-location tour; or create your own guided day out, which the hotel will plan for you.

You will be pampered here, and suffice it to say, you’ll want time to stand still so you can stay forever-eternally cossetted in the Eternal City.

Additional info: hotelorologioroma.com

© 2024 Ruth J. Katz All Rights Reserved

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There are many sights to see on the road to Santiago, Spain, better known to pilgrims as St. James Way, or simply the Camino. Perhaps one of the most unusual I’ve experienced is Herreria de Compludo – the Forge of Compludo. Older than the pilgrimage itself, which became popular during the Middle Ages, the forge dates back to the seventh century.

Not only is Herreria de Compludo the oldest blacksmith shop in Spain, but it has been continuously running with a fire in the forge since then. It uses coal mined in the mountains to the north for fuel, and an ingenious system of waterpower to run everything else. It is a self-sustaining industrial marvel crafted before the dawn of the industrial age, back in the shadowy prehistory of an automation that was just a gleam in the first smithy’s eye. And it is the last vestige of a farming community nestled in a remote valley of Northwestern Castilla y Leon, Spain.

We hiked in on what was probably once a wagon road, a half-mile path winding in from the highway along a crystal mountain stream. The water swiftly descends into the valley while the path gently climbs the steep slope above it. The elevation can be misleading. As the path and stream separate a stone-lined causeway becomes visible between them, seemingly flowing up hill. The illusion ends as the path levels and it becomes evident that gravity channels the water into a small, natural-looking reservoir between the path and the stream below. Beneath the reservoir is the stone building that houses the forge. It is so shielded by the lush greenery of the forest that a casual hiker could pass it by. A small sign announces Herreria de Compludo.

We walked down a woods path to the clearing in front of the forge to meet the smithy, Manuel Sanchez. He, with his faithful German Shepard named Rex after the popular Spanish TV series of his youth, “Rex, un Policia Diferente”, that starred a German Sheperd police dog, broke the loneliness of this nearly abandoned setting. He is the fourth-generation smithy to operate this self-sustaining forge since his great-grandfather took it over in 1908. Manuel has traced the ownership back to the 1700s, but local histories place a forge at this site one thousand years earlier! With sections of the original stone building – probably the residence – collapsed, the moss and lichen covered forge looks its age. It is thanks to Manuel’s commitment and perseverance that people can still visit to see the ancient process of forging metal into plowshares and other tools.

Behind an outbuilding there was a pile of stones with a tree growing out of it that Manuel described as what was the shared oven for the once-thriving farm community. As a baker, after seeing how the forge worked, I wondered what marvelous system they used to have in place to heat the communal oven. But that is another story lost to the ages.

Behind us, the runoff from the reservoir spilled down next to a water wheel before being channeled back into the stream. Everything looked rundown and cobbed together, the last repairs done before even baling wire was invented. It was a doorway into antiquity.

That doorway opened to a dark cavernous space with the crashing sound of water surrounding a lighted hearth. We entered the cave-like structure, our eyes adjusting to the glowing coal fire. That, and what light entered through tiny windows made my eyes widen at the primitive surroundings. There was nothing simple about what I perceived. Genius was evident at every turn.

The stationary waterwheel was as much inside the shop as outside, visible in the dim light as connecting to a massive tree trunk that we learned was basically a huge hammer. Through an ingenious rigging a cable snaked up through the roof and connected to a spillway door. One need only pull the cable to open the spillway causing the water to turn the wheel. How much it was opened determined the speed of the waterwheel which, in turn, regulated the speed of the hammer. Because this was all made out of wood except for the hammer’s head, the connections would overheat relative to the speed of the work being done. To counter that, a wooden trough was placed to catch more of the water the faster the wheel turned, channeling it to cool the friction sites. It was brilliant, if ancient, engineering!

The sound of cascading water came from the rear of the forge as well. Behind the hearth there were carved stone steps up through a curved doorway into a well-like structure. Hidden beneath ferns and moss was the wooden system that replaced the conventional bellows. It is a Catalan horn, in which air is injected according to the Venturi principle. As water from the reservoir came down in and outside wooden tubes that narrowed in size as they descended, air was forced into the forge. That air was in turn regulated by a stopper that, when removed, allowed the air to flow into the room, but when in place it directed the flow right into the glowing coals of the forge. No bellows were needed! So much of the labor was automated that the smithy’s main task was to move the hot metal from the fire to the hammer to be shaped. It enabled the farming community built up around the forge to have all the repairs and tools they needed to survive.

Speaking of surviving, Manuel is part of a family tradition. I asked him about a fifth generation, a son to take over and he said “I have no son to succeed me. It would be impossible! Don’t get me wrong. I can have sons, but not one to continue this tradition. No one would want to.” And with that final statement, he picked up a hammer and shaped a metal spike for me, pounding it flat on four sides and curving the head. While it was still hot he hammer-stamped my name on the shaft, cooled the spike in water, and handed me a historic souvenir 1700 years in the making.

To visit Herreria de Compludo contact Castilla y Leon Tourism or see:

The Herreria de Compludo website.

There is a fee and specific times it is open. It is advised to make arrangements in advance. It is well worth the visit.

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I raise my baton to alert the orchestra that I am ready to conduct. In my best imposture of Gustavo Dudamel, I cue the woodwinds, then coax in the stringed instruments, and finally, I direct the brass-perching on the precipice and at the ready-to chime in. I punctuate my air-piercing baton-swirling, with a jab toward the timpani to elicit an emphatic beat. Smug and sly, I think that Felix Mendelssohn’s Italian Symphony never sounded so expressive. As if following my intensity, the surrounding chamber becomes enveloped in a saturated vermillion glow that melts into an intense violet, as I command the orchestra…and we sprint together to the end of the first movement.

Alas, I am conducting nary a human, but rather a dozen or so electronic totems, synced to the digital leger-de-main that is the underpinning of Leipzig’s Mendelssohn House Effektorium, a room for making virtual music. This is 21st-century, sophisticated child’s play: A dozen or so monolithic speakers (labeled appropriately, first violins, double basses, French horns, and so on), populate this symphony hall. You take your position at the lectern and then follow the snaking, red-line guide along the score; press the touchscreen, wield the baton to change tempo and tone, and suddenly you and your crop are Bernstein, Mehta, or, well, Maestro Mendelsson.

The meticulously restored Mendelssohn House in Leipzig is where the musical genius lived from 1845 until his death two years later; he was the Kapellmeister of the city’s renowned Gewandhaus Orchestra from 1835 to 1847. The museum opened in 1997 and is a major draw here, in a city legendary for its musical history. This charming municipality represents, though, merely one reason to visit the northeastern federal state of Saxony, in Germany.

Spread out over 7,000 square miles and bordered snugly to the east by the Czech Republic and Poland, and to the south, Bavaria, it is one of the smallest of the 16 federal states comprising Germany. But it is enviably bursting with compelling sites and sights to make it your next travel destination. Here is but a smattering of things to do and see in this inviting, remarkable region of Germany.

Among other draws, it is home to a veritable cornucopia — more than 150! — of palaces (schlösser), fortresses (festungen), stately mansions (herrenhäuser), and regal parks, such as Muskau Park, a stunningly bucolic UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Some of these edifices are virtual ruins, like the Dahlen Castle; some, a fascinating pile of rocks, as the spellbinding remains of Neurathen Castle (with rooms that had been cut into the stones); some are absolute fortresses, like Mylau Castle; and still others are overwhelmingly regal manses, such as the stately Dresden Castle and Leipzig’s elegant Gohlis Palace. Some are just for visiting, presenting interesting photo ops, while others are luxury hotels, and still others are homes to museums, such as the stately Augustusburg Palace, where I spent several hours in its amazing Motorcycle Museum: Spanning over 120 years of motorcycling history, the exhibits range from funky bicycles to exquisite, burnished-to-perfection Harley Davidsons.

Music is a hallmark of Saxony’s heritage, and the Leipzig Music Trail is a must for anyone who loves music. It is just over three miles long and heralds Telemann, Bach, Schumann, Wagner, Grieg, Janáček, and Mahler, among the many notable composers who worked or lived there. Stainless steel swirls-think the Nike swoosh on steroids-mark the spots (11 of them) in the cobbled pavement where you can stop, listen to recordings, and read about musical history.

Do not pass up a performance at the legendary, glass-facaded Gewandhaus. And, while in Leipzig, be sure to visit the Holocaust Memorial, consisting of 140 vacant bronze chairs — representing the 14,000 Jews who perished — built on the site where the city’s Grand Synagogue once stood.

Despite its devastation in WW II, Dresden, another touchstone in Saxony, has been rebuilt and you’d never know the extent of the destruction 75-plus years ago. No mention of Saxony is complete without an in-depth stay in charming, history-filled Dresden, including a lengthy visit to the world-renowned Green Vault, or the Grünes Gewölbe, comprising the Historic Green Vault (dripping in sumptuous Baroque ormolu and splendor) and the New Green Vault (with more traditional collections). Combined, here is one of the grandest collections of decorative arts, simply put, in all of Europe. Founded by Augustus the Strong in 1723, its exhibits include everything, ranging from Baroque to Classicism. You could drool over the art here for days.

Leave music and art (but not architecture) behind for the moment and enter the razzle-dazzle of Hollywood, when you visit the cinematic epicenter of Eastern Europe-Görliwood, the easternmost city in Germany, properly known as Görlitz. Countless films, including Inglourious Basterds, The Reader, The Book Thief, and The Grand Budapest Hotel, among the many, were all filmed right here.

For architecture buffs, this town is also home to more than 4,000 listed buildings and is considered Germany’s largest heritage area. Some religious sites: The Holy Sepulchre is the most faithful copy of the Jerusalem site. Amazingly, the Art Nouveau-styled Görlitz Synagogue, built at the beginning of the 20th century, survived Kristallnacht. Thereafter, however, with no congregation to tend to it, it fell into tragic disrepair. After a 10-million-Euro restoration, the synagogue reopened; on August 20, 2021, the first service in 80 years was held. Today, it houses modest but highly evocative and meaningful exhibits, showcasing personal artifacts and memorabilia that had once belonged to Jewish residents of Görlitz.

And, parenthetically, while you are in Görlitz, you can actually savor a tiny taste of Poland: Cross the Old Town Bridge, et voila! You are in Polska!

Another city worth at least a day of your time is the town of Seiffen. While it’s true that the internationally renowned German Christmas markets, in general, are among the most celebrated in the world, it is here in Seiffen that you’ll feel you as if you’ve entered the North Pole and Santa Land.

Seiffen boasts a blindingly festive, year-round Noel. This holiday-themed town, nestled in the Ore Mountains, was once the go-to site for silver- and tin-mining, but as supplies of those metals declined, residents turned to wood-carving and -turning. Dozens of shops vend all manner of traditional ornaments, including the ever-popular pyramids and arches, and, of course, the nutcracker, first created in the 17th century in Germany.

(There is even a nutcracker museum-ErstesNussknacker Museum-in Ergzebirge.) There are workshops where you can watch master woodworkers spin their magic or create your own ornaments.

A must in Seiffen: The traditional Neinerlaa Xmas Eve dinner, with its elaborate, sculpted platter, featuring little niches for, among the nine obligatory foods, bratwurst, dumplings, and sauerkraut.

Seiffen is also home to the Ore Mountain Open-Air Museum, an ethnographic exploration of rural life pre-1900, documenting and showcasing over a dozen types of rural homes from the region. It is adjacent to the Ore Mountain Toy Museum, a must-see. Unique to this area: Artisans turn circular wooden forms against a lathe and create miniature animals, smaller than a dime. This craft is known as Runddreherei, a form of very sophisticated and intricate woodturning and must be seen to be understood.

Not to be outshone by the splendor of Dresden, the musical heritage of Leipzig, the Christmas magic of Seiffen, and the glam of Görlitz, the town of Chemnitz is the third-largest city in Saxony and it, too, offers many sights. The Villa Esche, built by Belgian architect Henry van de Velde, was the home of the Herbert Esche family, and features a stunning meld of Belle Epoque and Art Nouveau styles, well worth swooning over. I could have spent all day in the Saxon Museum of Industry, located in a former foundry in Chemnitz. It brings machines and man together in unexpected ways, whether exploring vehicles or textiles.

I could go on about Saxony and its plethora of UNESCO World Heritage sites and parks, the Museum Gunzenhauser (with a collection of nearly 2,500 works of modern art), the fascinating Bach Museum, the Grassi Museum of Ethnology (among the extensive collections, hundreds of teacups!), and-for wristwatch aficionados-the manufactures of A. Lange & Söhne and Glashütte Original, in the south. But, in truth, you just need to pack your bag and go! Willkommen!

For more info go to visitsaxony.com.

All photos courtesy of the author.
© 2024 Ruth J. Katz All Rights Reserved

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Years later, when all my friends were watching American Bandstand, I was hanging out at Yankee Stadium. But years pass; my sports team loyalty switches from baseball to football – and now a native of Washington, DC, maybe the Capitals hockey team. But it was an upcoming trip to Cooperstown, NY – home of the Baseball Hall of Fame – that brought me six decades back to that baseball-crazy little girl – and the fear that I wouldn’t even care.

So here I am. And I do. Hard not to focus on baseball when the whole town is obsessed, as noted on well-worn t-shirts sporting (pun intended….) the mantra: “A drinking town with a baseball problem.”

Just walking along Main Street is a not-so-subtle introduction to the local past-time. A quick bite at the Dugout Bar and Grill; a storefront promoting Safe at Home collectibles; Shoeless Joe’s – a Field of Dreams reference – promises more baseball memorabilia; a Baseball Town Motel offers lodging, and the Heroes of Baseball Wax Museum provides a niche version of the usual famous figures. Want a bat with your name inscribed on it – and who wouldn’t? Visit the Bat Store. Okay, I get it – it’s a baseball town. But does it have to be everywhere???

Apparently, yes. Several folks in baseball uniforms strolling the street without drawing any attention. And because it was fall, there were pumpkins displayed along the street – all sized like huge baseballs.

Even the toothpicks in the The Otesaga Resort Hotel Restaurant have tiny baseballs attached to their tip.   Baseballs apparently come in many sizes… A TV in one of the diners had a football game on – man, did that seem out of place!

At the Doubleday Café, I snarkily asked if it would be more appropriate to be called the Doubleheader Cafe, until someone patiently – and no doubt a tad pityingly – explained to me that Abner Doubleday was credited with inventing baseball. I slithered away from the café and was only slightly mollified to later discover that actually he hadn’t….

Want to literally walk in the steps of Hall of Famers? Plan to stay at the stately The Otesaga Resort Hotel, an historic Cooperstown landmark, that houses new inductees, their families and former Famers every Induction year. Apparently, pretty much every Hall of Famer ever has stayed at the resort. And has probably had one of their toothpicks holding a cherry or an olive in a drink.

Which brings us back to the Baseball Hall of Fame – clearly the rest of the town is just an extension thereof. Where to begin? An introductory movie starts with a trivia quiz of memorable moments – and then tells you where in the Hall you can get more information or find the famous memorabilia referenced on film. In case you want to see a ball from the first game at which admission was charged – September 10, 1858 – you’ll know right where to go.

Lou Gehrig. Cal Ripken. Sandy Koufax. Nolan Ryan. Willie Mayes. Despite my many years away, I still knew a surprising number of players. And it was still thrilling.

Traversing the many hallways of the Hall, it was like walking on sacred ground. You could spend two hours – or two weeks – and still find stuff to see. The first, a photo gallery covering generations of greats, of course has write-ups of those on exhibit. But it’s the intimate quotes from the players themselves that humanize the entire sport.

And when I got to the Yankees Highlights Era, I was channeling a very excited 10-year-old self. I found Mickey and Yogi and felt an immediate kinship. It was like they knew I was coming back after all these years just to see them. Or maybe not…. Ten-year-olds can be very unreliable narrators.

Of course, there was also Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron and Satchel Paige. I wouldn’t say that even if you have no interest in baseball, you’ll be enthralled. But still, if only a fair-weather fan there will be something that will delight you.

A large display that caught my interest was devoted to the origin of women’s baseball teams – 1943-54 – which inspired the movie A League of her Own. It warmed my little 10-year-old heart. In my high school days, there was no Title IX, no girls’ baseball team, no opportunity for me to play a game I already loved – and I felt deprived my whole life. I coulda been a female Moose Skowron….

Later at another local baseball-infused tavern, three TVs were tuned to baseball games. After spending so much time at the Hall of Fame, I didn’t know whether they were historic replays – or current games.

But yes, if you happen to go into baseball overload, there are other Cooperstown diversions to be enjoyed. A Glimmerglass Queen boat tour on Otsego Lake, a living history farm museum that takes you back to 1840’s rural life, the Fenimore Art Museum – and yes James Fenimore Cooper, author of the Last of the Mohicans, was a Cooperstown native in the town his father founded. Also Fly Creek Cider which is a museum in its own right with so much to see and sample.

But if the 10-year-old inside me has a say, I would never leave the Baseball Hall of Fame. Mickey and I still have some unfinished business….

For more information, visit baseballhall.org, www.otesaga.com and www.thisiscooperstown.com.

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Catalina is not just an island paradise; it’s a very close island paradise, which makes it a perfect day or weekend getaway for Southern California residents. In fact, at only 22 nautical miles across the sea from Long Beach, the island can be reached by boat in one hour. With this in mind, the family and I recently escaped to the island for a memorable getaway.

Our journey began in downtown Long Beach at Catalina Express where we boarded one of the company’s sleek, catamaran-styled vessels for a one-hour trek across the Catalina Channel.

Featuring comfortable indoor and outdoor seating, lots of big windows and a full bar and snack shop, the boat makes for a fun trip. Highlights of the crossing included incredible views of the legendary Queen Mary; the giant, white geodesic cruise ship dome (former home to the Howard Hughes “Spruce Goose”); the beautiful Long Beach cityscape and a few playful dolphins following the boat.

For our crossing we upgraded our seats to the Commodore Lounge, where passengers enjoy priority boarding and check-in privileges, roomier and more intimate seating areas, and a complimentary beverage and snack.

When we reached the island, the captain anchored in the harbor at Avalon. Here we were greeted by schools of bright orange Garibaldi – the California state fish, along with a bustling little town, full of colorful boats and yachts, boutique hotels and shops, and scores of vacationers.

We then strolled a few minutes to the Avalon Hotel where we would spend the next three days and two nights.

Located on a hill, in the heart of Catalina Island, The Avalon Hotel overlooks the island coast in all its splendor. The property offers 15 luxurious, boutique rooms. Some are uniquely configured with an assortment of balconies offering sweeping views of Avalon and the harbor. All rooms include comfortable beds, premium linens, flat-screen TVs, a desk, microwave, refrigerator, and private bathrooms. Select rooms include a wet bar and an option of a Murphy bed.

We stayed in Room 101 and it was unforgettable. The first thing we saw when opening the door to this room was a gorgeous view of Avalon Harbor coming from a large window. The scene was so beautiful and colorful that it looked fake. But it was as real as the rest of this charming hotel.

The room also came with a huge, open balcony, with comfortable chairs and more impressive views. Other highlights included a Murphy bed, handmade natural soaps, fully lined bathrobes for guests to use, and a stately bathroom with tub and shower, upscale amenities, and signature toiletries.

Our room was next to the lobby and the lush, peaceful courtyard. Adorned with plants and trees, a trickling fountain, and a koi fish pond, the courtyard is where complimentary breakfast is held each morning.

Once acquainted with the hotel, we walked a couple minutes for a delicious lunch at Bluewater Avalon. Located on big wooden piers, overlooking the water, the restaurant boasts a tantalizing menu, specializing in fresh seafood and tender meats.

Our lunch began with fresh baked bread and a tasty jumbo shrimp cocktail appetizer. I then enjoyed a delicious bowl of cioppino, with clams, shrimp, calamari, local fish and vegetables in a rich tomato broth. Next we shared a plate of light and crispy fish and chips, while the kids had chicken tenders and a hamburger.

After lunch we walked next door to tiny Avalon Beach, where we played in the water and made sand castles and watched people swim back and forth to their boats that are anchored in the harbor about 50 yards offshore. We then headed back to the Avalon Hotel and relaxed on the rooftop deck, admiring expansive views of the beach, hillside homes and hotels and the iconic Catalina Casino.

Probably the most famous structure on the island, the round-shaped Catalina Casino was built in 1929 as one of the first theater’s in the world to be designed specifically for the new “talkie” movies. The building features hand-painted murals, by John Gabriel Beckman, whose work also adorns Hollywood’s Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.

The casino was also a popular spot during the Big Band era, when each week hundreds of people would sail to the island to see big bands with the likes of Benny Goodman, Stan Kenton, Woody Herman, Gene Autry and other greats play on one of the biggest wooden dance floors the world had yet seen.

The next morning we enjoyed a healthy and hearty complimentary breakfast in the serene courtyard at the Avalon Hotel. The breakfast included hard boiled eggs, toast and muffins, cereals, coffee and juices.

After breakfast we walked to Catalina Golf Cart Rentals for a fun and unforgettable, 90-minute golf cart ride around the island.

Beginning across the street from the beach, our journey took us up a steep hill, where we encountered spectacular views of the ocean and coastline. We then winded through the island’s beautiful and rugged interior, passing hidden homes and numerous tiny vans and cars. Because the island is so small, golf carts and tiny, imported cars are what locals use for transportation.

At one point in our journey we came to a dead end street at the base of a hill, where a group of deer came up to our cart to share our sunflower seeds. If you wanna see the island, a golf cart is one of the best and most fun ways to do it.

After touring the island we experienced lunch at Lobster Trap.

The restaurant is owned by commercial fisherman Caleb Lins, who searches the fertile waters off the Channel Islands in his 40-foot boat, looking for the freshest local fish and California spiny lobster to catch for his customers.

Our Lobster Trap lunch began with fresh Hawaiian poke, with tuna sashimi on a bed of salad. Next we shared a creamy bowl of clam chowder with lots of tasty clams and potatoes. We then sampled fish and chips and a delicious lobster sandwich, while the kids had a burger and chicken tenders.

After lunch we grabbed ice cream at Lloyd’s of Avalon, a Catalina tradition for more than 80 years that is famous for its saltwater taffy and one-time patron, Marilyn Monroe, who used to live on the island. We then spent the afternoon relaxing on the beach.

For dinner, we got sandwich stuff at the local market and enjoyed a lovely dinner on our balcony at the Avalon Hotel. As the sun went down, we watched boats bob in the harbor and waves crash on the shore.

We concluded our island visit with breakfast in the courtyard and then an exciting voyage back to the mainland aboard Catalina Express.

For more information on visiting Catalina Island visit the Catalina Express (or call 800-613-1212) and the Avalon Hotel (or call 310-510-7070).

The post A Fall Escape to Catalina Island appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Things I am not doing: I am not calling home for messages. I am not reading texts or emails on my phone. I am not scrolling for news. My phone, in fact, is in my bedside drawer at the hotel. The hardest part for me: not doing Wordle.

Going for walks is an allowable do nothing activity so strolling – as distinguished from scrolling….– around the cute beach-side town of Rehoboth, Delaware a couple of hours east of Washington, DC is allowed. Shopping, not so much. Reading t-shirts in a shop, okay. “If a man says he will fix it, he will. There’s no need to remind him every six months.” Now that’s worth an appreciative look. “I’m going to go stand outside, so if anyone asks, tell them I’m outstanding.” “Exercise? I thought you said extra fries.” That could be a Thrasher’s reference but more on that later…..

Maybe I’d better explain. I travel a lot. It’s my work and most trips are filled with story-gathering activities round-the-clock. Have to do all the must-sees and track down those unknowns off the beaten track. Lots of planning, organizing, researching – even the restaurants have to be studied. So the idea of a do-nothing vacation had a lot of appeal. Relaxing. Stress-free. Laid-back. I just didn’t know how much work it was going to be.

Restaurants are tricky. Rather than seeking out the umbrella-clad cocktail du jour, I was much happier hanging out at a local bar mid-day with my go-to Fireball over light ice. I’m an exercise fiend at home but here, raising a glass from the top of Whisky Jack’s bar – could any name be more perfect for what I was seeking out? – was about as much exertion as I could muster. The resultant smile on my face almost pushed me over the top. I think I was getting the hang of this do-nothing concept.

Rather than research the de rigueur restaurants of Rehoboth, I opted instead to stop for ice cream and the area’s famous Thrasher’s French Fries. Reading the weird ice cream flavors in the street-front parlor that boasts 100 different flavors was almost as much fun as reading t-shirts: “I Don’t Give a Fork,” “May the 4th be With You,” and “Better than Sex.” Reading a hundred ice cream flavors is time-consuming. How fortunate there was nothing I actually needed to DO.

Sitting on a boardwalk bench with my fries – somehow unlike any other (Thrasher’s refuse to provide ketchup because, I assume, that would tarnish the original flavor) – and people watching. Does that count as an activity? So many different humans going in so many different directions, all so intent on their own drummers – it was exhausting to watch. I was just happy to stay exactly where I was, watching the seagulls, busily squawking and hurtling toward a dropped French fry. Seagulls are actually more exhausting. I felt even more of a need to just unwind.

Truth be told, at one beach bar it was so bright and noisy I found it very hard to chill out the way I’d envisioned. Next time – dark, quiet and low key. So first night out, big mistake.

Feeding – so to speak – my preference for down-and-dirty restaurants as opposed to white-tablecloth, the comfortable and casual Gogg’s perfectly matched my mind-numbing mood on night out number two.

Alright so there was a menu with 100 rums, rivaling the 100 ice cream flavors. Could get testy. Resisting the threat of stressful decision-making angst, I simply opted for my favorites, thus enjoying the novelty of such variety while avoiding indulging in executive-level anxiety. A win-win. I didn’t have to do anything but eat and drink.

But, of course, any further activity-involved nightlife did not qualify. Back to my do-nothing balcony. Listening to waves never disappoints.

So yes, there are arcades in Rehoboth I didn’t go to. I didn’t bike-ride on the Boardwalk. I avoided mini-golf. Although I did at times find myself lusting after all the emails I wasn’t reading. Again, hard work to do nothing.

The next day, on the beach again, I didn’t for one minute miss playing frisbee while relaxing on my chaise lounge.The one exception to my inactivity, however, was to indulge in one of my most fun undertakings: diving into waves! I allowed myself that delightful diversion before returning to a renewed level of slothness. And maybe one more relaxing drink at Whisky Jack’s.

So is this all much ado about nothing? You bet!

The post A Do-Nothing Vacation Takes Work appeared first on Traveling Archive.

The Corning Museum of Glass (located, as its name cunningly suggests, in Corning, NY, and referred to as CMoG), is a Mecca for all things glass. And after one experience within the campus footprint, the Make Your Own Glass experience, I was hooked. And so will you be, if you make the pilgrimage to this highly fascinating and educational Mecca.

The original CMoG structure, designed in 1951 by the renowned architect Wallace K. Harrison, has long been home to an exciting exhibit space, a formidable research library, a cutting-edge education center, and more. Today, however, having expanded dramatically over the years, the entire campus comprises a unique collection of award-winning, modern, glass structures, stretching over 10 acres and housing even more glass and glass-related archives, exhibition, and participatory programs.

The newest expansion includes The Studio, a state-of-the-art center for glass, glass, and more glass, including the Make Your Own Glass workshop, allowing devotees of silica and sand to explore not only glass blowing (make a flower, a pumpkin, a Christmas ornament!), but also fusing, sandblasting, flameworking, and other glass arts. (Prices for these hands-on experiences range from $15 to $150.)

The Studio, established in 1996 by CMoG, was then a 24,000-square-foot facility that soon garnered an international reputation and became a sought-after destination, offering instruction across a spectrum of techniques and skill levels, as well as residencies for artists, and rentals of furnace, kiln, and cold-working space and equipment. Enter StudioNEXT, a visionary project created to expand the facility’s footprint to a staggering 60,000 square feet and which transforms the already exciting and educational experience to a preeminent global center for artists and students of glass. The $55.3 million project is CMoG’s largest and most forward-looking initiative to date, underscoring the Museum’s commitment to glass as a major medium for contemporary artistic expression, doubling down on the Museum’s support for artists and designers who are innovating in glass.

The Studio offers instruction across a spectrum of techniques and skill levels, residencies for artists, and rentals of furnace, kiln, and cold-working space and equipment. By expanding and enhancing the infrastructure, this expansion creates the only facility in North America that can accommodate large-scale works in cast glass; deepens glassmaking educational programs for students of all levels; offers expanded residency opportunities; and serves many more visitors each day.

Over the years, CMoG has also assumed stewardship of the illustrious and historic Steuben art glass brand, and Corning still produces some select Steuben pieces; proceeds from the sale of Steuben pieces benefit the educational mission of the non-profit Museum. The historic ventilator building Steuben once inhabited, located on the CMoG campus, was renovated and repurposed as the 500-seat Amphitheater Hot Shop – one of the world’s largest space in which to watch live glassblowing demonstrations. Although no longer under the umbrella of the Corning Incorporated brand, the household name Pyrex, also, has its roots in the Corning community.

The Rakow Research Library includes world’s foremost archive and reference collection on the history of glassmaking. A center for scholarship, CMoG publishes glass-focused periodicals, books, DVDs, and exhibition catalogs.

Another jewel in the crown of CMoG is the collection itself, home to more than 50,000 extraordinary works in glass. Spanning the globe and encompassing more than 3,500 years of human ingenuity, the collection includes masterpieces from the great civilizations of ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome, as well as glass from other parts of Europe, the Far East/Asia, the Americas, and other far-flung melting pots of humanity.

Some of the highlights of the Museum’s 35 centuries of glass include:

• One of the earliest known glass portraits, a rare ancient glass sculpture of an Egyptian king, dating from the late 18th Dynasty, about 1450-1400 B.C.
• The earliest known example of an Islamic drinking horn (only two others are known)
• The Behaim beaker, a Venetian enameled glass that commemorates a marriage heldin 1495.
• One of the earliest known pieces of American glass, a covered tumbler produced at the factory of John Frederick Amelung.

Highlights of the contemporary art and design wing include:

• “The Continuous Mile,” a mile-long sculpture composed of over 4.5 million glass beads created by Liza Lou and more than 50 bead workers in KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa.
• “Virtue of Blue,” a self-sustaining chandelier constructed completely out of blue solar panel butterflies

Some of my favorites among the more modern pieces include:

• Celebrated artist Lino Tagliapietra’s “Endeavor” installation is a seemingly in-flight flock of birds, or a graceful, gliding school of fish, or even a waltzing fleet of boats. It features a dozen-plus, colorful,glass swirls and swooshes, suspended from the ceiling. The viewer is metaphorically invited into it, to experience its movement, grace, weightlessness, and elegance

• Also suspended from the ceiling is Silvia Levenson’s “It’s Raining Knives,” an arresting forest of cast-glass knives, which are ground and polished to many a striking point!

• “Forest Glass” by Katherine Gray is composed of some 2,000 found glass objects – mostly tumblers of one form or another – that are arranged on clear shelves, forming three “trees,” recognizable by their brownish”trunks” and greenish, “leafy” canopies. The didactics adjacent to the piece state that the “The title refers to the Waldglas, translated from German as ‘forest glass,’ the typically dark green and brown glass made during the Middle Ages in northern and central Europe. The wood burned to fuel glass furnaces resulted in widespread deforestation. Here, Katherine Gray re-created trees out of the material that destroyed them – ‘recycling’ the trees with recycled glass.”

• Set against a backdrop (on the floor) of a flattened black and white schematic of the world, “Global Cities,” by Norwood Viviano, tells the story of global population change through the individual histories of 33 cities around the world.The bright blue top-like floating forms correlate to populations. It is a striking and evocative piece.
• Beth Lipman’s “All in All” is a typical tablescape for which the artist is known-blown glass forms are the fare of the tabletop – pre-historic plants comprise the design.
• “Lynx after a Sketchbook Page by Albrecht Dürer,” by Polish-born Marta Klonoska, employs thousands of pieces of cut glass, creating the “fur” of the lynx. He looks so cute you might want to pet him, but this lynx is more like a porcupine…and hands off, anyhow – you’re in a museum!
• A charming and inspired work, “108 Meditations in Saffron” by David Chatt is a vitrine assemblage of found objects, covered in intricate fiery-orange beading. Everyday objects – found tchotchkes, if you will – form the basis of this arresting agglomeration of mere stuff!

CMoG is committed to exploring glass in many ways and recently mounted an outstanding show, “Disclosure: The Whiteness of Glass,” which explored subtle racism within this ivory-tower pursuit. It was riveting and as a viewer, you were forced to ask uncomfortable questions and explore emotions.

Additionally, CMoG has a truly fabulous, 18,000-square-feet gift shop – think fine art objets along with gewgaws, fanciful “stuff,” sparkling jewelry, and utilitarian must-haves – that vends everything from books about glass, to ornaments, to functional and stunning or mundane and utilitarian tools. For your comfort, as well, there is a very decent restaurant and other visitor amenities.

Additional info: home.cmog.org
© 2024 Ruth J. Katz All Rights Reserved

The post Get Blown Away at the Corning Museum of Glass! appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Greetings, T-Boy Readers & Enthusiasts –

Music is considered the spice of life, often times indicative of the national character of a country, city and place. The sound of a Mexican mariachi band, the pounding of drums in Tonga or the jazz of New Orleans can conjure heartfelt emotions and also an education for the curious traveler. Our current T-Boy Society of Travel, Film & Music poll is devoted to domestic or international destinations in which you’d visit for its music. Once again, this allows us to see a different side of our esteemed writers who’ve been regularly delivering original content; a content that readers can only find on Traveling Boy.

Deb Roskamp | T-Boy writer and photographer:

Fado – Lisbon, Portugal

The fadista sang mournful tunes with lyrics of resignation, fate and melancholy; best defined by the Portuguese word saudade, (longing), symbolizing a feeling of irreparable loss and lifelong damage. Fado (‘destiny, fate’) is a melancholic genre whose birthplace is Lisbon’s port districts of Alfama, Mouraria and Bairro Alto in the 1820s. Initially, its musical style was performed in cafes, taverns and ‘half-door’ houses (bordellos) to sailors, bohemians, and courtesans who were mainly from the urban working-class.

Today, throughout the world, Fado is regarded as the Portuguese musical symbol of culture and tradition. The music is performed without any form of electric amplification by either a female or a male vocalist, and accompanying music, generally by guitars (10- or 12-string guitars), one or two violas (6-string guitars), and occasionally a viola baixo (a small 8-string bass viola). Most of the repertoire follows a double meter (four beats to a measure), with lyrics arranged in quatrains or in any of several other common Portuguese poetic forms.

I listened to the musicians while dining in a restaurant. The music took me back to imagining women singing these ballads to their sailors, as they set out to explore the world, disappearing beyond the horizon. I’d visited the ports and seen the Monument to the Explorers in the Belem neighborhood. Now, I would venture to the Fado Museum in the Alfama neighborhood where one can learn more about this musical genre in an interactive setting.

Ed Boitano | T-Boy editor:

Mozart – Salzburg, Austria

With its medieval city center, cobblestone streets, Baroque architecture and Hohensalzburg Fortress resting in a spectacular alpine setting, Salzburg serves as nothing less than an enchanting fairytale of a city. It is also the birthplace of one of the greatest composers of all time: Johann Chrysostom Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791). Mozart’s narrative is well-known; he could read and compose music and play the violin and piano at five years old. Born into a musical family in Salzburg, Mozart had a unique ability for imitating music, which first became evident when he recited a musical piece by simply observing his father conducting a lesson to his older sister. This led to a childhood on the road, where the young prodigy performed before many of the royal courts of Europe. At 17, no longer a child prodigy, he returned to Salzburg where his uncanny memory of earlier travels had provided him with a plethora of musical styles and experiences, from which he used to create his own compositional language.

Mozart was never completely happy with his later career in Salzburg as he experienced little fame, and soon moved to Vienna; however, the Salzburg today is a Mecca for all things Amadeus. An essential stop is a visit to Mozart’s Geburtshaus (birthplace). This is the house where his parents lived for 26 years and young Mozart was educated. Now a three-story museum, it is filled with original instruments – Mozart’s childhood violin, concert violin, clavichord and pianoforte – portraits, family letters, and furniture and objects of daily use, including Mozart’s very cradle. I asked why were Mozart’s famous eyes so bulging? He didn’t eat his vegetables, replied my guide. Noticing the bathtub, I asked how often would Mozart bathe? Twice a year; once for Christmas and once for Easter.

Another Mozart must, a dinner concert at the famous Stiftskeller St. Peter, considered the “oldest restaurant in Europe.” My dinner concert consisted of arias performed by candlelight between food courses, prepared with traditional recipes from Mozart’s era. Period-costumed musicians, including two opera singers, performed arias from “Don Giovanni,” “Le Nozzi di Figaro” and “The Magic Flute.” Dining under opulent chandeliers and surrounded by 18th century décor, not to mention the stirring music, was akin to being transported back to the magical times of Mozart. Be sure to visit the Tourist Info in Salzburg for concerts at Mirabell Palace, the Hohensalzburg Fortress and the Salzburg Festival.

Susan Breslow | T-Boy writer:

Bette Midler – Anywhere

I would go anywhere and pay anything to see Bette Midler perform again. There’s no better all-around entertainer. Her voice can be brassy or soft, make you laugh out loud or bring you to tears (I never hear “The Rose” live without crying). The bawdy Soph & Ernie jokes are hilarious. The costumes dazzling. Her backup singers, The Harlettes, are appropriately slutty. Even the props – a motorized wheelchair for her alter ego Dolores del Lago, The Toast of Chicago in full mermaid regalia – are a hoot.

I’ve seen her multiple times at Caesars Palace, enlivening the 110-foot-long stage built for Celine Dion, in “The Showgirl Must Go On,” at “The Divine Intervention Tour” in Madison Square Garden, in Radio City Music Hall, and of course raising spirits after 9/11 in Yankee Stadium singing “Wind Beneath My Wings.” I don’t believe she performs live anymore, but this 2021 Kennedy Center honoree, who has as much heart and humor as talent, is a true G.O.A.T.

Ringo Boitano | T-Boy writer:

Irish Session Music – Doolin, Ireland

“What brings you to Ireland?” asked my friendly cab driver. “All the above and more, and with a very keen interest in Irish music,” laughed thee. The cabbie smiled, “You know, I sing too. Give me a couple pints of Guinness and I’ll sing all night fer yah.” My mood was already euphoric; now kicked up a step higher, well aware that a trip to the Republic of Ireland is a cultural immersion of living history, heartfelt poetry, ethereal landscapes and locals with hospitality in their very DNA. And, yes, I soon found my traditional Irish Session (‘seisiún’) bands, playing jigs (faster rhythms) and reels (stepdance music in ‘reel’ time), and an occasional ballad about the Great Famine and emigration.

Doolin (Dúlainn) is an Atlantic coastal village in County Clare, considered the home of traditional Irish session music. And the local attractions are not bad either, with the Cliffs of Moher, the Burren, and a port that leads to Aran Islands just around the corner. But what could top a Doolin pub meal washed down with a pint of the black stuff at one of the village’s rollicking establishments? Well, grab your next pint and bask in the intoxicating music of an Irish session band on the floor.

The size of the groups may vary, and members are sometimes new to one another, yet seemingly never missing a beat on the Bodhrán Drum. Traditional instruments generally included fiddle (the life blood of a session); harp; flute and whistle; Uilleann Pipes; guitar, mandolin and banjo; accordion and concertina, and the Bodhrán Drum. You’ll notice the Irish have the gift of the dance where evidence suggests that the sun worshipping Celts and the Druids practiced a circular formation pagan dance which has a commonality to the modern Irish set dancing of today. And, if you’re feeling particularly festive, you can join in on a dance; in my case, a rather clumsy and improvised one

At a conversational break, a musician informed me that the Irish dancer once carried a heavy stone in both hands, preventing them from holding hands with the opposite sex. Then adding, “I’d probably need a shackle (Handcuff, carrying alcoholic beverages in both hands at the same time).” What could I say, besides Sláinte! (Pronounced: ‘slaan-sha’) and ordering another Guinness.

Stephen Brewer | T-Boy writer:

Giacomo Puccini – Lucca, Italy

On a dark and stormy night a millennium or so ago, as legend has it, a life-sized crucifix washed up on the shores of Tuscany in an unmanned ship. This so-called Volto Santo then traversed the countryside in a driverless cart and arrived in the walled city of Lucca, where it remains to this day. Once a year citizens parade the relic, adorned with a crown and draped in fine robes, through streets and squares in a torchlit procession that without too much stretch of the imagination, evokes the operas of Giacomo Puccini. The composer of “La Boheme,”“Turnandot,”“Madame Butterfly,” and “Tosca” was born in Lucca, in 1858, in a handsome house that is now filled with his handwritten scores and other memorabilia.

Music pervades the medieval streets during the city’s many concerts and festivals, and with luck a walker might turn the corner just as strains “O Mio Bambino Caro” or “Nessun Dorma” waft from the church of San Michele, with a tiered, white-marble façade that resembles a wedding cake. At such a moment it’s easy to believe in another local legend. At the very top of the church is a statue of the archangel Michael, and it’s said that he holds a sapphire in his outstretched hand to catch sunbeams and bathe this enchanting city in grace and light.

Richard Carroll | T-Boy writer:

Billie Holiday – Capital Theatre, Salt Lake City

Traveling the world I’ve discovered (along with hundreds of other writers) that music is a marvelous guide to the culture of a destination, such as tango in Buenos Aires, New Orleans, the birthplace of jazz, America’s only original art form and a gift to the world, where you can hear and dance to marching brass bands, see Tuba Skinny on Royal Street in the French Quarter and enjoy a celebration of life listening to Erika Lewis who often without a microphone sings “Broken Hearted Blues” and “Papa’s Got Your Bathwater On.”

For me, Ireland is among the most musically oriented countries on the universe along with Mexico. Traveling to Mexico numerous times over the years in the African Queen, a 1973 VW Camper, it seems every village has a guitarist or a singer and where else in the world but Mexico do gift shops offer guitars for sale. I’ve enjoyed the mariachis in the north, Banda Norteno in Mazatlan, marimba in the south of Mexico, and in Veracruz, Musica de Tropical. I found that the diverse music of Mexico is also a powerful cultural powerhouse throughout Central America, and I have enjoyed Mexican groups, often house bands, performing in Costa Rica, Honduras and Nicaragua.

But by far my greatest musical encounter was with Billie Holiday, a long-lasting memory that unfolded on a bone-chilling cold evening in Utah when I traveled from Provo to Salt Lake City to the historic Capital Theatre in the heart of downtown. The Italian Renaissance building dating to 1913 was hosting Jazz at the Philharmonic featuring jazz greats Roy Eldridge, Flip Phillips, Oscar Peterson, Gene Krupa and Herb Ellis, and it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to hear Billie Holiday live, and an unforgettable thrill. She walked across the stage to the microphone wearing a white gown, a flower in her hair, and without a word sang “Love for Sale,” “Moonglow,” and “I’ll Be Seeing You.” With incredible musical backing, only her lips moved, her arms and body completely stationary. Her voice a spine tingling bluesy and sensual mix of love and sorrow and defiance, bending her phrases, falling behind the beat, and then her rhythm up front with perfect pitch, and a sound that spoke of her turbulent life with a surge of enormous haunting.

I heard from local musicians that after the concert there was going to be a late-night jam session happening at the Ralph Blaze nightclub with the touring greats performing. Ralph Blaze, a former Stan Kenton guitarist who fell in love with a Salt Lake City lady, opened the club with a jazz quartet, but at the time not so popular with some of the Mormon officials.

I parked my car near the rear entrance off an alley where Billie Holiday and the musicians with their instruments were huddled in a small group waiting for the door to open. Excited and with nervous chills I walked over to them and stood near Billie in complete awe. She was wearing a huge fur coat and I could smell her perfume in the icy air. She looked at me and stepping closer, smiling, eyes glowing, and holding up a cigarette in one hand said in a soft voice, “Do you have a light?” I shakily replied, “Sorry I don’t smoke.” I was so taken back that I was unable to even tell her how much I enjoyed her singing, and later wished I had said, “No, but I will find one!” And who in hell cares if I don’t smoke. Everyone was stamping their feet in the frigid weather to keep warm, while Billie was snuggled in her fur coat, as huge snowflakes were beginning to fall. The club never opened.

The musicians and Billie headed to the Hotel Newhouse an okay hotel, but second rate compared to the gorgeous five-star, palace-like Hotel Utah, where blacks were not allowed. Billie Holiday died in New York City a few years later in 1959, age 44. but for me she is a forever memory.

T.E. Mattox | T-Boy writer:

The Blues – The Mississippi Delta

The Delta blues is one of the earliest styles of blues music, which originated in the Mississippi Delta, an area between Memphis, Tennessee and Vicksburg, Mississippi, and east to west to the Yazoo River and the Mississippi River. More famous blues musicians have come from this area than any other region (or state) combined. The Mississippi Delta is historically famous for a town called Clarksdale – better known as the Blues Crossroads. Legend has it that’s where Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil.

Visit the Hopson Plantation and spend the night at a restored sharecropper shack at the Shack Up Inn. The evenings are filled with blues at Ground Zero, Red’s or the Juke Joint Chapel. An amazing cultural and musical emersion you’ll want to experience again and again. Robert Nighthawk, Sunnyland Slim, James Cotton, Chester Burnett (Howlin’ Wolf), Bukka White, Charlie Musselwhite, Sonny Boy Williamson II, Big Bill Broonzy, Carey Bell, Tommy Johnson, John Lee Hooker, Charley Patton, Son House… some made their names in Chicago, some made their names in the South, but all were born in Mississippi.

Phil Marley | Poet:

Edvard Grieg – Troldhaugen – Bergen, Norway

Despite his diminutive 5 ft frame, Norwegian composer Edvard Hagerup Grieg was a towering rock star long before the expression existed. Born into a successful Bergen merchant family in 1843, his life dramatically changed when violin virtuoso Ole Bull recognized his talent and introduced him to the treasures of Norwegian folk music. Grieg studied the masters abroad but dreamed of reprieves to his beloved Norwegian countryside – a pattern which continued after he became a world-renowned composer.

With money now filling his pockets, Grieg and his wife built a home on Lake Nordås on the edge of Bergen, which he called his best opus so far. Christened Troldhaugen, the Victorian villa became a center piece for Bergen’s artistic community and visiting dignitaries. Grieg enjoyed his guests, but needed quiet to work, and built a composer’s hut by the lake. Grieg died in 1907 of chronic exhaustion. But today his legacy lives on at Troldhaugen – a living museum consisting of the Edvard Grieg Museum, the Villa, the Composer’s Hut, Concert Hall and Edvard Grieg´s tomb. My highpoint was a concert at Troldhaugen recital hall, which is discreetly built partially underground ground, complete with sod roof. The floor-to-ceiling windows behind the stage overlooks the composer’s hut where Grieg would work, superstitiously sitting on a stack of sheet music by Beethoven so that he could reach the piano. At the end of each day, he would leave a note: “If anyone should break in here, please leave the musical scores, since they have no value to anyone except Edvard Grieg.”

Fyllis Hockman | T-Boy writer:

Ah, you lose me on this one

The last time I listened to music was folk at Washington Square in the Village in high school … A lot of renditions of “We Shall Overcome!”

Skip Kaltenheuser | T-Boy writer:

Easy contenders

Trinidad, New Orleans, Kansas City, Lafayette, Louisiana International Music Festival, and the Riviera Maya Jazz Festival.

Raoul Pascual | T-Boy Contributor:

Smorgasbord Music – Los Angeles

I guess I’m spoiled here in Los Angeles, Southern California — aka Hollywood. Within a 50 mile radius, there are hundreds of concert venues. Christmas and summer time are the peak season for these events. In my hometown alone, each Thursday in August, there are free (city-sponsored) concerts at the park featuring several excellent bands. One August, they had a Rock ‘n Roll band, next week was Pop music, then Jazz and last they had Mariachi bands. Southern California overflows with talent. Many start in the local pubs and town concerts waiting for their big break.

My favorite artists are James Taylor, Carole King, Kenny Loggins, America, Earth Wind and Fire, Kenny Rankin, Earl Klugh, Toto, Journey, Sting, Swing Out Sisters, Adele, Hall and Oates, The Carpenters, Michael Jackson, Billy Joel, Paul McCartney, Phil Collins, Neal Diamond, The Eagles, Louis Armstrong, George Benson, Burt Bacharach, The Temptations, The 5th Dimension, The Beach Boys, Al Jarreau, Quincy Jones, James Ingram, Patti Labelle, Serjio Mendez, Andrea Bocelli, Yo-yo Ma, The Beegees, Glen Campbell, Amy Grant, Eric Clapton, Michelle Branch, Randy Crawford, Hall and Oates, Fleetwood Mac, Blood Sweat and Tears, Chicago, Gladys Knight and the Pips, etc. — and the common denominator of all these stars? They all perform here in Los Angeles (at least the ones who are still breathing).

Maybe that’s why taxes in California is among the highest in the world — we pay for the amazing weather and the dream of bumping into the stars who decide to live and perform here. Californians may have a hand-to-mouth existence but who cares as long as we have our concerts, right?

Weave Cleveland | T-Boy writer:

A Zenith of Music – Los Angeles.

I have had the good fortune to spend the majority of my life directly in the music business. Sales, distribution, performance, composition, instrument repair, studio sessions, babysitting famous players, working big awards shows – and of course thousands of concerts and back stage access. Needless to say I am always excited about music.

As a player and a writer it’s impossible to listen to music the way non-players do. I am always analyzing chords voicings in my head, supposing different arrangements, trying to figure out which microphones were used, listening to my favourite recordings… sometimes for years and still discovering something I missed, a new discovery.

A person’s ear develops with practice. I can hear Bruce Hornsby’s damper pedal squeak and I can hear an edit point of Sir Georgia Martins’ on the “Sgt. Pepper’s” album.

I’ve heard great street musicians in Vienna and stellar musicianship on a summer festival stage in Krakow. Okay. It’s time to stop rambling because it’s everywhere from New Orleans to Winnipeg.

The BEST music destination I have ever been knocked out in has to be LOS ANGELES, California. My LA trips have always revolved around NAMM trade shows. I know the world comes together there but a vast majority of the performers are actually based there. Go to the Troubadour, or head on out to Laurel Canyon, or the Hard Rock in Anaheim… you’re apt to be blown away and shiver in your shoes with what you are going to experience.

Latin Jazz supreme, Avante Garde guitar based rock, finger-style glory, Heavy Metal extraordinaire, that girl who makes a theremin play like Ron Carter or Charles Mingus, Thomas Dolby putting together a band of brilliance to equal what’s in his head, the players are there! All the session musicians and the tv and movie soundtrack work. A supportive union.

I don’t know where all the talent comes from exactly, a liberated mind, a devoted practitioner, the water? Los Angeles is where I have experienced this zenith. I hope you stumble across your own experience in Los Angles so you can see what I am talking about.

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In the early 1950s, while Grant was staying at his luxurious Mayfair Hotel penthouse suite, he placed chocolates on the suite’s bedroom pillow for a certain woman who was meeting him there. He was married to actress Betsy Drake at the time – his third wife out of five – but he had another ‘female friend’ in mind. And for his plans of seduction, he designed a breadcrumb trail of chocolates, leading from the suite’s sitting room into the bedroom where he placed the final bit of sweets on his pillow. The name of his soon-to-be bedmate is still unknown, as are the contents of a love letter he left beside the chocolates. As expected, the woman arrived at the suite before Grant, where his romantic ploy was an Oscar winning success.

The manager on duty noticed Grant’s ploy and started the regular practice of leaving a nighttime chocolate on guests’ pillows. And that very tradition still continues at the Magnolia St. Louis, as part of its turndown service, but with chocolates now from Bissinger’s, regarded as one of the finest chocolatiers in St. Louis.

Today, guests can stay at the Magnolia’s Cary Grant Suite which is a fusion of old-world style with modern elements and technological enhancements The augmentation also includes an executive desk; tufted faux leather headboards with ecru woven textured bedding; gray and taupe textured fibers, woven into carpeting repeating the color palette of the floor to ceiling drapery with sewn-in blackout lining. And, of course, the suite is shrouded with Cary Grant photographs amd momentos.

Guests can continue their Cary Grant homage by dining at the Magnolia’s Robie’s Restaurant and Lounge, named for John Robie, Grant’s suave former jewel thief in the Alfred Hitchcock 1955 film, To Catch a Thief. So, the next time you stay at a hotel and enjoy the chocolate, cookie bite, or mint, remember that we have Cary Grant’ to thank for it. Readers, please note, you will not find Grant’s letter on the pillow: believed to be, Compliments of C. Grant: Have a restful sleep.

Who Was Cary Grant & Why Do We Keep Talking About Him?

Everybody wants to be Cary Grant. Even I want to be Cary Grant. I have spent the greater part of my life fluctuating between Archie Leach and Cary Grant; unsure of either, suspecting each. I pretended to be somebody I wanted to be until finally I became that person. Or he became me. – Cary Grant

Grant was born Archibald Alexander Leach (1904) in a working class home in Bristol, England, a fishing town which offered few opportunities. In his youth he possessed a sense of drive, much like the early life of Charlie Chaplin in the slums in Victorian London. He felt he had no choice but to pull himself up by his bootstraps to eventually becoming an American stage and vaudevillian star, and then, after seemingly endless years on the road to be one of Hollywood’s most iconic film actors. With his distinctive Mid-Atlantic accent and impeccable timing, he was considered the foremost exemplar of the debonair leading man, not only handsome, but also witty, charming and masculine.

Film critic Robin Wood noted that the Bond films would never have happened if not for Alfred Hitchcock’s North by Northwest (1959), with Grant in the lead role. Grant was the first actor asked to play the role of James Bond in Dr. No (1962) at the advent of the James Bond film franchise, but decided to pass due to age. He had come a long way since he worked as a stilt walker at Brooklyn’s Coney Island.

Grant, His Mother & Failed Marriages

Grant’s father, ravaged by years of alcoholism, worked as a tailor’s presser, while his mother was a seamstress. His older brother passed away at age one, and biographer Geoffrey Wansell notes that his mother blamed herself bitterly for the death, and never recovered from it. Nevertheless, his mother taught young Archie to sing and dance, insisted on piano lessons, and occasionally took him to the cinema.

Grant’s biographer Graham McCann claimed that his mother did not know how to give affection and did not how to receive it either. Grant acknowledged that his negative experiences with his mother affected his relationships with women later in life. Grant attributed her behavior to overprotectiveness, fearing that she would lose him as she did John..

When Grant was nine years old, his father placed his mother in a mental institution, and told him that she had gone away on a “long holiday”, which later ended with her death. To a degree, this resembled Chaplin’s relationship with his own fragile mother, often returning home from grade school to find that she had been placed in a mental ward. Grant did not learn that his mother was actually still alive until he was 31; and made arrangements to support her for the rest of her life, yet only visiting her once in 1938.

Cary Grant’s 1949 marriage to Betsy Drake constituted his longest martial union, but they separated in 1958 and divorced in 1962. Grant credited her with broadening his interests beyond his career and with introducing him to the then-legal LSD therapy and to hypnosis.

In the 1950s, after Grant had become the wildly successful star, he sought professional help to cope with the lingering emotions over his traumatic childhood. In particular, his failed marriages weighed on him. He tried hypnosis, yoga, and supervised LSD experimentation. During his LSD hallucinations, Grant was able to confront and overcome the unconscious motivation that had undermined his marriages: anger and sorrow over his mother. He credited Dr. Hartman’s treatment for helping him understand how his mother’s disappearance had triggered a self-sabotaging pattern of relationships.

A Brief Look at Grant’s Career from an Auteurist Perspective

Upon Cary Grant’s arrival in Hollywood he was dismissed by casting directors due to his thick neck and bowlegged walk. But, a year later, he appeared in crime films or dramas as a handsome, yet wooden, costar in films by Josef von Sternberg in Blonde Venus (1932) with Marlene Dietrich, and She Done Him Wrong (1933) with Mae West, who apparently took one look at him and said, If can talk, I’ll take him. But Cary Grant becoming Cary Grant, the Cary Grant persona in which he is famous, began with his role co-starring with Katherine Hepburn in George Cukor’s Sylvia Scarlett (1935) as the rough, but charming Cockney swindler, Jimmy Monkley. Leo McCarey’s 1937 comedy The Awful Truth (1937) with Irene Dunne proved to be a smash box office success and furthered to concrete Grant’s sophisticated comedic image; later he followed with two more Cukor comedies with Hepburn, Holiday (1938) and The Philadelphia Story (1940).

But it was his roles in Howard Hawks’ screwball comedies, Bringing Up Baby (1938) with Hepburn again, and His Girl Friday (1940) with Rosalind Russell, which are frequently cited among the greatest comedy films of all time. Hawks continued to cast him in what are regarded as the lesser comedies, I Was a Male War Bride (1949) and Monkey Business (1952), and but also in the earlier 1939 drama, Only Angels Have Wings, where Grant delivered the goods with a powerful dramatic performance.

Cary & Hitch

During the 1940s and 1950s, Grant developed a close working relationship with Alfred Hitchcock, who cast him in four films: Suspicion (1941) opposite Joan Fontaine, Notorious (1946) opposite Ingrid Bergman, North by Northwest (1959) alongside James Mason and Eva Marie Saint, and To Catch a Thief (1955) with Grace Kelly. The last two of the four capitulated audiences and film critics alike, while the first two film dramas, Suspicion and Notorious, Hitchcock revealed a darker, more ambiguous nature in Grant’s characters.

Toward the end of his career, Grant was praised by critics primarily as a romantic leading man, and received five nominations for the Golden Globe Award for Best Actor, which included a pair of Stanley Donen features, Indiscreet (1958) again with Bergman, and Charade (1963) with Audrey Hepburn. Cary Grant died at age 82 of a cerebral hemorrhage. His marriage to Dyan Cannon, which ended in divorce, produced his only child, Jennifer, who was the centerpiece of his life and his greatest work of art.

Cary Grant is most remembered for his broad appeal as a handsome, suave actor who did not take himself too seriously, and able to play with his own dignity in comedies without sacrificing it entirely. The story of chocolates on the pillow continues to speak to lovers throughout the world with a special affection to the art of seduction.

For more on Celebrity Suites, visit Hemingway, John & Yoko, Oscar Wilde Celebrity Hotel Rooms & Suites: Part I – Traveling Boy; The Beatles, Coco Chanel, Jim Morrison Celebrity Suites, Part 2 – Traveling Boy; Katharine Hepburn, Salvador Dali, Gwyneth Paltrow Celebrity Suites, Part 3 – Traveling Boy; Francis Ford Coppola, Nelson Mandela, J.K. Rowling, Richard Harris Celebrity Hotel Rooms & Suites, Part 4 – Traveling Boy; and Elizabeth Taylor & Richard Burton, Ava Gardner, Audrey Hepburn Celebrity Suites Part 5 – Traveling Boy

A Bite About Chocolate – Courtesy of the World Cocoa Foundation

Cocoa and other chocolate products are enjoyed by billions of people around the globe, but surprisingly few people know the history of the confection. In fact, cocoa has appeared in different cultures worldwide for hundreds of years. Cocoa was first developed as a crop in many ancient South American cultures, with the Aztecs and Mayans being the most well-known of these indigenous populations. Researchers have found evidence of cocoa-based food dating back several thousand years. READ MORE History of Cocoa | World Cocoa Foundation

Click here for further information about the Cary Grant Suite at the Magnolia St. Louis.

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