The Best of Sicily (according to us)

(Guest Blogger Tom starts the review)

Climbing Mt Kilimanjaro, swimming the English Channel and folding a fitted sheet; all daunting challenges, I’m sure. But none as difficult as selecting a single highlight from our recent Sicilian get-together with the Brookses and Pavliks.

Nevertheless, Bob has requested we do just that, so here goes…

First, Karen and I should acknowledge all of the preparations and plotting done by our gracious hosts, Chris and Wendy. They gauged our interest in seeing little, some, or most of Sicily. We settled on “whatever,” and were rewarded with a comprehensive sampling of highlights which have already been well-chronicled here by two superb writers. I will happily echo their appreciation of Palermo, Chefalù, Siracusa, Agrigento and Catania. Each of these places offers something for everyone, from lively music to phenomenal food and abundant history. Frankly, it was exhausting in the best way possible. Every turned corner resulted in proclamations like “Wow!”, “Amazing!” and “Watch out for that Fiat!”

But atop this list of highlights sits our preference: Joining the Pavliks in hanging out with Brookses in their adopted city of Mussomeli. “Way to kiss up to the Pavliks and Brookses”, you say? That’s fair, but I’ll explain. There’s just something about seeing familiar faces in foreign lands. Seeing Chris and Wendy at the airport in Catania, after a red-eye flight, put us immediately at ease. And it only got better from there.

Here’s the thing – Rick Steves will tell you a lot about “must-see” landmarks in any given tourist destination and that’s great. But will he introduce you to Enzo the baker in Mussomeli? I doubt it. How about Mario the coffee roaster or Fabio the pet groomer? Nope. Can Fodor’s acquaint you with Gianni, a personable artist with a garden to die for? Fat chance. Can Lonely Planet get you a seat at the community potluck, rich with diverse food and personalities? I don’t think so.

The Brookses can and did! Even going to the local grocer or filling water bottles in town were mini adventures. I’ll tell you this; there is nothing mundane about walking two lovable and huge Newfies through the narrow cobblestoned corridors of Mussomeli at night. Even the feral cat population, which is considerable, took intense interest.

While Karen and I enjoyed touring through Palermo on an unofficial and delicious food tour (our shared runner-up highlight), seeing a remote Sicilian city through the eyes of new locals was just great. Even better was sharing that privilege with Bob and Jen. The six of us sitting on the piazza, fresh-baked bread and hot espresso in hand, sharing both a good laugh and a million-dollar view was as good as it got. Everything else was delicious gravy.

Tough to argue with that, Tom.

We were extremely fortunate to have such high-caliber hosts and accommodations for our week in Sicily. Most tourists do not get even a smidge of the concierge-level treatment that we received from Chris and Wendy — the advanced scouting and reservations, the flexibility, the Italian language skills, the kittens. Just the transportation services alone were beyond a point where we could attach a value. It surely is possible for visitors to navigate their own way through Sicily, but none would be able to do it as efficiently (and bravely) as Chris.

Chris regularly used the Force to get us back to our parking spot without hitting any of his neighbors’ houses.

As a result, we got to see pretty much the width and bredth of the island with minimal stress to us. That might be the best part of the trip (aside from the cameraderie and sharing it with friends, of course). We got to see the mountains, and we got to see the sea, and we got to see a nice, liveable home environment as well.

Maybe you could say it was a Mediterrenian version of the New Hampshire home we are all so fond of.

Except with better nightlife….

and breakfast traditions

and sunsets

and photo ops

and castles

and means to settle disputes, however few there truned out to be.

Saving the best for last?

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Today was sadly the last day of our Sicily trip. We’ve been driving all over the island seeing the top sites, but today Wendy planned for us to stick closer to home. You might think this would mean that our itinerary would be less exciting, but in fact the things we saw today were some of our very favorite on the trip.

Right down the street from Chris and Wendy’s place is the main landmark of Mussomeli — Castello Manfredonico o di Mussomeli. We’ve been seeing this castle all week — it is impossible to miss as it juts high above the surrounding landscape, built on top of a huge outcropping of rock. (It’s kind of hard to see exactly where the rock ends and the castle begins.) But once we were able to go inside, it far exceeded our expectations.

The path wound up the rock, producing views that grew more breathtaking with each step. And substantial sections of the castle were still intact and available for exploration. We climbed spiral staircases to view the upper rooms, and descended into subterranean passages. Between the castle itself and the views stretching across the dramatic hills of Sicily in all directions, we all agreed this was one of the best places we’d visited.

Next up we drove a bit further away to visit Valley of the Temples, site of some of the most impressive ruins in Italy. One thing I’d never realized is that much of Sicily was controlled by ancient Greece. Archimedes was even born here! So what we saw both here and in Siracusa was layers of history building on top of each other. The ancient Greeks would build a temple, which would later be repurposed by the Romans, and then later by early Christians. So when viewing these sites, you’re seeing an amalgamation of different cultures. (One of the most interesting examples was in Siracusa, where there was a cathedral that was built onto a Greek temple to Athena and still contained very obvious Greek pillars running along both sides.)

This was no exception. The temples are situated along a long promenade with an ancient city wall running along one side and olive tree orchards growing along the other, and beautiful views of the surrounding landscape and the sea beyond. The temples are Greek, but Romans and early Christians left their mark here as well. The city walls were repurposed as a necropolis, and you could clearly see the resting places carved out of the rock and old staircases leading down into catacombs.

This was where we encountered the worst weather we had on the entire trip, by which I mean we felt about five raindrops fall on us when heading back to the car. We have been incredibly lucky here with abundant sunshine and 70-ish temperatures every day.

We thought we were done, but the Brookses pulled one last destination out of their sleeves — the nearby Scala dei Turchi (Turkish steps). These are not actual steps, as it turns out, but limestone cliffs at the edge of the sea. We skipped the long walk down to the beach at the bottom, but the view of the bright white layers of cliff descending into the blue-green Mediterranean was a sight not to be missed.

All that remained of the day was a celebratory dinner. We made the most of it like true Italians, with antipasti, main courses, desserts, and plenty of wine. By the time we got back, it was pretty late (largely because it’s just not done to have dinner before 8pm or so here). Tomorrow we’ll be rising at 5am for a trip to the airport, but we wouldn’t have missed a minute.

Mini vacation, part due

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Part two of our mini-vacation-within-a-vacation started slightly earlier than we expected. Although Jen and I got the prime bedroom — its windows opened onto a courtyard rather than the street, so it was presumed to be quieter. The courtyard, however, seems to be home to a rooster, who crowed at about 5 am. We managed to get back to sleep a bit, but there was some pressure this morning to get up and out early. Our checkout time was 10 am, and there were still things in Palermo that we wanted to see.

Palermo does not seem to be a place that would feature livestock in its courtyards. It very metropolitan, with many wide streets and sidewalks, and lots of traffic and bustle. Our accommodations were a block from the central train station, and there is an electric trolley that zips past our door. (Unexpectedly, there are small trains of the type that might chug around amusement parks — we have seen several of these here, only these wind right down the traffic lanes, presumably giving tourists a close up view of local commuters.)

Of course, Palermo has its share of narrow, cobblestone streets. Some are officially dedicated to pedestrian traffic, which appreciably cuts down on the number of cars trying to navigate among the walkers. Others are traditional Italian “yield to whomever blinks last” byways.

And then there are the streets that we looked for this morning — those lined with all kinds of fruits and vegetables, all manner of sea creatures, lots of spices and kitchen accessories. The Palermo food markets foiled us yesterday by closing down at 3 pm. We had planned to visit these markets for our street food dinner crawl last night, but everyone had already packed up shop. We ended up doing alright, of course, but we did want to walk through to get their flavor.

Then it was time to pack up the dogs and head out of town and up the coast. Cefalu is a beach community that shares a lot in appearance and atmosphere with the Cinque Terre villages we visisted last April. It is a little bigger, and less picturesqe than any of those towns, but it is much more accessible.

We had a fine afternoon exploring with the dogs in tow. We ate lunch in an alleyway just off the main square, then worked our way down to the shore where a stretch of sandy beach started where the city blocks ended. It was protected by a sturdy rock jetty that we could walk out on. From its furthest point, Jen took a 360-degree panoramic video of the town, beach, distant hill, and blue-green sea.

It seemed too difficult of a prospect to not stop for gelato on our way back up, though a different set of cobblestone walkways than the ones that had brought us down to the water.

We motored back to Mussomeli and got ourselves psyched for this evening’s challenge: navigating a Sicilian restaurant without Chris and Wendy.(Our Sicilian super-hosts were double booked for tonight and obliged to attend a friend’s going away party.) Our adventure veered toward disaster when the wait staff had trouble comprenending our request for a small aperitivo plate to open our meal. They solved the problem by bringing us two large aperitivo plates. The crisis was averted when I ate just about every small sandwich and french fry within reach. We all then were able to bring the primi pasta plates that we had planned to eat after just a sampling of aperitivo. It ended on a high note when the restaurant’s owner — like most people here, a friend of Chris and Wendy — saluted us with a round of a limoncello-like liquor called Aqua de Cedri.

Adventures on the road

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Last year when we were in Florence visiting Nadia, Bob talked at some length about the crazy traffic patterns. Well, Sicily takes that same attitude and turns it up to eleven.

To start with, Sicily is an extremely hilly place. Looking out across portions of the landscape, you find it hard to imagine that roads can get through it at all. Those that manage it are steep, curvy, and narrow (though, to give Sicicly their due, in remarkably good condition). Then you get into a city, and realize that you didn’t understand the true meaning of the word “narrow”. If a street seems reasonably wide when empty, there will be cars parked on both sides. If you think a street is surely one-way due to its narrowness, you are likely wrong. If you think you are surely on a footpath, where you can stretch out your arms and practically touch the buildings on either side, it won’t be long before a car zooms around the corner. And if you are on a pedestrian alley with crowds of people, vendor stalls, and restaurants lining either side, then you will soon encounter a motorcycle.

Chris is the real hero here, as our chauffeur throughout this trip. He and Wendy usually drive a little Mini Cooper, but for our visit they rented a six-person minivan so we could all travel together. (This is a good thing — if one of the four of us had to drive, we’d likely still be stuck at the airport, unable to merge.) Just driving to their parking area in this larger car had us all holding our breath as we passed though alleys and around blind turns with approximately an inch to spare on either side.

All six of us in the car is a little tight, but workable. (Wendy, fortunately not prone to car sickness, has nobly been taking the back seat.) So today we decided to really amp up the difficulty level and add Pippa and Arlo, their two Newfoundlands. (For those who have not met Pippa and Arlo, that is about 270 combined pounds of dog.) We were headed for an overnight trip-within-a-trip to Palermo and the coastal city of Cefalu. Luckily the dogs are very patient and calm, but Wendy’s seat in the back became considerably more challenging. In the end we managed to fit ourselves, the dogs, and all our overnight supplies into the car.

Against all odds, the car also made it up the steep incline out of town, and over the mountain ridges on the way to the coast. Palermo represented its own driving challenges. One of the main roads into town didn’t have lanes, and it was hard to predict at any given time how many cars would attempt to get abreast of each other. I think we counted five at one point. But in the end we made it into the town center, which featured a lovely series of pedestrian-ish streets (featuring the occasional car, van, or motorcycle). We strolled around and took endless photos of picturesque alleyways, cobblestones underfoot and laundry hanging above. We caught some glimpses of the blue-green sea. We met lots of locals, given that Pippa and Arlo attract a lot of attention.

Eventually we were able to check in to our airbnb, a lovely spacious apartment in a cool walkable neighborhood. Then, minus the dogs, we headed out again to sample some of the culinary delights of the city. We were seeking out a few things that this area is particularly known for –firstly, drinks and apertivo at a lovely cocktail bar. We then sought out something called “mangia e beve” (oddly, “food and drink”) that consists of green onions wrapped in bacon. We didn’t quite have room left for arancini, but made sure to have some of the famous cannoli, which come in many varieties of shells and fillings. (Sicily claims to have invented the cannoli. The place we bought them from had “since 1024” on their business sign, which seems to be a bit of a stretch.)

The streets were lined with tables set out by the local restaurants, and packed with festive crowds enjoying food and drink. On our way back home on one of these streets, despite having already had our dessert, Chris was reeled in by a delicious burger smell so we all ended up having a late-night snack. It’s going to be hard for us to adjust to eating like normal people again once we return from this trip.

*Look out, there’s probably a motorcycle coming.*

Traveling through time

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Never underestimate the power of six people who are able to motivate and coordinate each other in such a way that all of them are ready to hit the road at 7:30. Just this feat suggests extraordinary accomplishments are possible.

Thus, we were feeling full of potenial as we headed out this morning for the city of Siracusa, about three hours away. Along with the pleasant sunshine and windshield-filling views of Mount Etna, one other thing buoyed our spirits. It was a tiny cup of goodness called Crema Freda — so good it could only be served in thimble-sized contaners at the highway rest area close to Catania. Ours got passeed around, and even people who only got a few sips were smiling for hours afterwards.

We got to Siracusa and parked our car well before the pleasant feelings wore off. Our mood was barely scratched by the ranks of school groups at our first tour stop of the day, the Necropolis Archeological Park. If getting up and out by 7:30 were not enough, now we would hop a few millennia back in time to when the Ancient Greeks had a colony in this area of Sicily. They built a grand amphitheater on a hillside, using stone quarried from higher up the hill. The resulting structure still stands largely intact, and the holes made by the quarrying are visible and explorable after serving a variety of functions, including as tombs, over the past 2,000 or so years. Much of the original rock of the amphitheater is currently covered by wooden planks because the place now serves as a venue for a summer concert series. This dampened the effect a little, but the location is still stunning — from the top you can look out over trees and city streets to the sea.

Also, we weren’t done time traveling yet. After a stroll through another quarry that left sizeable grottos that we could walk through (and whose accoustics the school groups could test out by screaming and whistling persistently) we found another amphitheater built by the Romans slightly fewer millenia ago than the first ruins we saw. This one seems to have less concert venue potential these days, but it did serve nicely as a wildflower breeding ground. The school groups were unimpressed and didn’t make it past the first viewing point.

Of course, by this time it was pretty much lunch time, and we had a general destination in mind: the island of Origia which is connected to the city by two short bridges and which shares the brunt of Siracusa’s tourist traffic with the Archeological park. People who like narrow cobblestone foot-traffic passages though sun showered two-story residential canyons would be very happy to get lost wandering around here. We were those people, even a little bit past the pont where were started to hope that the passage we were on would lead us to lunch, which one of them eventually did.

This was our first real pasta meal of the whole trip, and it did not disappoint, though only one of us decided to pursue Ortigia’s reputation for seafood. The penne with swordfish and eggplant was quite good, as were, reportedly, the carbonara, lasagna, pasta norma, and ragu.

From lunch we followed a general touring plan that was designed to hit major points in Otigia, which featrured multiple views of the Mediterranian. Perhaps the best view was back toward the city of Siracusa on the mainland with the white top of Mount Etna loomng above.
We also saw the island’s Duomo, which was built in the fifteenth century AD, incorporating pillars and other elements from a temple to Athena dating to the fifth century BC. This was not our first Duomo, but was quite memorable.
From here, we continued wandering until we reached the very tip of Ortigia, where the Maniace Castle projects a rather fort-like military presence with stark, thick walls all around and stairways leading off in improbable directons.

We didn’t actually go inside because our parking was about to run out.
Still, the walk back to the parking lot was as scenic a jorney as anyone in our mild state of hurry could hope for. We followed the shoreline on the opposide side of the island, which included some beaches where several people seemed to be considering the idea of wading into the still-chilly Mediterranean.

Food, wine, and new friends

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We had a relaxed start to our day today, enjoying the amazing views from the Brookses terrace and playing with the kittens. Eventually we meandered down to Chris and Wendy’s favorite cafe for breakfast pastries. I had some kind of amazing pistachio creation — apparently they are famous for pistachios here — and we enjoyed the fresh-squeezed orange juice. (Since we frequently see oranges hanging from the trees here, my guess is that it’s VERY fresh.)

After breakfast we took a short drive over the hills to take in some more amazing views. This region is extremely mountainous, with artistic pillars of rock jutting out dramatically. Sometimes buildings are constructed right into the rock, with it not being clear exactly where the rock ends and the building begins. In between are fields of crops and flowers covering the steep hillsides. We stopped to take some pictures of a large flock of sheep and enjoy the chiming of the hundreds of little bells that they wear around their necks.

Our main event of the day was a tour and tasting Wendy had arranged for us at a nearby winery. Our guide, Aldo, was friendly and knowledgeable, and the setting was amazing. The family that owns the winery bought and restored a hilltop villa — on the highest point for miles around — to use as a tasting room. There were breathtaking vistas in every direction. We tasted five of the wines, all made from grapes exclusive to this region of Sicily. Aldo also had a feast of local delicacies for us, with the winery’s own olive oil and locally made breads, meats, and cheeses.

On our way back, Chris and Wendy wanted to make a stop to introduce us to their friend Gianni. He is an artist with a country house near the winery. It’s the perfect setting for an artist, with lovely views and an amazing garden that we wandered around in. Gianni showed us many of his paintings — he’s working on a series of noteworthy women from around the world — and bonded with Tom over art. He even gave Karen and I each a painting to bring home.

We were all a little too tired to venture out for dinner, so we ended the day with delicious pizza from a nearby pizzaria. We’re preparing for an early start and a full day tomorrow.

Potluck in Sicily

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One of the main things in our lives that we do not write about in this blog is Potluck, which tends to happen once a week. It happens at home, or at least close to home, which is why you never find it in our travel blog.

Except now we are combing our home life with our travel life in rural Sicily. We have packed up Potluck staples Karen and Tom Palmer and traveled here to visit original Potluck co-founding family Chris and Wendy Brooks in their lovely European headquarters.

In fact, we haven’t seen Chris and Wendy for quite some time because they have been preparing this place for us. It should also be noted that if not for schduling conflicts we may well have the remaining club members, Michael and Carla, along with us.

But they went to London last week instead, and now they are missing out.

What are they missing out on? Well…

We had a totally comfortable and not-at-all stressful succession of flights from Boston to Munich to Catania, one of the larger cities on Sicily. It was marred only when Karen’s suitcase failed to come out onto the baggage carousel. Lufthansa’s miscue ate up a little of our first day, and caused Karen a wee bit of stress, but managed to pick it up later in the day because…

We took a few hours to hike around on Mount Etna, which towers over Catania, is still topped with a frosting of snow, and is an active volcano! We drove up to where the snow starts and where a ski resort operates for at least part of the year. While there are slaloming trails visible in the remaining snow, it looks like the ski resort has shut down for the spring. Some people were sledding on the lower patches, but most people were hiking around the non-snowy parts or even taking atv tours. We chose a short walk around a crater that was created by eruptions 1892 and looked over a lava fields from various eruptions, some starting to show vegetation growing on them, and some still new enough to be completely black. We also had a sweeping view of the city of Catania and the ocean beyond it.

It was chilly up on the mountainside — we were at about 6,200 feet in altitude — and we retreated into a cafe near the parking lot to warm up. Here, we got to try this trip’s first Italian delicacy (the first of many, we expect) — arancini. These are fried rice balls with meat and cheese in the middle. The Sicilian version (we are learning there is a Sicilian version of a lot of things), is not round, but pointed at the top in homage to pointy-topped Mount Etna.

As we were riding back down the mountain back into Catania, we decided to check in at the airport to relay a suitable address for the airline to deliver Karen’s suitcase, should it ever be located. Chris and Wendy’s address was deemed not suitable for reasons we’ll see a little later. It turns out that they had managed to locate Karen’s suitcase and it was waiting for her at the airport when she checked in. What good news!

The only bad news was that all this driving up and down hills was making me carsick. This did not improve as we neared the Brooks’ home in a lovely city called Mussomeli in the Sicilian hill country. There was really nothing to be done. In order for us to get to our destination, we had to get through a tapestry of curves and switchbacks. Mussomeli was visible on its hillside for quite a while, but for much of the drive it did not seem to be getting any closer.

We did finally make it into town and got into our new accommodations. I recovered significanly once I got out of the car and saw the place. I even helped Chris walk the two local celebrities, the Brooks’ Newfoundlands Pippa and Arlo, though the narrow, winding cobblestone alleys of their neighborhood in the heart of Mussomeli’s historic s old district. Then I fell asleep pretty much as soon as I lay down in bed because it had been such a long day. Any lingering feeling of carsickness melted away overnight and was completel obliterated when I got up the next morning to see…

The lovely expanse of Sicilian countryside visible from Chris and Wendy’s sunroom. It beckoned us to explore, which we did for most of our first full day in town. Everywhere we walked in Mussomeli, people would call out to Wendy and ask where the dogs were. We got to meet many of Brooks’ new friends and neighbors and wander even more of the cobblestone streets.

We even got to take in the city’s the first ever auto race! The race cars had been parked along the main road the day before so Chris and Wendy looked into it and found some times when the cars would likely be zooming by. We were among a small crowd at the finish line and got to see several of the cars — all hatchbacks — navigate a traffic cone s-curve and then sprint up the hill to the end of the race. It was not something we had imagined we would get to see.

After seeing seven or eight cars finish the race, we contined our wanderings through town, taking in urban wildflowers and periodic vews of the farmland on the facing hillside. We made it to the dramatic Castle Manfredonico, which wraps itself around a giant pillar of craggy rock just outside of town. It was closed today, but we took the initiative to try to hike around the base of the stony island it sits on. At this point, it is not actually clear to us if there is a trail that goes all the way around it. We found a trail, but among the few thing we became certain about were that it puts you in close proximity to a lot of thorny thistle, and there is a random mud patch that took us all by surprise and muddied us up considerably. We abandoned our circumnavigation not long after the mud.

Still, there was more excitement to come. We saw two motorcyclists escape hot pursuit by the Carabinieri. We had a nice aperitivo on the sun porch. We played extensively with the two tiny kittens Chris and Wendy adopted just in time for our visit.

And we finished the evening in the most appropriate way possible: a potluck dinner thrown by some of Wendy’s friends in the old town’s main square.

Down and up

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Zoe trying to fit all our food onto her shelf

Our flight out of Sacramento was not until 9:30pm, so we still had most of a day left for vacationing. We started by cleaning out our refrigerator and cabinets — it was nice that we could foist our leftovers on Zoe rather than throwing things away. We remembered to return our parking passes, which all of us had been paranoid about all week since they charge you $250 each if you accidentally take them away with you. Then we said goodbye to Lakeland Village #514 and headed to Zoe’s house for the foisting.

We’d decided to go visit Truckee, CA on our final day, about an hour and a quarter away. It’s not really on the way to Sacramento, but the Truckee to Sacramento route is all on a highway — good news since we were not looking forward to traveling back the way we’d come, especially in daylight. (When we’d driven along the steep, winding mountain roads in the middle of night on our way to Lake Tahoe, we couldn’t see much. But sometimes we’d see a great darkness next to us, with a lot of twinkling lights far, far below. Later, Zoe pointed out to us the road we’d come in on — high up along a seemingly vertical mountain face, with a sheer drop and — of course — no guardrails.) The bad news was that we had to drive up the west side of the lake, past Emerald Bay again. This was the third time we had to do that white-knuckle drive, but fortunately once we passed the bay the drive was pleasant. (Zoe drove separately since she would be returning to Lake Tahoe, and she didn’t mind the drive at all.)

Truckee is a pretty cool little town, up in the mountains with a very Wild West vibe. It’s the site of the Donner Pass, and (a bit surprisingly) they really lean into this association. The main road is “Donner Pass Way” and there’s lots of Donner Pass-themed locations in town. A railroad runs right through the center of the main street in the historic downtown, and has frequent trains — we saw three in the time we were there — which adds to the Western feel. There are lots of cute shops and restaurants, and a nearby river where people were floating and swimming.

Unfortunately, Truckee had something else we’ve become unaccustomed to — heat. Lake Tahoe has had highs in the seventies every day, and Truckee was reading 88 degrees when we arrived, despite being at a similar elevation (a little over 6000 feet). I went into the visitor center to ask about a short walk or hike that they’d recommend, and the woman there suggested the Truckee River Legacy trail and gave me a map that implied it was pretty close by. It turned out that this was rather misleading, and we had a long, hot, and not particularly scenic walk to get there. By the time we reached the river, half the group was already ready to turn back. But we persevered for a bit and did have a mildly pleasant stroll along a riverside bike path, but the heat sapped much of our energy and enjoyment.

We headed back into town for lunch and were stymied at trying to find a place with air conditioning. I don’t think it’s usually all that hot in Truckee, so most places had outdoor seating and open windows. We eventually settled for an outdoor table under an umbrella, and it was really pretty comfortable once we’d recovered from the sunny walk. We had some free time to explore the nearby shops, and spent most of it in a really cool bookstore where the girls all made purchases for the trip.

Our last activity in Truckee was yet another escape room, at Elevation Escape on the outskirts of town. It was a very cool room, themed as a haunted motel, with a very talented gamemaster. We did end up getting a few clues this time, but mostly when things in the room weren’t functioning quite right. We managed to escape in about 45 minutes again. With a bit more time to kill, we did some shopping at the next-door thrift store, a sort of Goodwill but where all proceeds benefitted the Humane Society and there were little pictures everywhere of adorable dogs admonishing you not to shoplift.

Then it was time to say goodbye to Zoe and head west to Sacramento. We drove over the Donner Pass (elevation 7200 feet) and then began to drop. As the altitude diminished, the temperature rose. By the time we neared Sacramento, about an hour and a half later, the temperature was 108 (at 6 pm!) Unfortunately we had received a notification that our flight was delayed, so we were reluctant to head to the airport several hours early. We decided to check out the Historic Waterfront neighborhood and go in search of ice cream.

Historic Sacramento was a charming Wild West themed neighborhood with cobblestone streets, shops, bars, and restaurants. What it didn’t have a lot of was parking. Having passed up the $20 parking garage, we did a few loops through the streets before getting lucky and swooping in to a newly-vacated spot. Fortunately Sacramento had far more numerous ice cream options than South Lake Tahoe (perhaps having something to do with temperatures of 108), so that cut down on whatever complaints we might have gotten of walking around in the heat. We found some delicious ice cream and carried it to the riverfront, across another set of historic-looking train tracks. (The Colorado Railroad Museum is nearby.) Unable to figure out anything else that we wanted to do in the heat, we then headed to the airport.

The Sacramento airport is small and easy to navigate, with almost no security line — and our flight time kept getting pushed later and later — so we were in no rush when we arrived. It was lucky we came when we did, though, because we got through security at 7:30 and discovered the airport lounge closed at 8. Fortunately this gave us time for dinner and a drink before going out to sit at the gate for approximately four hours. By the time our flight left after midnight, we were pretty tired, but luckily we somehow got upgraded to fourth row more-legroom seats despite refusing to pay for seat reservation in advance (in contrast to the flight out, when we were in the very back row). We got cookies that Nadia told us the rest of the plane didn’t get, and it was a smooth and easy flight that we actually managed to get a little sleep on, though we were still pretty tired when we arrived in Boston 5 1/2 hours later. All in all, not a bad travel day.

On foot and on the water

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On our last full day here, Bob and I decided to go for another run. Our plan is that we’ll get adjusted to running at this altitude, and then when we get back to sea level and full oxygen we’ll be super-athletes. I’m not sure if the less than two miles we managed today will do the trick, but time will tell.

To be fair, we did some hiking as well. Some very STEEP hiking as a matter of fact. We ran the 1.4 miles down to the Stateline district to check out Van Sickle Bi-State Park. (Bi-state! Get it?) As you may recall, Stateline is a very bustling district full of shopping centers and bars and casinos — not a place you’d expect to find a park. But right there behind the Target parking lot, the development abruptly stops and ahead of you is just steeply sloping ground covered with pines and rocks. (On the main trail in, the Heavenly gondola travels above you, heading for the top of the mountain. You can ride the gondola up in the summer for fantastic views, but it costs $80!)

We walked a couple mile loop trail, which took us quite a bit up the hill to a panoramic view of the lake (with the casinos rising in front in one section, in sharp contrast to the untouched shoreline on most of the rest). Even the portions of the trail with no view were very pleasant, with tall pines, wildflowers, and the crisp mountain air that we appreciate so much. (We didn’t come anywhere close to the top. Shortly after the turnoff for our loop trail, the mountainside seemed to become essentially vertical. If you continue in that direction, you can get to the Tahoe Rim Trail, a 165-mile trail that circumnavigates the lake, from up in the mountains that surround it. We did not go that way.)

On the way back we managed to run for part of the way, but eventually accepted defeat and slowed to a stroll. We were able to walk the last section back along the water, through the beach of the next-door marina and onto our own resort. Nadia and Lanie were still in their pajamas, watching Harry Potter. (All eight movies are available on the TV here, and they have made it their goal to get through them all. Last night, they had gotten up through the seventh one. Bob and I had gotten a little hooked and ended up watching the last one while they were at the Hozier concert.)

By the time we’d showered and eaten, it was almost time for Zoe to get off work. We decided to have a relaxing day today, meaning we didn’t want to get in the car. The only wish list item that we hadn’t done yet was paddle-boarding, and we conveniently found that we could rent the boards at the next-door marina. Zoe, Lanie, and I took them out for an hour from the beach next door. The lake here is pretty choppy, so it was a bit of a challenge, but we were proud that all of us managed to avoid falling off. (This was more than could be said for many of the other tourists renting paddle boards.) The water is so clear here that it’s hard to estimate depth — even a long way out, the sandy bottom looked close enough to touch.

After our paddle we went back to our own beach for a swim — we’ve found that counterintuitively, the water here, on the open lake, is considerably warmer than the water at Sand Harbor or Emerald Bay. We figure it must be because the lake is shallow for a long way out here, and maybe the snowmelt streams coming down from the mountains empty into those other areas. But it’s still a bit chilly, so afterwards we spent a little time in the lakeside hot tub. We haven’t taken too much advantage of our resort amentities so far this week, so we’re trying to cram a bit of that in. Bob meanwhile walked down to the used bookstore we’d seen the other day, to stock up on reading material for our flight home.

By the time we got back to the condo, it was time for apertivos — we still had a bottle of wine and a fair amount of snacks from Grocery Outlet Bargain Market. In an effort to use up some of the groceries we’d bought, we decided to make nachos for dinner — and in compensation for not spending any money at restaurants all day, we acceded to Nadia’s ongoing campaign to return to the Trapped in Tahoe escape room (which is also conveniently in walking distance). We found The Estate to be slightly more challenging than Sector 9, but we still managed to emerge victorious without using any hints.

On our walk back home, we began to hear distant rumblings of bass. As we got closer to our condo, we realized we could hear the second night of the Hozier concert. We walked out on the pier at our resort and could pretty clearly hear the music playing and the roar of the crowd, as the sound traveled across the lake from Stateline. Listening to a few songs while watching the stars was the perfect way to end the day.

An emerald gem

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We have focused a lot on the natural beauty of this region, and we’ll talk about it more today, but there really is a seemingly endless array of things to do around here, and they aren’t even all nature based. For instance, we haven’t talked a lot about the casino scene just across the border in Nevada because that really wasn’t our scene — until we were driving home from Sand Harbor yesterday, and at the place where we go between all the high-rise buildings, the girls saw a sign for a visiting musical act — Hosier. And the concerts were this week at an outdoor venue associated with one of the casinos right up the road from our condo!

Well, it didn’t take long to ascertain that affordable tickets were available. Zoe’s housemates were brought on board, and, poof, pretty high-profile plans are in place for this evening. No matter how nice things were in nature today, we had to get back in time to see Hosier. (Jen and I are moderate Hosier fans, ourselves, but we decided to let the kids have their fun, and we planned to hang around our resort this evening.)

As for the first part of the day, we headed out early (no bagels this morning) to Emerald Bay, and this time we got there early enough to find a suitable parking space in one of the small lots that were jam-packed a few days ago. This was a major accomplishment, and we rejoiced. Our feelings got boosted even more on the one-mile walk from the lot to the beach along the bay. Very enticing views of the harbor — again, this is the place with the island in the middle, a picture of which is hanging in our condo’s great room. Now we’re seeing it even closer.

We arrived at the beach so early that the kayak rental place wasn’t even open yet. It was a bit of a disappoinment because we were hoping it would be a kayak and paddleboard rental place, but they seem to have axed their paddleboard offering. Today would not be the day we try paddleboarding.

Instead we hiked for a bit along the Rubicon Trail, which goes about five miles to a point on the main lake. We just made it past the entrance of the bay, about three miles, and then headed back.

By then, the rental place was open and we decided on two tandem kayaks to carry us out to the island. Really, only four of us kayaked out (I stayed in the shade and watched). The kayak tour produced a full hour of exploring, though. It started in the wake of a large paddleboat, the Tahoe Queen, whose lap through Emerald Bay coincided with our kayak departures. This was one of many large water craft, large and small, looping through the bay.

On the island, Jen and the girls scrambled up to an abandoned tea house, the only structure on the island. It dates back to the early 1900s when a rich lady bought land on the bay, including the island, and built a Nordic castle to go along with her tea house. She must have been an awfully rich lady. The castle still stands just off the beach, but it is undergoing some renovations, and it was not clear if tours were actually being given.

After the island, they paddled over to the far side of the bay to scope out a bald eagle’s nest, an osprey’s nest, and a sunken forest created by a landslide. The woman who outfitted our group with the kayaks recommended these side trips, but neglected to mention what year the landslide was.

After kayaking, we had our pre-packed lunch and took a short hike to a nearby waterfall, but, really, our outdoor energies were starting to wane. We drove home (remember this is the drive that forced us to crawl along the ridge of a hill and execute mutliple switchbacks with minimal guardrails) successfully and dedicated the late afternoon to cooking an in-house Mexican feast and picking out which clothes to wear to the concert.