Author: leanagallagher

A little trip to London with Kirsten. Boston first for a night with my sister and then I’m off.

This is a quick trip, done economy style – not my usual mode of travel, but it’s good to see what you can tolerate. We bought bargain basement tickets that came with no baggage allowance or seat assignments (and yes, they are coach seats). Packing was a challenge.

2 slacks, 2 sweaters, 2 turtlenecks, 2 scarves, 2 shoes, one skirt and one pair of tights. All mix and match. A vest and a puff coat and ear muffs. Let’s see if I can pull this off.

Jacksonville didn’t disappoint – no lines anywhere. Priority Pass lounge is closed for renovation, and the Delta lounge would have taken me with my Amex, but because I bought a basic economy seat, I was refused. So much for a free meal on my austerity program.

I told Brad that I was taking the subway and he balked until I told him it was $2.40. I was at my sister’s house in 40 minutes, door to door at rush hour. My room and amenities are divine.

Boston’s weather was a balmy 70 degrees and lovely. We took a walk and within 5 blocks we picked from Indian, Japanese, Chinese, Italian, steakhouse, Mexican, Argentinian and Vietnamese. Gotta love this city (Vietnamese always wins with me).

So, I go to sleep happily dreaming of London and all her charms.

This is always where I write my thoughts on the trip after I’ve had some time to digest.

I was very impressed by all the people that we met throughout the trip. Granted, many were tourists, but we mingled with some Westerners as well. I really expected an angrier, more hostile crowd in this divided country before an election. Instead, I found almost everyone we encountered to be accepting and thoughtful. There is very much a live and let live approach to life, and everyone might need to depend on everyone else at some point.

Yellowstone and the Tetons are certainly impressive, but in our world of video and Disney, they weren’t as impressive as I had imagined. I’m not a science geek, so thermal pools were interesting, but not gobsmacking. We were already at 7000 feet, so the the mountains didn’t seem gigantic. Mount Washington is almost 7000 feet and you start at sea level. So it felt similar. Old Faithful was terrific, but if you’ve seen the water show at the Bellagio, it’s kind of meh. The animals were lovely, but White Oak Conservancy spoils you for life.

Beauty is what I crave. Lake Jackson, the largest glacier lake in the lower 48, is gorgeous, but the Achensee in Austria was far more beautiful (to me). The Val Gardena in Ortesei was exceptionally beautiful, and there’s nothing like a well appointed room with a goose down comforter and a great glass of wine with a lovely meal after being outdoors. I’m a creature of comfort and luxury.

With that said, it is an amazing thing that these gorgeous parks are wild and free. The fresh air and views are lovely, but they are not the British Cotswolds or Cortina d’Ampezzo.

I totally relaxed because I wasn’t in charge and Brad had a whole group of lovely English speakers to chat with. It was stress free and I learned a lot, but I don’t crave going back.

The best part of the trip for me was the small museum in Bozeman that described all the people that settled the West. I love to envision the lives and experiences of those pioneers. Montana State was a revelation. So many interesting kids and such a terrific campus.

Bozeman was really liveable and lovely, but the little town of Livingston has my heart. Artists, authors, a real Western town without the tourists. Jackson is gorgeous – pictures below – but it’s Nantucket. A made up town that has priced out the locals.

The air was dry, my skin was rough and my nose crusty. How can these towns surrounded by pristine streams and lakes have such putrid tap water? Why does the Park allow those bandit corporations to provide such mediocre lodging and food? The entire world comes here and this is what we show them? You can go to a rural town in Scotland or Sicily and get an old fashioned room that is charming and comfortable. And let’s not discuss the food. Can’t some billionaire who loves the West make this his or her passion project?

Anyway, I digress. It was a wonderful getaway with lovely people and exceptional guides. We covered a lot of ground, got a taste of everything, learned a lot and unplugged.

I am home in my linen sheeted bed after a long scented soak in my tub, the air has moisture in it, the moon is high in the sky and I get to pick tomatoes tomorrow!

Here are some pictures of Jackson, WY.

Yippee Aye A….

Our last full day here in Wyoming. The vistas are beautiful and the air has turned cold. We’ve gone from 90 degrees earlier in the week to 45 degrees this morning.

Brad and I fell asleep last night to the sound of rain on the roof of our cabin.

Sleep was delicious, so we skipped the early scouting trip and had coffee in bed. The rain abated, but overcast skies and a good wind required the hats and gloves and fleece and Gortex we’ve been dragging around. We headed to the Snake River for a “Float”.

Able guides and oarsmen loaded us into rafts, and our guide poled us down the icy river in currents and wind. A Western gondola ride.

The Float was the way Westerners traveled in the 1800’s. Their rafts were wooden, not rubber, but the water was rough, the weather unfair, the current unpredictable and the rocks beneath ever changing. It was our first small taste of what the pioneers dealt with. We were on the river for two chilling hours, but it was important to be uncomfortable to really understand a bit of what life must have been like. It gave me time to think, for my mind to wander, and to be truly one with the scenery. Not much talking, just the elements and me.

A warm lunch in a local restaurant was a nice dose of the modern world and everyone felt more convivial. The three sisters left for a spa weekend (great planning!) and we headed out to look for moose.

We got as far as the parking lot and one of our travelers spotted one behind the restaurant. We all jumped out of the vans – how lucky. We drove a bit further and stumbled on another group.

A good day. A few more pronghorn, a couple of eagles, a trumpeter swan and we were done for the day.

We did a quick freshen up and headed out to dinner in town. We stopped by the creek for just another little dose of tranquility.

The last dinner with the group was lovely. Our little team of travelers got along so well. We were a varied bunch, all East Coasters, but we all shared kindness and acceptance and found numerous similarities and connections. I do hope we see each other again because we’ve shared a special time in our lives.

Our guides were outstanding – as individuals and leaders. Knowledgeable, competent, friendly and deeply complex and interesting souls. They enhanced the trip in so many ways and were flexible yet organized. I am a hard marker (as all of you know), but Nathaniel Dodge and Erin Roberg should be asked for and sought out. It was an exceptional experience.

The sun was almost set when we returned back to our compound. Fires lit in the Tee Pee and around the river bank. We are full and tired and ready for bed.

The airport awaits. Wish us luck traveling.

A geologist I’m not, but even I can appreciate the boiling, roiling, geo thermal action that encompasses this part of the park. We started early on a crisp morning here. We hiked around small geysers, mud pots, and hot springs. The pictures won’t do it justice.

The landscape is lunar. You’re at almost 7000 feet and it feels like sea level. We are literally standing on a volcano that spits and boils all day and all night. The water in these crystal clear aqua blue pools is 180 degrees, and it’s boiling up and rolling down hillside leaving minerals and bacteria and killing everything in site. It looks like a barren wasteland with boiling pools that smell like sulphur. And then you go a mile down the road and it’s all pine trees and streams. It’s hard to wrap your head around it.

It was a full day of wandering around springs and geysers on boardwalks and trails. It really would be like visiting another planet if not for all of the tourists – that’s a whole story for another day.

This time of year the park attracts older people like us. Many of the international tours are finished for the season, so it’s just older Americans visiting the park for the most part. I’m not going to elaborate, but let’s just say that it’s an inelegant crowd.

Old Faithful is right behind our hotel and shoots boiling water high into the air every few hours day and night. It is the epicenter of the park. Because of it, the Old Faithful Inn was built in 1904 and it is the most beautiful structure.

This hotel is the model by which all National Park buildings are designed. It is rustic, fanciful, and wonderfully restored and maintained. Tax dollars to be proud of. It is built with lodgepole pine from the area, and the architect had crews hunting for interesting twists and burls of wood that were incorporated into the design. The original blacksmith work is still being used for door handles and room numbers, and the lighting fixtures have been replaced, but to the exact initial design.

The building was electrified by two DC generators that were driven by steam from wood furnaces. Only 15 of the original rooms have private baths, the rest share a bath down the hall. Two newer wings were added with a more modern design (and bathrooms).

Thinking about how this building was constructed (mostly by immigrant Chinese labor), who stayed here (only the very wealthy), and how it has remained through brutal winters, a large earthquake and a devastating wildfire makes it so much more than a hotel. It has a history and a personality and a determination to exist. It was almost more interesting than the geysers.

On another note, expectations for lodging and food should be modest. It’s a let down for me to have bad food and basic lodging and that is all there is here. I just see such an opportunity to show this vast swath of Americans and visitors how good and nutritious food can be, and how innovative American ingenuity can be with a small room. Instead, frozen French fries and crappy towels with spotty internet. It was better in Romania – truly. But alas, maybe this is American culture and it’s all part of the experience. I hate it to be so.

We are leaving Yellowstone tomorrow and off to the Tetons and Jackson. More adventures await.

We have two very capable guides, Erin and Nathaniel, who know more about the natural world than I can fathom. Nathaniel guides all over the world with National Geographic, but lives here in that sweet town of Livingston and Erin is his partner. They are smart and sweet and competent, and therefore I am relaxed.

We are traveling in style in a luxury van with three lovely sisters from Upstate New York and Nathaniel. The other 6 guests are with Erin. Gorgeous vistas abound, the Park is not overly crowded, and the weather is hot, but lovely. All of us were expecting cooler temps, so we were over dressed.

We saw Pronghorn – an ancient species confused with antelopes, and Pika, a rabbit like animal that is rarely spotted (Erin had never seen one).

We stopped for lunch at a picnic area and struck up a conversation with a German couple that own a Mercedes Unimog that they are camping in. It has 400k miles on it and they shipped it from Hamburg to Halifax, Nova Scotia and then travelled through the US. Brad was impressed.

On to Mammoth Springs to see the most outrageous landscapes. Scalding water, 15 miles underground, comes up through limestone, bringing up limestone dust which covers large areas, making a moonscape.

Boardwalks are the only place you can walk, and there are miles of them. Every area looks different, and it’s surreal. The initial settlers and visitors must have felt like they discovered a distant planet. The water was boiling, the sun was very strong, and there is not a drop of moisture in the high altitude thin air. It beat us up.

We hobbled down to the main Yellowstone Visitor Center and sucked up some air conditioning and made our way to our hotel. After a shower and a rest we could appreciate the rushing river right below us and the elk on the opposite shore.

We had a sweet dinner at a local spot (trout for me, bison for Brad) and came back to watch the moon over the river before heading to bed.

The day felt long. We didn’t really do very much walking, but there was a lot of sensory overload, unexpected heat and high altitudes. How people survived without enough water or supplies, I will never know. It is an awesome place, but a punishing place. I think I expected a more Hansel and Gretel like environment.

We left the windows open to hear the river and hopefully some elk braying tonight, but our screen wasn’t properly fitted, and 72 small bugs have been murdered by me so far. They are attracted to the light of the IPad as I write. Windows closed, AC on, and we will miss the call of the Elks. The natural world is nice, but I’m a modern girl.

Good night from the bug fest. More tomorrow.

We’ve had a nice time here in Bozeman. No heavy lifting, and pleasant all the way around. We’ve learned a lot, and it’s made us think a lot about the middle of the country.

The people that settled here were tough hombres. The weather here can be cruel, and it’s so vast that isolation must have been harder than the weather. It’s a special person that can deal with the hardships of distance and extreme weather and still be an innovator and entrepreneur.

It seems to have made people here more independent, and more forgiving. We saw a mom in Livingston with her 6 year old son, riding bikes to meet Gram at a restaurant. The little tyke navigating the road and cars, helping himself to a buffet that was above his head, and carrying a real plate to the cashier for weighing – it wasn’t his first rodeo. Kindness is embedded into these people – every service person genuinely wanted to help us. You learn to be nice to each other because we all need each other.

The older people in town are walking around in jeans and hiking boots, stopping to chat, heading to yoga class, and ordering chai lattes in hip cafes. No room for complaining. They are holding up political signs and urging the young people to vote and care. Young people were the volunteers at all the museums and the university offers everything from Bill McKibbon and Isabelle Allende lectures to drag Queen brunches.

There was one well dressed student today, but overall there is no fashion sense. Not even the gay men.

We started the cool morning in front of a fire and headed to Rockford Coffee for a great cup. We took a leisurely walk and headed out to drop the car. We wanted to see the living history museum and the University was right next door, so we had breakfast with the Bobcats.

We haven’t been to a dining commons in years, but MSU’s is locally sourced and diverse. Gorgeous fruit, local sausage and homemade rhubarb strawberry compote with allspice (yes, Brad had eggs and toast). We walked around the campus, heard the carillon bells and took pictures of the trees and birds.

The Living History museum didn’t disappoint. Lovely MSU students in period dress, knitting, feeding chickens and interpreting.

We hung around town in the afternoon in front of the Co op and watched greater Bozeman walk by. Everyone third person had a yellow MSU Bobcats T-shirt as there is a game tonight. We talked to the local horse and carriage operator and stumbled upon one of the loveliest chocolate shops that I’ve ever been in. Such a lovely surprise.

The high school boy who waited on me was a delight. The chocolates are all made on site and the owner is French. We sat and sampled and bought treats for our trip. What about a trip to France with this wonderful couple next year? Who’s with me?

So we’ve finally met our crew tonight. Our guides are very experienced and really easy. The people we’ll be traveling with are also easy to get along with and intrepid travelers all. I know we will learn a lot.

We are packed and ready and watching the Bobcats decimate Maine football team. I’m reading some Annie Proulx Western stories tonight and looking forward to the week ahead.

Talk to you from Yellowstone.

What can I say? I’m a New Englander. So what did we do today in the vast West? We visited museums and a university .

We got up early and headed to breakfast – decided to try a new place, but we were clearly unwelcome (Brad said it looked like a Maga convention), so we skipped the fisheye and headed back to Jams again where all are welcome. The difference in the vibe was palpable. We were greeted with “you look familiar” and ate a delicious breakfast.

Fortified, we went for a dip in the rooftop pool and contemplated the mountains, then headed to the Gallatin County Museum and encountered the delightful Marquetta who thoughtfully showed us around.

Can’t begin to tell you how great and informative this museum was – the old 1911 jail houses the museum (it was a county jail till 1982!), and it was exquisitely laid out with so many interesting exhibits. We chatted and researched and pondered and asked more questions. Such a wonderful resource, and all privately funded.

From medical practices to robbers and murderers to high school photos and ways of life, this place was a repository of the county’s history set up in an enchanting way. The best tidbit was the story of our little known history hero, Albert Gallatin, who I will be researching tonight.

After an architectural tour of the town, spurred on by a conversation with Marquetta, we fell in love with Fred Willson, another unsung hero. Here are a couple of of his varied designs.

Then off to the Museum of the Rockies, which was heavily dinosaur focused. Really amazing digs in the area and interactively displayed with the scientists explaining how they date and assemble the fossils.

An old water wagon, a bison, an old farm reassembled — just a great museum.

Oh, and let’s not forget the trappers! Look what we found in the furrier section

Then off to Montana State University because Brad and I cannot ever pass up a college tour. All those smart kids give us hope for the future.

The college is mostly a very modern campus, but it was an original land grant college and the early buildings are still in tact. We chatted with the Voter registration volunteers, the art students who had an exhibit about their year in Siracusa, Sicily, and the lovely admissions officer who loaded us up with swag. Mountains and Minds is their logo.

We drove east to see a cute little town called Livingston – probably what Bozeman was like 20 years ago. We wandered into a community restaurant, chatted with locals and just soaked it all in.

A little quiet time and a shower were needed, then we headed downstairs for the lobby cocktail hour. Tonight we met a Roman interior designer and his art curator wife and her parents who were touring the area because of friends that owned a local business. We had just met the friends the day before, so we got into conversations about the Hudson Valley (where they live), Italian cinema (I need to see Una Giornata Particolare), the merits of the Dolomites and reclaimed wood in construction (Bozeman is the Epicenter).

We each headed to our respective restaurants. Tonight was Fresco. We sat at the bar and chatted with Michelle who has travelled all over the world as a chef, did a stint in hell for some wealthy families in Big Sky, and gave us a good look at the social network and politics of Gallatin county. A good dinner, but better conversation.

Another full day under our belts. We meet our group tomorrow. I can only hope they are as interesting as the chance encounters we’ve had.

We’ve acclimated to the time and slept really soundly, and Brad is big on breakfast, so we headed to a nearby restaurant called Jams. It was everything you’d want in a breakfast place – great food, sassy tattooed waitresses, and interesting eavesdropping at nearby tables. Sort of reminded us of the Friendly Toast.

Brad was feeling adventurous and order hash (excellent) and I had arugula with a perfectly poached egg. Coffee in both our room and restaurant left something to be desired, so we will try one of the million coffee shops tomorrow.

We walked around the downtown to get our bearings, and ended up in a fantastic bookstore. Huge and well curated selection, and busy first thing in the morning.

We decided to go see Big Sky. No idea what to expect, but we’ve all heard the name bantered around, right? An hour’s drive along the Gallatin River into the small town of Big Sky, only to find out that the Big Sky Resort is much further up a long, narrow, winding road. The Yellowstone Club beyond that in another direction. Lots of ‘Members Only’, ‘No Admittance’ signs, coupled with large gravel filled trucks struggling up hill while our ears were popping and we aborted.

One cute story, we pulled over at a turnout to have a quiet look at the mountains, and a tricked out red Jeep pulled in and flew down what looked like the edge of the mountain. It just disappeared into the woods. On further inspection, there was a path in the woods, but tiny, bumpy and with knee high grass. Where that car was going is a mystery.

We did see lots of fly fishermen in the river along with some rafts. It was a sweet excursion, but I was happy to get back to civilization.

We stopped at the local food coop for lunch. It smelled like an old Erewhon store. Very hippie.

Because we got skunked at Big Sky, we took a short hike in a local park that had beautiful views and linked us to the library.

The library was amazing! Gorgeous and creative. Artwork, reading lounges, a 3D printer, craft room and a cool program for kids to do a tasting of sweet and sour. We hung and perused and chatted with the librarians.

We didn’t realize it but we were walking on the Gallagator Trail!

On the way back, we saw a tight rope set up about 4 feet off the ground between two huge trees – what a fun activity!

Jet lag, heat, windy mountain roads all caught up with us, and we crashed for a few hours. Dinner was at a sweet restaurant called Blackbird, we walked around the town, met some shop keepers and finished with ice cream. Here are some shots of the town.

A couple of observations about Bozeman; most restaurant and shop employees are women. Tattoos are ubiquitous. Everyone dresses casually, but men make a sport of it. Has to be the worse dressed men I’ve ever seen – rumpled is an art form, and ugly shoes prevail. On the bright side, many elderly people seem vibrant and ambulatory. It is a good mix of young and old, and everyone seems to be happy (and poorly dressed).

So, I’m confirming my status as a New Englander. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

We are heading to Yellowstone National Park this morning, and we think we’ve packed correctly. We’ll soon find out — mountain people, we are not.

Couldn’t find a limo company to take us and bring us (our usual is out of business, and one never called back), so we took Ruby and scored a parking spot in the B garage at Logan, adjacent to our airline for a reasonable price. All systems go,

2 hours to Logan, late for the plane and no signs directing us to B garage. Three frantic trips around the airport, one stop inside to ask, and finally the entrance. Then it turned around – United Airlines staff took our bags, no line at TSA, and onto the plane and first for take off. We may have spent 15 minutes inside the airport.

Enough time in Denver to have a lovely lunch at the Centurion Lounge, which never disappoints. Do you know this entrance wall has 780 live plants? It’s such a soothing place. Off to Bozeman.

Nicest airport I’ve ever been in. Gorgeous wood, fireplaces, stone and views of the mountains. Our bags got routed through Chicago and would arrive later tonight. Again, a lovely UA rep helped us get the bags delivered and we got our car and we’re off.

Scenic 20 minute drive to the Kimpton Armory hotel in downtown Bozeman. The downtown is surrounded by bucolic neighborhoods full of craftsman bungalows. Easy parking, gracious welcome, and comfortable digs. Kimpton has a cocktail hour each day, and we sat next to an unassuming couple from Colorado who turned out to be so interesting and intelligent. Had an hour long discussion about art, politics, music, wolves, invasive trout and travel while sipping rhubarb smashes. Welcome to the West!

There is a lovely rooftop pool at the hotel, and we decided to take a dip. Met a mother and daughter (Seattle and Bozeman) who were also lovely and a delight to talk to. Mom was an eye surgeon, so the conversation skewed toward healthcare. Such terrific chance encounters.

At the suggestion of the Colorado couple, we ate in the hotel. Great meal with super staff. Our waitress was from Las Vegas and was hip and chic and pleasant, and as the night was slow, the chef came out and chatted and recommended. Brad had steak and salad with blue cheese mashed potatoes (terrific salad with handfuls of herbs and roasted fennel), and I tried the the stuffed egg with trout roe, the bison meatball with whipped feta, the bok choy in coconut milk and a spicy Cesar salad. Brad finished with a blueberry pavlova. Lovely.

Bags arrived, sleep came quickly.

Venice is just a treasure trove of beauty. The city itself is amazing, the buildings are in a state of elegant decay, the carvings, the bridges, the canals, the light, but the artwork….. overwhelming. You need weeks here, not days.

Far from perfect, the centuries have taken their toll, but the beauty is beguiling. I can’t imagine what it was like when it was all fresh and new.

We spent the day with Antonella, a certified historical guide that Michele, the concierge, arranged for us. Michele left the Gritti Palace to come work here. Tomasso, his associate, left the Cipriani when the French bought it. The team here is first rate. I don’t think I showed you the lobby – it’s on the third floor, in Venetian style.

The hotel was the former stock exchange for Venice. The building had been empty for at least 20 years when the exchange moved to the mainland. On our extensive walk around the city, we saw the original Merchant Exchange and the first bank. Dating back to the 12th century.

We learned about the Republic of Venezia, the Doges, the Senators, the Noble families and progressive style of governing Venice enjoyed. It’s heyday were the 1500’s, when it was the Merchant of the World. Women could inherit property and money; doweries could be revoked for bad treatment of the women; women could run businesses; and the Republic’s laws were made by a group of 400 with equal votes.

Books were treasured and the most extensive private library was opened to the public 2 days a week and left to the state upon the owner’s death. The printing press was adopted early, and the law ensured that for every book that was printed here, one volume went to the library. The library currently holds over 1 million volumes.

The Correr museum is attached to the library and we spent the better part of an hour visiting the rooms and learning the twists and turns of Venetian history. The building originally housed the State offices; then Napoleon came in and redecorated badly, razing buildings; then the Hapsburgs came in and glitzed things up until the First World War. Each left their mark.

Each room was dazzling, the history fascinating, and scope of it was insane. And this was one museum. We never saw the church or the Palazzo Ducal. We were exhausted by the beauty.

An interesting thing, Venice exhibits modern art within these museums as special exhibitions. We saw a mountain of coal, large canvases with one color of paint, etc. the juxtaposition does make you wonder about modern art.

Each medallion on the ceiling was done by a different artist, and each represents a different form of thought. Now look at the solid color art on the left wall from the new exhibition. Very different.

We walked through the throngs of humanity, over the Rialto bridge into San Polo. We saw the local people and artisans on small little alleys that you would never find. Leather crafters, glass blowers, paper makers, and fabric designers. Rubelli fabrics was my favorite. No pictures, sorry.

The Scuola Grande di San Rocco, was the reason I wanted to come to San Polo, but we were just spent. Here’s the building and the sign for the exhibit – we never ventured inside.

It was 2:00 and time for lunch and a seat!

We found a quiet restaurant and sat and talked and laughed and had a macchiato. Antonella left us and we headed to the Guggenheim. By the time we got there, we decided we just needed to go home, so we turned around and headed for our luxurious bed. I know, I can’t waste time in stores shopping, but I can take a bath mid day.

By the way, I wanted you to see the size of the doors. Leather on one side, wood on the other.

We ordered ice, made Negroni’s and ate our little bread snacks in bed.

At 7:00 PM we decided a dip in the rooftop pool might revive us.

Part hydro massage, part pool, it was lovely and refreshing, and off we go on our last night.

One more mission – I doused myself in the last of Chazy’s parfum and decided to leave the bottle in Venice. Where else but Harry’s bar on the grand canal. I found a little place in a window well by the front door that looked like it might not be noticed for years.

We sat at the minuscule bar, feeling very sophisticated and in walks this very drunk, elegantly attired young, handsome American. He started a scene and the manager gallantly tried to subdue him and finally, uno, due tre, three bartenders and the manager opened the front door and hauled him out! In seconds. Quite a scene, and a lovely story, worthy of the $22 glass of Punt e Mes and soda.

I love these tiled advertisements in the sidewalks. A newer part of Venice’s history. No one will know what these businesses were 50 years from now.

We’re ready to go home. I ordered a salad and Brad order lasagne for dinner at a little joint. We are sated and overwhelmed. You could spend two weeks here to just see the art. It’s a place we should come back to. Thank God Delta has non stop flights.

Arrivederci.