Well, good morning, St. Louis. It is very nice to see you in the daylight after having only glimpsed you through my bleary and weary eyes at midnight last night. Forgive me, for not giving much of a look but after my drive all I longed for was my nice, comfy, pillowy down-feathered bed complete with four extra pillows.
So, this morning it’s time for some appreciation. And today also has some significance because sadly it is the last day of our epic coast-to-coast road trip...Tomorrow morning, we jet back to NC just in time for Saturday night dinner with the rest of the family.
This morning deserves some reverence....
Ok enough! Time for the sights. We are in St. Louis, so we must check out the Arch...the gateway to the West. After my trip, I do actually question this because this doesn’t really feel “West.” I mean as far as I’m concerned as soon as I crossed back into this state, I was East again. Very, very East...
The Arch is just as big, if not bigger than you imagine. Walking up to it, I have to stop and be very touristy and stare up. If I were in New York City, people would be pushing past me like crazy, but thankfully in this city, people are much kinder and allow me to stare UP. The closer we get, the more overwhelmed I become at this object’s vastness. I mean: WOW! The optical illusion question throws my mom.
“Is it higher or wider, mom?” I turn back and ask her.
“Higher! No, wait, wider!!! Yes, wider...well, actually wait...Higher. It’s higher. Actually I don’t know and...doesn’t really matter???” She looks at me like my question is pointless and then points out at the people sleeping under the arch. There are quite a few people sleeping under the trees away from the boiling hot sun. WHEW is it hot here. It’s only 11am and it is piping hot here. Oh, and to answer the question - it is the same width as it is height. So, Momma, when you read this: the height and width are the same. Thank you architects for giving us a topic for conversation this morning.
We approach and begin snapping as many pictures as we possibly can; however, from this proximity, there is no way to get the whole arch in - it is just tooooo big! So, I attempt to be artistic and turn this way and that way and try to take in every angle that I possibly can. If a traveler dares, he can take an elevator to the top center of the arch. I really, really want to, but the line is jutting out of the underground entrance and up the ramp. Today a line is going to prevent me, but one day I shall return and venture toward the top. We are driving to Nashville later today to meet friends for dinner, so we must be very wise with our time. So after looking longingly up, we turn and head back to the hotel to grab our bags and head to the Little Italy area to have lunch. Little Italy thrives with culture and personality and overruns with countless Italian (of course) restaurants. I came over here to eat one thing and one thing only: toasted ravioli. Ravioli is one thing, but toasting it is another...Imagine taking that beautiful light pocket of pasta goodness filled with all kinds of yummy cheeses and then dropping it into some hot oil. Yes, picture it. Now Imagine dunking that toasted pocket into some marinara sauce!! Heavenly. But now let me tell you about something even more heavenly.
Allow me to introduce you to my little friend, Ted Drewes! He comes by special recommendation from Bobby Flay - yes, the Bobby Flay. Infamous for frozen yogurt, Ted Drewes dominates the St. Louis area with its creamy deliciousness. The place only offers walk-up service in it's tiny red and white shack. But these people know their stuff. From their base of vanilla flavor custard, you pick and add almost in flavor your heart or palette for that matter can imagine. They take you flavors, throw them in the blender and give it a whirl and out comes their signature concretes. Bobby recommends a combination of oreo, caramel, and heath bar. Being he hails as a world class chef, I take his recommendation and try this fabulous concoction! And yes, heavenly! Creamy, sweet, crunchy, the combination just melts in the mouth - literally. Remember how hot I mentioned it was earlier? Yes, well the heat doesn't exactly work well with cold custard. Immediately upon receiving my cup, I notice the sun begins to immediately work its magic and the concrete becomes a mudslide and then it becomes a river. I am racing the sun for custard. No one wants warm custard! We want cold custard! Me against the sun!Nashville calls us again. We are ending our trip just where we began it. We have now made a complete loop, from north to south. We crossed the desert and we journeyed back through the mountains and what a glorious journey it has been. Tonight in Nashville, we decide to do something extra special - line dancing. We are throwing on some boots and buttoning up some plaid and planning to go out and do the lines. Step by step we are going to dance our trip away. Wild Horse Saloon is considered one of downtown Nashville's top tourist attractions. And yes, I am opposed to touristy things, but there is a time and a place and tonight just so happens to be that night. If you ever visit Nashville, you must pull on the boots, and do a step or two. The Wild Horse Saloon pumps with energy! The house band just covers country songs, but when they shut off, the dj turns on some tunes and a young lady jumps up on stage and begins telling everyone which way to go. We learn how to do the catfish, and by the tenth time, I think I have it down. Our Nashvegas friends meet us, and Debbie actually dances with me. Everyone else is chicken.
Of course, it is terrible for me to call them chicken after everything we have been through together. We've crossed the USA for goodness sakes! That is no small fete! I have no right to call anyone chicken!
But who cares about name calling...I'm dancing, and having a dang good time!
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