by Pa Rock
Tourist
Our weekend getaway in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, has concluded and Patti and I are back at our respective homes. To say that Rosie was very glad to see me walk through the kitchen door earlier today would be serious understatement!
Sitting down at the keyboard this afternoon, I faced a challenge: should I return to the drudgery of wading through the political trash blowing across the landscape, almost all of it Republican, or should I spend my time more pleasantly recapping the trip to Eureka Springs, my first visit there in over twenty years? I am opting to say a bit more about "the Switzerland of the Ozarks" and save the political bellyaching for later in the week - although I have enough righteous anger percolating in my aging brain over a couple of Trump and Roy Moore offenses against decency that the resulting rants will literally write themselves - when the time comes.
The ultimate "high" point of the trip to Eureka Springs was obviously the lady who chose to accompany me there. It's always fun to have someone with whom to share a travel experience - or any experience, for that matter.
A big highlight was the people who gathered in town to celebrate Veteran's Day. One of the restaurants provided a free meal to veterans on Friday evening, and on Saturday morning as we drove down the hill and into the older part of town we encountered a large group of individuals standing in a park who seemed to be gathered for a Veteran's Day observance. Many in that group appeared to be biker's and their "old ladies" - and most were clad in black leather and plastic biker apparel, much of it emblazoned with the "Harley" name and logo - and almost all were in my age range and dealing with weight challenges. But they were a fun group and we encountered many of them as we strolled the streets and gawked and shopped.
Another event that unfolded in Eureka while we were there was a Porsche rally. Patti was on one side of a narrow street and I was on the other when the first shiny roadster with a Porsche flag flying out of the window came roaring past. It was followed by (and I am guesstimating here based on the amount of time it took all to pass) three-to-four-hundred others of all makes and models in a vibrant array of colors - all flying their distinctive Porsche flags. (The last time I had stumbled upon a rally that enthusiastic and with as many participants was years ago in Idaho or Montana while on a family vacation. That time it was miles and miles of Airstream trailers making their way down the highway - exactly like the ones depicted in the film "What's Eating Gilbert Grape.")
One store that we visited had a rabbit assisting at the cash register. Before I paid for an item, the fellow behind the counter told me to get my camera ready. He had a very large spotted "rescue" rabbit named "Gumbo" dozing on the counter. When the fellow was giving change for my purchase he would hand each dollar bill to Gumbo who would take it in his mouth, and then turn his head toward me and drop the bill in front of me. When he got to the receipt, the rabbit bit off a piece to chew on and gave the rest to me. Gumbo also gave me the merchandise which I had just paid for. Later I returned to make another purchase, one that I paid for with a credit card. Gumbo took my card and gave it to his boss - and then returned it to me. Again, he took a bite of the receipt for himself!
Gumbo was, according to his business partner, a mixed breed rabbit who was probably a majority "Flemish Giant." He was a very sweet and docile bunny!
The "low" points were few in number, though memorable nonetheless. One involved a search yesterday morning for something resembling a standard breakfast - eggs, meat, toast, and maybe a side of hash-browns or grits. Real food for real people. We finally settled on a small cafe that had a large sign proclaiming "Brunch" out front on the sidewalk. The two breakfasty choices were a fried egg sandwich with all sorts of odd ingredients including spinach (Patti had that) - and Fettucini Alfredo with fried egg, which I tried. My choice proved to be even worse than it sounded, and I suffered the consequences well into the evening.
Another low point was our accommodations. The first evening I realized that I didn't have the wifi code to get on the internet. I started to call the motel office to get the log-in information - only to discover that the room had no telephone. It took a walk to the office to get the code. While I there I asked the manager about the missing room phone. The sweet old thing who insisted on calling me "honey" replied that she had recently bought the place and had gotten tired of cleaning the phones - and besides they ran $25 per room, an expense she felt was unnecessary since everyone has their own phones now.
After walking back to the room and trying the wifi code - only to learn that I still could not access the internet - I made another trip to the office. This time the manager told "honey" that the wifi didn't always reach every room - but she was happy to have me sit in the lobby and type my blog there - which I did. Always assume that "wifi available" might not actually be available in the room - just somewhere on the premises - like when Eddie Albert had to climb the telephone pole on "Green Acres" in order to make a call!
But heck, tourist town or not, it's still Arkansas.
Rosie calls it "Barkansas!"
Rosie isn't going to like it when I start trying to teach her to make change!
Tourist
Our weekend getaway in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, has concluded and Patti and I are back at our respective homes. To say that Rosie was very glad to see me walk through the kitchen door earlier today would be serious understatement!
Sitting down at the keyboard this afternoon, I faced a challenge: should I return to the drudgery of wading through the political trash blowing across the landscape, almost all of it Republican, or should I spend my time more pleasantly recapping the trip to Eureka Springs, my first visit there in over twenty years? I am opting to say a bit more about "the Switzerland of the Ozarks" and save the political bellyaching for later in the week - although I have enough righteous anger percolating in my aging brain over a couple of Trump and Roy Moore offenses against decency that the resulting rants will literally write themselves - when the time comes.
The ultimate "high" point of the trip to Eureka Springs was obviously the lady who chose to accompany me there. It's always fun to have someone with whom to share a travel experience - or any experience, for that matter.
A big highlight was the people who gathered in town to celebrate Veteran's Day. One of the restaurants provided a free meal to veterans on Friday evening, and on Saturday morning as we drove down the hill and into the older part of town we encountered a large group of individuals standing in a park who seemed to be gathered for a Veteran's Day observance. Many in that group appeared to be biker's and their "old ladies" - and most were clad in black leather and plastic biker apparel, much of it emblazoned with the "Harley" name and logo - and almost all were in my age range and dealing with weight challenges. But they were a fun group and we encountered many of them as we strolled the streets and gawked and shopped.
Another event that unfolded in Eureka while we were there was a Porsche rally. Patti was on one side of a narrow street and I was on the other when the first shiny roadster with a Porsche flag flying out of the window came roaring past. It was followed by (and I am guesstimating here based on the amount of time it took all to pass) three-to-four-hundred others of all makes and models in a vibrant array of colors - all flying their distinctive Porsche flags. (The last time I had stumbled upon a rally that enthusiastic and with as many participants was years ago in Idaho or Montana while on a family vacation. That time it was miles and miles of Airstream trailers making their way down the highway - exactly like the ones depicted in the film "What's Eating Gilbert Grape.")
One store that we visited had a rabbit assisting at the cash register. Before I paid for an item, the fellow behind the counter told me to get my camera ready. He had a very large spotted "rescue" rabbit named "Gumbo" dozing on the counter. When the fellow was giving change for my purchase he would hand each dollar bill to Gumbo who would take it in his mouth, and then turn his head toward me and drop the bill in front of me. When he got to the receipt, the rabbit bit off a piece to chew on and gave the rest to me. Gumbo also gave me the merchandise which I had just paid for. Later I returned to make another purchase, one that I paid for with a credit card. Gumbo took my card and gave it to his boss - and then returned it to me. Again, he took a bite of the receipt for himself!
Gumbo was, according to his business partner, a mixed breed rabbit who was probably a majority "Flemish Giant." He was a very sweet and docile bunny!
The "low" points were few in number, though memorable nonetheless. One involved a search yesterday morning for something resembling a standard breakfast - eggs, meat, toast, and maybe a side of hash-browns or grits. Real food for real people. We finally settled on a small cafe that had a large sign proclaiming "Brunch" out front on the sidewalk. The two breakfasty choices were a fried egg sandwich with all sorts of odd ingredients including spinach (Patti had that) - and Fettucini Alfredo with fried egg, which I tried. My choice proved to be even worse than it sounded, and I suffered the consequences well into the evening.
Another low point was our accommodations. The first evening I realized that I didn't have the wifi code to get on the internet. I started to call the motel office to get the log-in information - only to discover that the room had no telephone. It took a walk to the office to get the code. While I there I asked the manager about the missing room phone. The sweet old thing who insisted on calling me "honey" replied that she had recently bought the place and had gotten tired of cleaning the phones - and besides they ran $25 per room, an expense she felt was unnecessary since everyone has their own phones now.
After walking back to the room and trying the wifi code - only to learn that I still could not access the internet - I made another trip to the office. This time the manager told "honey" that the wifi didn't always reach every room - but she was happy to have me sit in the lobby and type my blog there - which I did. Always assume that "wifi available" might not actually be available in the room - just somewhere on the premises - like when Eddie Albert had to climb the telephone pole on "Green Acres" in order to make a call!
But heck, tourist town or not, it's still Arkansas.
Rosie calls it "Barkansas!"
Rosie isn't going to like it when I start trying to teach her to make change!
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