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The New Madrid Fault Line

The New Madrid Fault Line

We are spending half a day in New Madrid, MO, our last port before we reach Memphis tomorrow.  New Madrid (pronounced with a short ‘a’ as in ‘snap’ – definitely not the Spanish pronunciation!) – is a small town.  Population 3,116.  At this point in the journey, I’m pretty much museum-ed out, so I’ll rely on the boat’s River Times to describe the town:

“The sun was a ‘globe of red hot iron’ the day before the quake came; the animals restless and uneasy.  But no one was prepared when the tremors began early in the morning of December 16, 1811.  They would last almost two years – with major shocks interspersed with the minor – destroying much of the bustling port of New Madrid, and sending its citizens fleeing for firmer ground.”  According to Wikipedia, some of the major quakes reached a magnitude of 8 and were felt as far away as the East Coast.  New Madrid lies on the appropriately named New Madrid Seismic Zone – the source of intraplate earthquakes in the southern and midwestern United States.  This citizens of New Madrid seem to take it in stride; our tour guide says after you’ve lived here a while, it becomes normal for your walls to shake a bit!

Like I said, I couldn’t face another museum, so I just walked around the town a bit.  During my walk through New Madrid’s downtown, I ran into a very nice gentleman.  I didn’t get his name, but I would like to share his story.  I met him in New Madrid’s little park dedicated to men and women from New Madrid County who served in the armed forces – from WW!! to the present.  I asked him if he’d lived in New Madrid his whole life, and he told me he had moved to New Madrid from eastern Tennessee many years ago.  What brought him to New Madrid?  He was serving in Vietnam, and a buddy from New Madrid sent a list of names (including my friend’s) to his sister, who posted the list in the local welfare office.  I surmised that these were the names of soldiers who were looking for pen pals.  Well, one young lady ran her finger down the list, settled on my friend’s name, and started corresponding with him.  A few months later, they were married and settled in New Madrid.  Forty some odd years later, they are still happily married with three grown children.  A lovely story, I thought.

That story made me love New Madrid a little bit.  Thank you, sir, whoever you are.

Flood Wall:  Welcome to Cape Girardeau, MO

Flood Wall: Welcome to Cape Girardeau, MO

Cape Girardeau is just a memory now.  What can I say?  It is a small town.  The people are friendly.  The murals on the flood wall were interesting.  Rush Limbaugh is from here.  Gross.  We were there on Sunday, so most of the shops were closed.  That is all.

What I wanted to focus on in this post is the American Queen’s onboard entertainment.  Let’s face it:  we are living on this boat, so the steamboat company is doing as much as it can to keep us entertained with music, performances, movies, etc.  Alcohol helps too.  Last night’s premiere entertainment:  Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra.  Impersonators, obviously.  But they were really good.  “Dean” kept a cigarette (unlit of course – no smoking on the boat!) firmly grasped between his fingers and sipped regularly from his tumbler of scotch between jokes.  And “Frank” came out wearing a fedora and entertained the crowd with his classics:  “Volare” and “My Way” among others.

Oh – did I forget to mention that I’m not the target demographic for this cruise?  Let me tell you how it went down.  St Louis.  Saturday morning.  Complimentary breakfast for the American Queen passengers in the Grand Ballroom.  I walk in and see many, many retirees.  Like in their 70s.  “Oh.  My.  God.” is my reaction.  No biggie, right?  Surely, there are a few people my age on this cruise.  Right?  Right?  I check in with the steamboat staff.  Gotta get my boarding card, my dinner table assignment, sign up for additional “premium” excursions if I so desire.  I ask the two friendly crew members who have just given my dinner table assignment:  “so, is there anyone on this cruise under the age of 45?”  “Yes,” they immediately respond, “the crew.”  Awesome.

This is my life, ya’ll.  I have this amazing ability to choose vacation trips that skew older.  Let’s be honest about this trip though.  I think the main reason this cruise skews to the older set is 1) they have the disposable income and 2) they have the time.  So I can’t really complain about being fortunate enough to have both at the young age of 42!  In many ways, the age difference makes it easier to accomplish what I wanted on this trip.  I wanted to relax, to decompress, to forget about work for a week, to read a lot, and to write.  I’m able to do all of it.  That said, if I ever do this again, I’m bringing my parents!

Whew!  I spent the day walking around downtown St. Louis.  I forgot how easy it is to get around this town.  My hotel was conveniently located in the heart of downtown, so I started my morning with a walk to the Gateway Arch.  My sister used to live here, so this wasn’t my first visit to the Arch, but it was nice to see it in the peace and quiet of an early Saturday morning – just me, the river, and a few early risers.  Construction on the Arch began in 1963 and was completed in 1965; the stainless steel monument is 630 feet high – the tallest man-made monument in the United States.  Did not know that.  Last time I was here – which was many years ago – my sister and I rode the car to the top of the Arch.  There are windows up there, so you can look out over the city.  And you can feel the structure sway a bit when it’s windy.  Let me just tell you now:  I have no photos to document this experience.  I’m afraid of heights, so I had to be cajoled into taking this little excursion.  Once at the top, I stood in the middle of the room not looking out of either set of windows.  So lame.  My sister got a real kick out of it.

Gateway Arch, St. Louis

Gateway Arch, St. Louis

But I digress.

By mid-morning, the temperature really started to rise.  No more cool, breezy morning.  I walked to Busch Stadium, snapped a photo of the Tums building along the way, and then headed back to the hotel’s cafe for a rest break.  Once I was sufficiently revived, I caught the MetroLink to Forest Park, where visitors can find the St. Louis Zoo, the St. Louis Science Center, and the St. Louis Art Museum.  First, let me just say that I really enjoy St. Louis’ light rail system.  The cars are clean and air conditioned, and the PA system works well (at least when I rode it today), and the maps make sense.  Granted, the MetroLink routes are not as complex as the DC area’s Metro system – MetroLink only goes east to west – but it’s still a good rapid transit system.  I think all of the stops are above-ground, so there are no complaints about adequate lighting (I’m looking at you WMATA!) and the system takes you to many of the tourist hot spots.  I give it a B+ (deducting only because of the limited lines).

In Forest Park, I stopped by the Zoo.  By this time, it was about 93 degrees outside, so I wasn’t really in the mood for a long stay.  And my timing was bad:  most of the animals were hidden from view in an effort to escape the heat.  I did manage to catch a glimpse of a rhino, a few Asian elephants, and a hyena.

Forest Park is massive – 1,371 acres (according to Wikipedia), smack dab in the middle of the city.  The park opened in 1876 and hosted both the Louisiana Purchase Exposition and the Summer Olympics (both in 1904).  The park is known as the “heart of St. Louis.”  I wish I’d had time to explore more than just the zoo, but I was on a bit of a time crunch.

After the Zoo and lunch at Union Station, it was time to head for the American Queen.  I’m checked into my little stateroom, unpacked, and settled in.  This should be fun…

The American Queen

The American Queen

I’m outta here today.  But before I go, I wanted to pass along a few random photos and thoughts about Colonial Williamsburg.  It’s definitely worth a visit.  The length of your stay will really depend on the depth of your curiosity about colonial times.  I’m sure some people go into every building, attend every special demonstration, and engage all of the “interpreters.”  (That’s right you guys.  These people in colonial garb are not mere actors.  They are INTERPRETERS).  Anyway, I am not one of those people.  I really loved the experience, but a weekend was all I needed.

I did make a point of visiting the African American Religion Exhibit.  A little disappointing – even when I put it in context.  The exhibit, located inside the former First Baptist Church, is on a side street on the edge of Williamsburg.  The building is small.  Okay, that’s realistic right?  I imagine that’s completely historically accurate.  The exhibit itself leaves something to be desired.  There’s a bible on display, and a few banners with quotations from historians.  And….scene.  I understand that recreating these communities depends largely on the historical records left behind, and given the status of African Americans in colonial times, it’s very unlikely that they left extensive written records.  Still, I wanted more.  Especially when you compare the little Baptist church with Williamsburg’s Bruton Parish Church.  Take a look:


First Baptist Church

First Baptist Church

Bruton Parish Church

Bruton Parish Church























Spinning, weaving, dying

Spinning, weaving, dying










Inside the little spinning/weaving workshop.  Thank God it’s a lot simpler now.  It takes me forever to finish a sweater as it is.  Can you imagine if I had to spin and dye the wool first?


The Playbooth Theatre:  All Shows Weather Permitting.  Remember – there are no small stages, only small actors.  Or something.

photo 2 photo 3












photo 4

Adios Williamsburg

photo 5

And Happy New Year!














Christmas Town.  Where children go to be amazed and grown-ups go to be children.  And I mean that in the nicest way.

My Colonial Williamsburg package included free entry to Busch Gardens’ Christmas Town.  (Although let’s get real.  Entry is not “free.”  I paid for it in my Williamsburg package.  But, whatever.)  So I was exhausted last night after walking around Colonial W’burg, but I was determined to see Christmas Town.  I was on a mission to check it out as a future vacation destination for my niece and her parents.

I’ve never been to Busch Gardens, so I have no idea what the place looks like on a “regular” day, but I believe it must be completely transformed for Christmas Town.  If you don’t own stock in the local electric company, call your broker now.  Christmas Town is truly lit up like a Christmas tree.  Times a thousand.  So you’ll need shades.

In addition to your sunglasses (haha), bring your walking shoes.  There’s a lot of ground to cover.  Christmas Town consists of several international villages:  Italy, France, Ireland, Germany, England, and a few others that I’ve forgotten.  And I guess each village is supposed to be representative of that particular country’s culture – everything from the music to the cuisine to the gift shops.  There are also special shows and performances that you can go to…but don’t be surprised if a separate ticket is required. There’s also a funicular and a train – fun for kids of all ages!

Now, I just did a quick circuit of Christmas Town.  I passed through England, Ireland and France.  Christmas week is a challenging time to visit; the crowds are unreal.  My suggestion?  Go earlier in December and if you can manage it, go twice.  Your first trip should be during daylight hours.  Consider this your reconnaissance trip.  Figure out the lay of the land and identify places you’d like to spend more time when you return.  Maybe even purchase tickets for evening shows and performances.  After your recon trip, go back to the hotel and relax.  Once the sun goes down, head back to Christmas Town.  Did I mention that there’s a shuttle that takes you from W’burg to Busch Gardens?  It picks you up right outside the Williamsburg Lodge.  You definitely want to go back after dark, so that you can see all of the Christmas lights.  It’s actually really beautiful.  My photos below don’t do it justice.

My verdict?  Christmas Town is definitely worth a visit.  Take your time, wear comfy shoes, and treat yourself to a hot chocolate.

Christmas Town:  France

Christmas Town: France

Big Ben:  Christmas Town England

Big Ben: Christmas Town England













I am kickin’ it in Colonial Williamsburg for a few days.  Can you believe I’ve never been here before?  I’ve lived in the DC metro area on and off for the last 10 years and I’ve never been here.  I’ve got about 18 months left on my current Washington assignment – a long way to go – but I’m now at the point where the urgent need to “see everything” is ever-present.  You know how it is:  you live in a city for a few years, and you think “I’ve got plenty of time to visit the XYZ” or “I’ll go there when friends/family visit.”  Right.  And then – times up!  And you never made it to Placencia or that Mayan temple or Sicily or whatever.  (Full disclosure:  I did, in fact make it to Placencia, many Mayan temples, and Sicily).

So here I am in Colonial Williamsburg.  I’m staying in the Williamsburg Lodge.  I’m sure there are many fine hotels near Colonial Williamsburg, and there’s a shuttle from the Williamsburg Visitors’ Center that brings folks to/from Colonial Williamsburg on a regular schedule.  However, I highly recommend staying “on site.”  Yes, it may be more expensive, but the convenience makes it worth it.  My hotel, Williamsburg Lodge, is lovely and conveniently located just a block from the main drag – Duke of Gloucester Street.  This is perfect for me.  I can walk around for a while and when I get cold or tired or I need to use the bathroom, I can get back to my hotel in about 5 minutes.

Before I get to the Colonial Williamsburg experience, let’s talk for a minute about the accommodations. I’ve traveled around the country with my family since I was a little girl and we stayed in a variety of hotels – everything from Holiday Inns to nice resorts in Arizona.  Now, when budget is the driving force, the Holiday Inns of this world will do just fine.  However, I really love it when my hotel room can be part of the experience.  That’s what I’ve got here at the Williamsburg Lodge.  My room is furnished to the time period.  I’m no expert on colonial furnishings, so I have no idea how accurate it is.  But the point is, I stepped into this room and I got in the mood for colonial times.  And yes, I have the luxury of getting in the mood without the hardships:  I have hot and cold running water, electricity, central heating, and a free wifi connection – which allows me to draft this blog at Williamsburg rather than waiting until I get home.

Williamsburg Lodge

Williamsburg Lodge


Williamsburg Lodge 2

You guys, I did a lot of walking yesterday.  Colonial times were rough!  Seriously though, if you miss one of the many orientation tours that the Williamsburg folks give to familiarize visitors with the layout (which I did), I recommend just getting out there and walking Duke of Gloucester Street.  I entered in the middle of the street and walked toward the Capitol.  (Truthfully, I had no destination in mind.  Whenever I’m lost or in unfamiliar surroundings, my general practice is to turn right…so I did).  What is the Capitol, you ask?  Exactly what it sounds like.  This is where the upper and lower houses of government met.  Court was also held here.  Can you believe that court sessions were held only four times per year?  For a population of about half a million?  Talk about your low crime rates.  Of course, if you committed a felony (theft, manslaughter, etc.), you would be branded (‘t” for theft, ‘m’ for manslaughter) for a first offense, so I guess that probably discouraged criminal activity.  Second offense?  Hanging.

The Capitol

The Capitol

Tour guide at the Capitol

Tour guide at the Capitol

From the Capitol, I walked back up Duke of Gloucester Street, stopping in the apothecary/doctor’s office.  The variety of plants and herbs with medicinal properties is really quite amazing.  Of course, I could do without the leeches for bloodletting and, speaking as someone who has had her fair share of serious illnesses, I’ll pass on the doctor’s office in colonial times.  Let’s just say it was primitive.  But let’s face it:  our colonial forebears managed to accomplish a lot with what they had.

After the apothecary, I stopped in the Raleigh Tavern Bakery.  Lines even in colonial times, y’all!  I don’t know if it was the hot apple cider, the gingerbread, or the Brunswick stew, but this place was insane!  Line out the door.  But the apple cider was delish.  From there, I strolled over to the market square, where vendors were selling everything from soaps to old coins to colonial children’s toys.  I was really, really tempted to buy something for my niece, but that girl has more stuff than she knows what to do with already!

At the other end of Duke of Gloucester Street – opposite the Capitol – you’ll find Merchants Square.  I was amazed to discover that Chico’s and Williams and Sonoma have been around since colonial times.  Just kidding!  Merchants Square has the facade of colonialism, but it’s modern all the way.  So yes – you will find Chico’s and Williams and Sonoma.  But for the most part, Merchants Square is made up of independent shops selling everything from cheese and olive oil, to pewter, jewelry, and coffee.  A few restaurants are thrown in there too.

The Kings Arms Tavern on Duke of Gloucester St.

The Kings Arms Tavern on Duke of Gloucester St.

Window display on Duke of Gloucester Street

Window display on Duke of Gloucester Street

By now, my feet are tired, I’m cold, and I have to pee, so I headed back to the hotel for quick pitstop.  I say “quick” because my day wasn’t over yet.  Christmas Town at Busch Gardens awaits…

Stay tuned for my thoughts on Christmas Town.

I’m on vacation this week – boy, did I need it!  It’s always so nice to get away from whatever is going on in your “regular” life – whether it’s for a day, a weekend, a week, or even longer (if you’re lucky).  I’ve taken a lot of vacations over the years, and I think I’ve picked up on a few things along the way that are true no matter where in the world you go.

Johnny Mercer Pier, Wrightsville Beach, NC

  1. The food tastes better on vacation.  I’ve been fortunate in my vacations:  I’ve visited a lot of amazing places and eaten a lot of fantastic meals.  I remember a terrific paella at a restaurant in Cinque Terre, Italy, and if you are ever in Paris, France, run – do not walk – to La Tour d’Argent.  You won’t regret it.  I remember delicious tagines in Marrakesh and yummy shwarmas from street vendors in Casablanca.  My point is that vacation food is always yummy – even when it’s not.  I think we are all so thrilled with being on vacation that our taste buds are amplified.  Great meals become phenomenal, good meals become great, and “meh” meals become good.  Yesterday, I mosied on down to the local hot dog establishment and had a North Carolina Trolly Dog.  This was a beef and pork hot dog smothered in chili, onions, and cole slaw.  It was delicious.  But I bet it wouldn’t have been as good at home in Washington, DC.
  2. You Eat Things You Normally Wouldn’t.  This goes along with #1.  There’s no time like vacation to try new cuisines.  I’m not a fan of seeing the legs and eyes of the shrimp I’m served – which is how it was served in Cinque Terre – but I ate ever bit of that paella.  And not just new cuisines.  Sometimes you eat things that you really dislike when you’re at home.  For example, as a general rule, I dislike red velvet cupcakes, but because they are here I’ll eat one (or two).
  3. Exercise becomes enjoyable.  What is it about being on vacation that makes exercise seem fun?  Is it just me?  Don’t get me wrong – I want to chill out and relax on vacation too.  But for some reason, I’m more committed to exercising when I’m away from home.  Am I afraid of packing on extra pounds?  I am eating some fantastic meals, after all.  Or does it just feel like you’re one of the “beautiful people” when you’re running on the beach?  I don’t know, but I guess my waistline appreciates it.
  4. It’s Bizarro World.  What do I mean by this?  I mean that on vacation, you’re more inclined to do things that you ordinarily would not do.  Obvious, right?  You’re on vacation; that means you’re not working, you’re not office droning or whatever.  But here’s what I really mean:  when I’m on vacation, I will walk or bike distances that I would only drive in my “real” life.  Yesterday, I strolled into “town” for lunch.  It wasn’t a super-long walk, but it was hot outside and I know for a fact that if I had been at home I would not have hesitated to hop in the car to get where I needed to go.  I also hopped on my bike to go to the farmer’s market.  Do you understand what this means?  I biked there – it was a good distance away, bought fresh fruits and vegetables that I had to carry home, and biked home.  And I loved it.
  5. No One Looks in the Mirror.  I have been to beaches in a lot of places around the world and I have learned that people are extremely confident and comfortable with their bodies.  I’m of two minds about this.  On the one hand, I think it’s fabulous.  People of all shapes and sizes are out and proud, enjoying the sun, sand and water.  Fantastic.  On the other hand, I kind of think that some of these folks need a reality check, right?  I mean, it’s true:  not everyone can be a supermodel.  I’m certainly not.  But sometimes I think a certain level of modesty is in order.  Like nobody wants to see a wrinkly old lady in a bikini, right?  But then again, if she feels okay in it, who are we to complain?  And it’s not just the beach is it?  We’ve all seen the tourist (probably American) wearing Bermuda shorts, white socks, and sandals.  Dude, please.  If you don’t know, ask.

Vacation is vacation is vacation, no matter where you go.  I suppose the important thing is to make sure you relax and enjoy – whether you’re on safari, lazing by the beach, or navigating a bustling city.  This one’s been so much fun I may need another to recover.  I’m open to recommendations…

I think a change of scene is always good.  Especially if the new scene leads to relaxation.  I’m on Day 4 of my week-long vacation on Virginia’s Eastern Shore.  As the distance between me and the DC area increased, I could feel the stress decrease.  Ah, bliss.  I’m staying with family in a lovely house on the water in Greenbackville, VA.  I can smell the salt water and feel the salt-laden ocean breeze that comes in from Chincoteague Bay.  On my first morning here, I stepped out onto the deck to find a low layer of fog, which created a bit of an optical illusion.  It seemed like our pier was floating in mid-air.

I’m using this vacation as my week to “get healthy.”  I’ve been biking in the mornings, working out in the pool with my sis, and (mostly) eating right!  I feel so great that I don’t even want to be snarky today!  Sorry folks.  🙂

Do I have to go back?


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