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Day two on the ranch. Horseback riding.
You can’t get much more Texas than horseback riding past longhorn cattle and sheep. Now, let me preface that I haven’t been on a horse since I was 12…and this was more of a lumbering waddle than a graceful gallop full-speed through the Texas hills. Think more along the lines of City Slickers, before Billy Crystal helps birth a calf and suddenly becomes a cowboy.
Even so, still pretty cool. I loped along atop my horse, Spirit, who didn’t seem to realize that there was someone on top of him and liked to cut it close trotting under low-hanging branches. But this didn’t take away from the starkly beautiful views. Rocky hills with serengeti-like trees, dried up river beds and of course, the random livestock sightings.
Cut to the evening. Supper’s on.
Escaping the ranch’s oasis-type feel, we headed into Kerrville for a little local Texas culture: Mamacita’s, a Disney-esque restaurant with a giant Alamo replica in the dining room, complete with Mexican storefronts and a twinkling starry sky. Kitschy? Maybe. Delicious? Definitely. Our group wolfed down blackened snapper, shrimp fajitas, carnitas, chimichangas and goblet-sized servings of margaritas. And for dessert? the restaurant has its own ice cream parlor in one of the faux storefronts.
So maybe it wasn’t the roadside taco hut I was anticipating, but after a few Negro Modelos and a hearty portion of chips and salsa, I was ready to recommend it to anyone who was hungry.
What do you get when you mix nine New York Jews with Texas Hill Country? Well, I am about to find out.
I just arrived in Kerrville, Texas yesterday afternoon, a small town around two hours west of Austin. So far? I have to say I’m impressed. To be honest before I arrived I had no idea what I was in for. As a “Yankee,” when you hear Texas you think super-sized, T-bones and Republicans. But let me tell you something. Texas is big. Very big. And Hill Country? From what I can tell is not your stereotypical Texas.
Around two years ago my aunt and her husband, both born and raised in Brooklyn, moved from Rockaway, Queens to Tierra Linda Ranch in Kerrville. I was one among many skeptics that they could make Texas their new home. But when I got off the plane and my uncle (a connoisseur of pastrami, seltzer and bagels) couldn’t stop raving about the horses, antelope and sheep, I knew that this was not a place I could so easily write off.
If the gorgeous scenery of rolling, rocky hills and multitude of animals aren’t enough to rope you in (a little cowboy humor for you), maybe the absolutely selfless attitude of people will. Everyone I have come into contact with has been nothing but willing to help, no questions asked and no favors in return needed. Take this for example. I spent last night in the guest house of my aunt’s neighbor. (There are nine of us here for Passover. As close as we are, nine Jews under one roof is recipe for disaster.) The neighbors were more than willing to help. Several just offered up their own guest houses to strangers. Just like that.
My guest house, belonging to the lovely Ron and Cheryl, is decked out in a wild safari theme. I’m talking leopard sheets, zebra statues and wild peacock feathers in the bathroom. Ron and Cheryl stocked the mini fridge with sodas and beer and are installing a brand new TV for me this afternoon. Talk about hospitality.
I’m excited to see what other adventures the Ranch has in store for me. Stay tuned…
I love my city but believe it or not, one can tire of the 3 a.m. nights, constant noise and and endless interaction. I am a firm believer that getting out of the city at least once a month is necessary to maintaining sanity. My go-to city? A nice visit to my family in Woodstock, New York.
A little hike up to Dancing Rock in Shokan, New York.
Okay, we are all thinking the same thing. Woodstock is only good for relaxing because of one “herbal” remedy, and I’m not going to lie to you. The air is ripe with it. But hippie jokes aside, this is actually a pretty cool town. Of course, you can’t walk more than three blocks without seeing a grizzled man in a tie-dye headband and flannel, tapping his feet to some Dead song, but that’s part of the charm. (Note: The Woodstock festival in 1969 took place around two hours from the actual town of Woodstock, in Bethel, New York. A little insider’s tip for you.)
I just got back from my monthly hiatus. A nice weekend of hiking, barbecuing and sitting outside, where the only sound is crickets. Now, my family lives a stone’s throw from Woodstock in less-touristy Shokan, but Woodstock and the surrounding area is a great place to go for a day-trip or an entire weekend.
Getting there: If you have a car, Woodstock is exit 19 off the New York State Thruway. If not, and you are coming from NYC, head to Port Authority and take Adirondack Trailways bus service. The bus ride is around two and a half hours and a round-trip ticket costs $50.
My top picks:
Sweet Sue’s Restaurant – If you stay on the bus for a few more stops you’ll wind up in the hunting town of Phoenicia. The main drag (aptly named Main Street) is just a couple blocks but you’ll find some of the best eats. My top breakfast spot is Sweet Sue’s restaurant (try the breakfast burrito – a mammoth-sized roll-up of eggs, bacon, cheese and avocado served with a side of salsa). I’m not a pancake person, but if you are this is your stop. Sue serves up a selection of around 20 different styles of pancakes.
I wasn’t kidding about the pancakes.
Brio’s, also in Phoenicia, is great for pizza, and this is coming from a New Yorker. This thin-crust beauty tastes good with just about any topping. My favorite? Goat cheese and onions.
Saturdays head to Woodstock for the flea market. Peruse old records, toys, clothes and jewelry while some kid tries his luck singing Bob Dylan tunes in the background. I found Led Zeppelin I and Paul Simon‘s Graceland on vinyl for $3 each. Great bargain.
And of course, you can’t beat the hiking. For some of the top-rated trails, click here.
I guarantee you’ll come back to the city feeling relaxed and refreshed. And if you happen to dip into the town’s favorite crop, I won’t tell.
No one remembers 9/11 quite like a New Yorker. I was 14, a freshman in high school, and sitting in fourth period Global Studies when the announcement came over the PA system that a plane had gone through both the North and South towers of the World Trade Center. My friends and teachers had parents and siblings in those buildings.
Yes, the tragedy has left an obvious and painful scar across the face of our country, but most Americans aren’t faced with reminders every day – like the giant gap in the skyline where the Towers once stood, or the gaping, debris-littered hole downtown. It’s safe to say we, as a city, are far from being over it…
…which is why I was disgusted to learn today that Club Quarters Inc., a hotel development company, is looking to turn 9/11 into a business opportunity and a tourist attraction, reported the Associated Press yesterday morning.
To me this seems to be the lowest of the low. Capitalizing on a national tragedy? Thinking that enough time has passed that people have forgotten about all the damage that followed?
The hotel, World Center Hotel (which began taking reservations last month!) will feature floor-to-ceiling windows in many of its rooms that open directly onto the construction. The AP writes, “Guests and members will have access to the restaurant patio with views of giant cranes, jackhammers and metal scaffolding.” Are you kidding me!? The draw of this hotel is to watch men and women hard at work clearing off a site where nearly 3,000 lives were taken because of some f*d up hatred towards the United States and the radical, religious fundamentalist thinking of a handful of loons.
I’ve come up with a comparison. During the Vietnam War, thousands upon thousands of landmines were planted in Vietnam and Laos, a surrounding country. To this day the Vietnamese and Laos people are still digging up and detonating the landmines so that they don’t continue to claim innocent lives. Imagine now putting up a hotel in one of these fields, with giant-paned windows, so that guests could watch these men and women undo the damage that was done to their people and their country.
This is not what tourism and the travel industry is about and the fact that there are people who are willing to do anything to make a buck (introductory rates are $99 on weekends and $179 on weekdays), throwing their human decency to the wind, makes me sick.
At least I’m not the only one. The AP article quoted Michael Meindorfer, a tourist on his visit to ground zero from Frankfurt, Germany. “I wouldn’t stay there,” Meindorfer told the AP. “To go everyday and come home and see something like this….It’s sad.”
I welcome your thoughts.
Part of my job includes uploading special travel deals onto my company’s website. (Thrilling, I know, but somebody has to do it.) Normally the deals I come across include a complimentary hotel night after a paid three-night stay, or spa vouchers, or a free bottle of champagne upon arrival.
But today I was filing a deal for luxury tour-operator, Tahiti Legends, which was offering a 13-day trip to Tahiti. It included round-trip airfare, luxury accommodations, a three-night cruise, private dinners on the beach, and a whole lot of other stuff that I could never afford. How much did this “deal” cost?…
…$170,000 per couple!
No, you did not read that wrong, and no I did not put a comma in where I should have put a period. It is truly $170,000 per couple. Would we say that’s a deal? Shockingly, for some people, yes it is.
This got me thinking about the most expensive vacations in the world. A quick search on Google and I came up with this:
Emirates Palace in Abu Dhabi Offers $1 Million Valentine’s Holiday.
$1 million! So what does this package include?
The package, which was available from February 11, 2010, includes first class roundtrip on Etihad Airways from any international destination; seven nights in a Palace Suite at Emirates Palace, a chauffeur-driven Maybach trips during the stay; daily spa treatments in the Anantara Spa; and private jet trips to Iran, Jordan and Bahrain.
Now that is a vacation….if you can swing it. And I’m not judging. I’m just strongly considering a change in profession.