British Isles: Lerwick, Shetland and Jarlshof
We are finally here! Were were excited about visiting the Shetland Islands back when we did The Wake of the Vikings, but the weather made the water too tough to dock or tender in, and we had to skip the Shetland Islands. It was particularly disappointing to AdventureMan, as he had watched every episode of Shetland, a mystery series on Netflix.
As it turns out, he wasn’t alone – one of the first things the guide mentions is that everyone wants to see where the murders were committed (and through the trip, she showed us!) but that the show made The Shetlands look like the murder capitol of the world, when in truth, daily life tends to be very routine, and crime of any kind is limited. And everybody knows everybody.
Probably half of our bus had watched the show, or read Ann Cleeves addictive books about Shetland, and there was a lot of enthusiasm and appreciation from the people on the bus when the guide pointed out the places where the crimes really did not take place.
On our way this morning, this cracked me up. The local ferry, the North Link, with a big Viking on it passes the huge Viking ship as if we were barely moving, LOL. I guess it just struck me as funny. Maybe he’s pointing the way, thinking we are lost.
Today, it is cloudy, but they are high clouds, and foggy, the kind that burns off by late morning, and AdventureMan spots a seal sporting in the Viking Jupiter wake as we are docking.
I was wearing a skirt, but I change into Levi’s because it is chill, this is Juneau, Alaska, where I grew up kind of August. I wear a shirt under a sweater, and carry a windbreaker, which I later don when we hit Jarlshof, our destination today.
En route, we pass gorgeous bays, fields full of fat, happy sheep, contented cows and frisky Shetland ponies. We stop for a break in Hoswick where I find a gorgeous handmade coffee cup, and love the old crafts demonstrations set up there. It was still very early – barely 8:30, so they had gone to some trouble to be open when we passed through.
In this village I see something that blows my mind, an entire hedge which is a fuchsia shrub. Fuchsias are special to me; I used to buy one for my Mother for Mother’s Day. I have tried to keep hanging fuchsia’s almost everywhere we have lived, but they are very particular – don’t like heat at all, and need just the right amount of water. The guide tells me this is a hardy fuchsia, and they are grown all over the Shetlands because they love it there. What luxury!
We see a tall ship out in the adjoining bay. Our guide is smart, and a good story-teller. She tells us not much really grown in the Shetlands to support life; the trees are mostly gone, some grow potatoes and vegetables in family plots, but the main industry, until the oil fields came, has been fishing, particularly herring. There are herring stations near where our boat is docked, and she tells us there were women called the “gutting girls” who would flay and salt the herring and put them in barrels to ship around the world.
We learned the Shetlands have only been a part of Scotland for the last 500 years; before that they were largely settled by Danes and Norwegians. The streets are named after Norwegian kings, and their language is a marvelous combination of Norwegian language patterns coupled with Scottish vocabulary.
We reach Jarlshof, literally the house of the Earl, and there is a ruin of a medium sized stone house with more-or-less modern dimensions. The treat, though, is that (like Scara Brae in the Orkneys) a large storm uncovered ruins of dwellings dating back more than 4,000 years, built partly underground but covered by sand over the years.
The people who lived here were smart, and inventive. They created archways and strong tunneled wheel-houses, for living, for storage, or so the anthropologists and archaeologists surmise. The truth is, no one knows how or why, or even who made these dwellings. No one really knows whether they died out, or were driven away when the Northmen invaded, or if they assimilated – most of the Orkneys and Shetland Islands have a large portion of Nordic blood running in their veins.
Seeing these early dwellings is a thrill, and it is further thrilling knowing that there may be even earlier dwellings underneath these ones. No one wants to destroy what they have found so far to search for earlier peoples.
Equally thrilling is that while we are touring Jarlshof, the sun breaks through and the landscape looks different, no longer shades of grey and diffuse with fog, now it is bright and shines with energetic colors.
You never know when suddenly you will find a treasure, and today, as I was exiting through the Visitor Center, I saw some truly gorgeous scarves, in classic colors with classic patterns, created by a Scottish Heritage foundation. I couldn’t resist. Sometimes you see something special and you know it. This scarf thrills my heart.
Leaving Jarlhof, we are stopped by a gate across the road and a red light. The road crosses the airport landing strip, and a plane is landing, stopping all traffic in both directions until the gates are lifted once again. We watch the plane land, and then we proceed. I’ve since learned from Ann Cleeves that this is Sumburgh Airport, into which investigators and medical examiners fly from Aberdeen when there are all these murders in Shetland.
Our ride home is beautiful, again the hills with sheep and cows and ponies, even a few goats. We see small farms, we reach Lerwick where the Viking Jupiter is docked and see granite and sandstone buildings, a high street for shopping and modern supermarkets. Our guide is very proud to tell us that most of the shops in the Shetlands are privately owned, with very few chain stores. Shopping is more personal. Mail order through the internet is iffy – because everything has to come in by air or by sea, weather plays a big role, particularly the wind and rain, and no one guarantees “next-day” delivery.
Back on board, we both choose Malabar beef curry with roasted carrots and are delighted. Afterwards, we go down to the main lounge for coffee, then to the spa to exercise and to recover from our morning.
I try to carve a time each day when I can write this journal while our memories are still fresh, but there is so much! I wake up in the middle of the night remembering new things I need to tell you about!
We are starting to think about packing. Every time we think about it, we put it off. Our ship just departed Shetland for Bergen, Norway, where we will spend the day tomorrow, then depart on Monday for home. We can pack tomorrow.
Leaving Shetland – even the skies and seas are the Shetland colors of my scarf!
Maybe this was the best day of our trip?
British Isles: Aberdeen Exceeds Expectations
We had low expectations for Aberdeen, but thanks to a truly great guide on our Aberdeen historical and architectural tour, we now see Aberdeen in a whole new light.
Our first impression as we drive around, is how very clean Aberdeen is. Our guide, Andy, told us that when COVID struck, and tourism dwindled to nearly nothing, the city took a very preemptive move to ask the oil and gas companies for funds to pressure wash and clean all the granite buildings. The difference is astonishing. The grey granite of Aberdeen sparkles!
The Historic Aberdeen tour started with a drive through the area with the private schools, leading to a visit at two universities where they had recently cleaned everything, and it was stunningly beautiful. We were able to visit the old library, classroom and chapel.
Continuing on, we go to Fitbee/Footee, a picturesque fishing village tired of all the tour buses coming through and taking photos into their windows (!). My great favorite at the beach in Fittee is the mobile sauna booths. Such creative enterprise!
We hit the high points of downtown, the shopping streets, and the architectural highlights.
Then we stop at Union Terraces, surrounded by the King’s Theatre, St. Mark’s Cathedral, The Andrew Carnegie Library, and a modern apartment complex built around an old church tower. We visit an impressive statue of William Wallace; Andy tells us to be sure to read the inscription and narrative at the bottom of the statue:
“Go back to your masters, and tell them that we came not to treat, but to fight and set Scotland free.”
(Answer of Wallace to the English Friars sent to negotiate a pacific treaty with him before the battle of Stirling Bridge.)
We end the day with our old friends, having dinner in Manfredi’s. AdventureMan and I had the Brodetto, an Italian seafood stew, tasty – some might call it spicy, but it was not hot spicy, just tasty spicy. We shared stories, talked about our time in Saudi Arabia and in Germany, talked about common family issues and advice columns, and we laughed a lot. It was a delightful way to end a wonderful day. Below is our sunset en route to Kirkwall, in the Orkney Islands!
British Isles: Ullapool and What Day is This?
Our day started slowly, thank goodness. We are still sailing from Belfast to Ullapool, and we don’t expect to land until 1:00. Later we figure it out – at this time of year, there can be huge morning fogs. Most of the time it starts burning off around late morning. You can’t see much through the thick fog.
Some people are sleeping in, some are doing laundry. We have breakfast with our friends, then we hit the spa. We are ready to kick back. We are having a lot of fun, enjoying all the activity, and the truth is also – we are aging. We need to rest. I need time to process and integrate all the new sights I am seeing and cultural differences I am experiencing.
We are excited about our tour today, The Scenic Assynt. We tendered in, and boarded our bus. It got off to a surprising start. We were all aboard and the bus started. Two minutes into the trip, the air conditioning went off and the bus became stuffy very quickly. Formerly civil Viking tourists became rude, and shouted that we needed AC, but I think the driver needed the extra power to attack the hill heading out of the port. The bus rumbled and shuddered, and the guide was doing her best to soothe the savage beasts but was also on her phone to headquarters trying to get a back up bus and there wasn’t any.
It got better. The AC came back on, and we stopped at a geological reserve.
Here is where I have to make a sad confession. This reserve was wonderful. It had special stations to demonstrate how very old rock had extruded and somehow become above the much younger rock.
When I uploaded my photos, of this trip into the Assynt, and the next trip, in the Orkneys, I somehow didn’t save them to the desktop, and carefully deleted them from my camera and card.
Fortunately AdventureMan took some photos, and I had some on my phone, but sadly, the trips were both wonderful and I can’t show you how greatly wonderful they were. I am so sorry.
We also stopped by the ruins of an old castle en route to the small fishing village of Lochinver, very beautiful, very small, and I took a walk in the opposite direction of the others, and it was so QUIET.
One thing you don’t get on a cruise ship is a lot of quiet. Viking ships are quieter than most, but you get 900 people together, there’s going to be some noise. For the first time ever, we have a loudly quarreling, quarrelsome couple on one side of us. Fortunately, it is sporadic, not all the time.
With the fog rolling in to this small fishing village of Lochinver, it was so silent. It wasn’t even muffled, it was silent. My ears were ringing with the silence! I loved it!
I rely on my photos to tell the story, and without them, I can’t remember all that I saw. What I do remember is the warmth with which we were greeted at Ullapool, in the Scottish Highlands, that they truly made us feel appreciated. I remember thinking I would love to come back to Ullapool, so small, so isolated, with so few tourists. There were families, and hikers and people from many nations, but not the thousands that come in on the ships. We were the only ship in port this day.
Much of the time is foggy in Ullapool, in August, and then there are times when the fog burns off. Then the fog comes back again, and then, just as the sun is setting, it might break through.
We have reservations this night at Manfredi’s, the ship’s Italian specialty restaurant, and are shown to a quiet table by the window in the back of the restaurant. We love it. Our waiters are kind and funny, and help us make great choices for dinner.
Paris, Le Train Bleu, and Adieu
We have just enough time when we get back to the Napoleon Hotel to wash up and head right back out again to catch the Metro to Le Gare du Lyon where we have a reservation for lunch at Le Train Bleu. This is where those Navigo Easy Pass cards come in so handy – no stopping to buy tickets, we already have trips loaded on our cards.
We have noticed some changes – look at this metro car – can you see how clean it is? This is not the metro I remember. I never saw a busker, not a singer, not a violin player. The French, except for one snooty shoe saleswoman, were infallibly polite and welcoming. People who waited on us in restaurants, even waiting on people with children, were patient and kind. We wondered if there had been a campaign to train people in preparation for the Olympics?
We don’t like to be late, so we often arrive too early. Never mind, there are always things to look at, and this train station, Le Gare du Lyon, is full of interesting sights and people.
One group of well-dressed, attractive young women were handing people something – religious tracts? bracelets? something for “free” but they also wanted to talk, and we could tell that the talk was about making a donation. We had heard of this technique, but this was the only time we saw it happen. We think maybe the heavy police presence in Paris has deterred a certain amount of begging and scamming, maybe even the pick-pocketing.
AdventureMan is hungry; he checks at Le Train Bleu to see if we can get in a little earlier than our reservation, and the answer is a very gracious “Yes!” We love the location of our table, on the side of the restaurant looking out, but with a good view of the entire (huge) restaurant.
I knew what I wanted – Paté to start, and a salad for my main course. AdventureMan also had the paté and then a fish, with a sauce.
It was a lovely celebratory meal, in a glorious location. Well done, AdventureMan!
We wandered back to the hotel, repacked our bags for the following day, napped a little, and then had another small supper at Chez Barbara’s.
Tauck Treats: A Day of Amazement in Paris
Sunrise over the Seine, and yes, that is the Eifel Tower and it is another glorious (and hot) day. We are still jet lagging, which means getting up early is easy.
It is wonderful to have a grandson who has a good eye with a camera.
The area where we are docked is modern, with businesses, apartment blocks, a little industrial, and – we are right by a beautiful park with an air balloon, convenient to a train station just steps away on a major line that can take us anywhere we want to go (K discovered this yesterday and shares with us) and we are sleeping on the Seine with a view of the Eifel tower. For me, it just never fails to thrill.
Tauck Treats. Today is a day like no other, for me. Today, I just do what I’m told, go where I am taken and I don’t have to make things happen, just be fully present. I love it. Tauck doesn’t tell you everything you’re going to do; it is a mystery, a treat when it happens. One of today’s treats is that they are giving us Euros to find where we want to eat. The amount is generous, and some are choosing to eat street food and spend the rest on souvenirs.
One surprise is that we are on a smaller, private Bateau Mouche. This is really fun! We are doing the same trip, only one way; we board right next to our ship and will get off at Ile de la Cite’.
I love his bird’s eye view – I wonder if he has to walk up all those flights carrying his groceries? Maybe they have retrofitted an elevator?
We arrive; the normal toilets are blocked off with the upcoming Olympics, so Tauck makes a deal with a local store to let us use their restroom – a familiar store on the Left Bank (Subway.)
It’s a long line, but serendipitous – we start to meet our cruising mates. Here is one of the unexpected blessings. The cruise is full of families of all shapes and kinds. Some are celebrating, and some are grieving and overcoming losses. Some are traditional and some are not. The families are formulated all different ways with one thing in common – they love their children and grandchildren, and the trip is a wonderful way to spend time together. We all have a lot in common, no matter what our differences might be.
We are in the group that starts with the Citroyen Tour, and we have to be a party of three so we ask to take N with us – she is a lot of fun.
We arrived back at the meeting point to discover our other three family members had not been able to go, they were one car short! We agreed to take N on the next activity, and then split up for lunch, agreeing to meet in an hour.
We walked a short way into the Left Bank and found a place to eat that sang to our souls.
Our time in Paris is short; we are happy to make the most of it!
Pork with sauce, frites, and salad
Steak frites and salad
I forgot to take pictures of the chocolate mousse!
Across the street was a very beautiful small church, Sainte Severin. As we stood outside looking at it, the waiter ran after us carrying my husband’s “go bag” with our maps and water jugs. He was so kind and went to a lot of trouble to catch us.
We meet up with our family, grab N and head for our group meet-up.
We love Paris. We’ve spent a lot of time in Paris. AdventureMan and I agree that our next experience blows us out of the water. It is thrilling, and it brings history to life in an intense way – you are a participant!
It is called Eternelle Notre Dame.
If someone told you that you would experience the history of Notre Dame Cathedral, you might go ho-hum. I did.
We were guided downstairs to what I am told used to be an underground parking lot, now a museum and virtual reality area. N went with a couple of her friends, and we were right behind her. You only “see” the persons in your group, but others appear, and we always know which one was N, so we felt comfortable that she was safe.
We were suited up with a backpack thing and helmet, including goggles that covered our entire upper faces. It felt a little creepy but I was curious enough to endure it.
And then the adventure begins! Your medieval guide appears and gives you instructions. You see a path and you follow it, or if you do not, you wait for instruction. Sounds simple enough, right? At the beginning, it is.
You are surrounded by medieval Paris. You meet the craftsmen and watch them work. They are just beginning to build the cathedral.
Now I will stop telling you about the experience or I may tell you too much. Perhaps I am too suggestible. My husband said I nearly gripped his hand off! There were times I could NOT move forward, I was so afraid. I knew this was make-believe, but my lying eyes told me otherwise. Once, I groaned aloud!
It was one of the most memorable, intense Paris experiences I have ever had, and I feel like I was there, all the many years they spent building the cathedral. I had no idea! When I can re-visit the real Notre Dame of Paris, it will be with new eyes and new appreciation!
(I screenshotted these images off TripAdvisor, which sells tickets for this visit.)
N had a great time, too. We met up with her parents and then parted company. Here is the truth – sometimes we are bad examples to our grandchildren. We skipped the walk. We told the guide we knew how to return to the ship, and we went to a cafe to sit and talk about our Eternelle Notre Dame experience. What was really fun was that the walking group went by and we waved at our family from our cafe’ table.
We had an iced lemon drink, leisurely found our way to the metro/train station, and caught the train to Javel. It was a short walk to the ship, where we met up for a lively dinner.
Taos, So Beautiful, We’ll Be Back
Some places, when you arrive, you just feel at home. We felt that way arriving in Taos. Our active-aging demographic went hand in hand with the young skier/snowboarder/rafter athletic demographic, and the two seemed to co-exist well.
We met a man in town who loves petroglyphs as I do, knows the secrets of where to find them and also has a vibrant and active mind. We found great walking, and beautiful spaces. We can’t wait to go back to Taos.
Lady Emma Takes us On a Tour of Lake Powell
Dinner took two hours and by the time we left the restaurant, I was almost falling over from fatigue, despite our late afternoon naps. I still had to wash my hair, and the hair dryer was a puny little thing (I’m not very happy when I am tired. I’m like a whiny baby.) We slept well, and were up and ready for our boat trip in plenty of time.
As we grabbed coffee, tea and some breakfast at the Starbucks while waiting for our trip to go, I wondered about the management of the Lake Powell Resort. It is the only hotel on Lake Powell, and the view goes on forever. When I looked it up, I learned it is a National Park Service hotel, operated and managed by Aramark, who runs various hospitality sites around the world.
I looked them up. Here is their mission statement:
We are a leading global provider of food, facilities and uniform services to education, healthcare, business and industry, and sports, leisure and corrections clients. Our core market is North America, which is supplemented by an additional 20-country footprint serving many of the fastest-growing global geographies.
It sounds to me like a major contract management company, with a lot of sub-contractors.
At Lake Powell, I was impressed by how many employees were Native American and wondered if it were an employment priority. I had thought perhaps Lake Powell was a tribal-owned facility, but I was wrong.
We had to check in at the lodge for the boat trip. We watched people gather, check-in (or not; some people were trying to get on the trip but the boat was fully booked) and they were of all nationalities. A large Indian family with two young children came aboard, a French couple, and a variety of other people until the boat was filled. The employee checking us in then had to go down to the marina and get a train, as the train driver had not shown up. She came back and took us down in three trips. The captain of the boat was also female, and her assistant was also female all Navaho.
We had a great boat ride. I wish I could remember all the sights she pointed out to us. We first went by the marina, then to Glen Canyon Dam, then on the Colorado River and then on the Navaho River. It was a beautiful day, the light was great, and we were just really glad to be on board.
After the boat ride we quickly cleaned up and went into nearby Page to the State 48 Bar and Grill, where we decided we had made the right choice. The place had a great menu and was full of locals. AM had a beer and a Cowboy Burger, and I had the Avocado Black Bean Tacos. It was all delicious and satisfying.
Just around the corner was the Dara Express Thai food (and Korean and Vietnamese) but as it turned out, they did not have the Vietnamese salad rolls we love to have for dinner, but there was a Safeway nearby, full of ready-made meals, including sushi. The tour buses had dropped off a hoard of European tourists who were also picking up dinner. We saw the same in Moab last year; it makes for some nice options when people want to eat lighter at dinner. Or if they will be staying at a resort far from town with limited restaurant options. One of the tourists was kind enough to show us where the condiments, plastic knives, forks, and spoons were available, so we were fixed up in no time with our own dinner.
It was HOT. We had food in the car and had to take it out for fear of a melted chocolate mess. The biscotti were fine, but my chocolate-covered caramels were a soggy mess and had to be tossed.
The heat was simmering, the light was hard and flat and it was a good time for a nap. We snoozed a while, then hit the pool. There is more than one, and the one closest to us is always full, so we end up at the pool at the lodge, where we can get lounge chairs. As we enter, a woman asks “Can I ask, where did you get that?” I was carrying a noodle and I thought she was asking about that, but no, she wanted to know where I found the pool towel. I showed her the pool towel cupboard but it was empty. AM advised her to ask at reception, but she just sat by the side of the pool and scowled.
Cortez to Lake Powell
“Why Lake Powell?” asks AdventureMan. “The North Rim of the Grand Canyon isn’t open, and we haven’t seen Lake Powell,” I respond. “Have you looked at Lake Powell on the map? It’s man-made, and it goes on for miles. We might want to see it before it all dries up.”
Last year, on the Colorado River in May, the river levels were already desperately low.
“And it’s also a road we like, not interstate, gorgeous formations, and featured in Dark Winds and Outer Range,” I add.
Our last breakfast is the organic eggs and the last of AMs chicken mole, a delicious combination, as we pack our gear, strip our beds, wash the dishes, and load up the car. We say goodbye to Cecilia as we are leaving and head out back down the highway toward Kayenta, heading for Lake Powell.
Once again the scenery changes dramatically. We leave behind the high mountains and head down into red cliffs and huge dramatically sculpted free-standing flat-topped monuments in the desert. The clouds are dark and equally dramatic, making for some great contrasts.
We stop at Basha’s in Keyenta, a grocery store we love, and discover it has seriously modernized in the years since we last visited. The first thing we see when we enter is a Starbucks, just in time for me to get a mid-morning caffeine fix. All the different sectors of the grocery have signs in two languages, English and Navaho for produce, meat, bakery, delicatessen, etc.
While waiting for my coffee, a toddler came running in, wearing a dress and glasses almost as big as her face. She was so cute! The lady next to me showed us a photo of her granddaughter, equally cute. We, grandmothers, are all the same, so proud of our grandchildren.
We stopped at an overlook where I thought I saw a coyote, but AM said it was just a dog, and then there were two. I hope they hadn’t been abandoned there, I hope there was an unseen residence nearby where they lived.
Coming into Lake Powell was another dramatic shift in scenery, bleak and deserted, but contrasted with the bright blue waters of Lake Powell. We stopped at Big John’s Texas BBQ and ate at long picnic tables surrounded by tourists from many nations.
We then headed on to the Lake Powell resort, where we have reservations, and fortunately they have our room ready. It is a pretty standard kind of hotel room, except that it has a panoramic view of Lake Powell, and that makes all the difference.
When we go to confirm our boat ride for tomorrow, the concession clerk tells us we are lucky to be on tomorrow morning as the one for this afternoon was canceled because the boat had a problem. Evidently, it wasn’t pretty. She had all these people seriously disappointed they weren’t going to get their boat ride, they were only here today, their bus would be leaving and she had had quite a time trying to unruffle all those feathers. We gave her our utmost sympathy.
I had a good swim for about half an hour at the pool, it felt so good, and then a few drops of rain – well I can handle that.
And then lightning and thunder, and that is a good time to get out of the pool. We head back to the room and I catch up on documenting our journey. Soon we need to get ready for dinner; the restaurant here has a famous Cioppino which we intend to share with a couple salads.
The Cioppino was delicious, as was the Caesar salad I had preceding it.
We were lucky to have reservations, people were being turned away, and all around us were tables of tour groups, eating their meals. We could see they had choices, an appetizer, soup or salad, and an entree. They all got dessert. They were having a great time, and getting them in and out is clearly the hotel’s bread and butter. Lake Powell is a great stop between places like Zion and Bryce Canyon and Mesa Verde, or Canyon de Chilly or Santa Fe, and what we saw now, in late mid-May is just the beginning.
What puzzles me is that the restaurant is at full capacity, and people are being turned away, what will they do when the high season hits? Our waiter tells us there is a real problem finding enough people to work there, and the resort is several miles from Pace, the nearest city, so there is nowhere else for the people on bus tours to eat.
The Million Dollar Highway: Montrose to Silverton, Colorado
Once on the road leaving Montrose, we immediately ran into seasonal road work teams out repairing the damage snow and ice can do to our interstate roads. Several times we had to wait while cars took turns going north or south while teams worked on the other side of the highway. Once past these minor delays, we enjoyed the fruits of their labors – the roads to the south had already been repaired.
I’ve never found a definitive reason for the name Million Dollar Highway. Some say it was the cost per mile to build it, some say it is for the Million Dollar views (I would agree the views are worth it, but I am not sure that is the reason for the name.) There are as many stories as there are resources. Sometimes I think people just like a good story.
The Google lady REALLY wanted us to go through Telluride; we had to tell her “No Thanks” several times, and we were so glad we did. This was a day of spectacular mountain scenery that is every bit as awe-inspiring as Going to the Sun Road up in Glacier National Park.
First, the roads are clear in mid-May and passable, and the view is one series of snow-clad mountain peaks after another. The three-hour ride took us much longer because we had to stop so many times to get out and look in wonder at waterfalls, mountain views, hot springs, and old mines, one great wonder after another.
We landed in Silverton for lunch, and AdventureMan spotted the restaurant where we had lunch – Handlebars.
It was quiet when we got there and we were seated by the owner, who also spends time in Venice, Florida, so we had a good chat.
Soon after we ordered, a huge crowd arrived. We later figured out that the train from Durango had come in, probably doubling the population of Silvertown for the few hours before they had to board the train to return to Durango. Handlebars makes great hand-dipped onion rings, has a varied menu from chicken pot pies (made in house) to barbecue, to hamburgers, to salads – something delicious for everyone.
After lunch, we walked around Silverton and found the train, puffing away getting ready for the return trip.
Once back on the road, we are eager to get to Cortez. The landscape totally changes as we pass Durango, Mancos and Cortez en route to Kelly’s Ancient Echoes, where we will be staying.
Montrose, Colorado and Starvin’ Arvins
One of the best parts of this trip were the people we met. We heard so many great stories, and we listened! Mother’s Day in Montrose, we ended up at Ted Laurence’s Steakhouse where I had a beautifully grilled salmon and my husband had soup and a big salad.
It was a good meal, but the best part was our waitress, Maria. We talked with Maria and discovered we had both lived in Monterey, CA. They had left a year ago; California was just too expensive, and rents, like everywhere, just kept going up. She and her husband are hard workers and took a chance that Montrose might give them an opportunity to save, buy their own house and maybe even start their own restaurant. She mentioned a restaurant where she meets up with friends once a week, Starvin’ Arvins. After looking at the planned route for the next day, we decided to give Starvin’ Arvins a try for breakfast the next day.
Back at our large, beautiful, and very empty B&B, we slept fitfully and were happy to pack up and leave the next morning. We never saw or had any contact with management other than the message giving us our entry codes.
We headed back into Montrose for breakfast and gas. Starvin’ Arvins was definitely the place to be.
They had a menu that was a hungry man’s dream, with all the usual suspects, but we went with Cat’s Head biscuits, a huge cinnamon roll, and the oatmeal came with a huge bowl of blueberries.
We were lucky to get there when we did; the place filled up quickly.
Service was fast and friendly; once again we had a wonderful waitress who took really good care of us and carefully boxed one of the gigantic cinnamon rolls to take with us – it will last for several days, and will be happily dunked in my coffee if it gets a little stale.
(We were never able to finish the cinnamon roll, it was so huge.)
As we are leaving, here is our view to the South.
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