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Thursday, December 29, 2011

I Sea Christmas

I've spent many Christmas days at the beach.... but always in Hawaii.

This year, despite the fact that we were on long island, Mike still wanted to spend Christmas at the beach.





He was the ONLY person who got in the water.  But, he did a good job and even caught a wave!!

Besides being in the sea, Mike's Sicilian grandparents make traditional seafood christmas eve dinner.




Shrimps, Sea Urchin, and Baby Octopus!

Merry Christmas!

Monday, December 19, 2011

Amazon

We've all received this email:  "Dear Shaina Stahl, we thought you might be interested in the following items..."

Dear Amazon, NO.  I'm not interested in ANY of those items.  You have never ONCE sent me an item recommendation that I have EVER been interested in.

Amazon's problem is that people frequently use Amazon to buy gifts or novelty items.  Somehow, their service cannot seem to distinguish what might be a gift, what someone might actually be interested in, or what someone will buy once and never buy again.

No, Amazon, I don't want to buy a fake moustache.  I JUST BOUGHT 36 OF THEM FROM YOU LAST MONTH!  I'M GOOD FOR A MINUTE!

It is the season where I am reminded of why Amazon has such outlandish recommendations for me.  I sign up to buy christmas gifts for kids in need.  Last year I bought a little girl a barbie dreamhouse.  Amazon has been recommending barbie DVD's, figurines, and panties to me ever since.

The little note from Samantha said:

Dear Santa:
How are you doing?  My name is Samantha and I am 6 years old.  I'm asking if you can get me a dollhouse because I am a good girl.
Thank you,
Samantha

She even drew a picture of a "well-endowed Santa" probably hoping to boost his self esteem and make him want to buy her more presents:

This year, I had to buy toys for two brothers.

Dear Santa: My name is Justin.  I'm writing to you because I want some toys for christmas.  The present that I like spider man toys.  Thank you for read my letter.

Dear Santa: My name is Jeremiah, I like some presents from you for christmas.  I like spider man toys.  I like to much that toys.  Thank you very much for read my letter.

I ended up getting them each a spider man web shooter, spider man boots for Jeremiah and a backpack/ sleeping bag for Justin and they also each got some toys.



I just logged onto Amazon to buy some soap.  "Shaina, we think you might like...." and there it was.  A spiderman cape.  Yes, Amazon, I would like a spiderman cape, but really I'm here to buy a bar of Dial.

Friday, December 9, 2011

Egypt

An Emory Law student was sitting in his hostel room during his internship in the summer before his 3L year.  A group of men stepped into his room through the open door and placed handcuffs on him.  "Is this about the police report I filed last week?" he asked.  The men assured him that it was and that the handcuffs, blindfold, and large van with shades were standard procedure.  The student knew deep down that this was not true - the people he worked with at his internship had told him all too similar stories.  Having no clue that the next four months would culminate in his being traded for 25 men after extreme efforts by the president, ex-president, and countless others, he allowed the men to take him to jail.

That student is Ilan Grapel, and I got to meet him last night.

I frequently try to avoid places with names like "The Yale Club" but when Emory was hosting an event titled, "Hear from a law student imprisoned in Egypt," I knew I'd go.  The Yale Club actually had quite a lovely library.  Perhaps I'll become a member and take up squash and start "doing lunch."

After sitting down in the 5th row with no one sitting in front of me in the first four (it's like we were still in law school - cool kids all sit in the back), Ilan sat down at the table right in front of me.  I'm not sure what I was expecting, but he was just a cool normal kid.


I've never been face to face with someone who has been through this sort of imprisonment.  I don't think I've ever heard of it outside of movies (besides John McCain, of course).  I'm not sure why I expected someone who fought in the IDF and was wounded in Lebanon to cry like a baby and show extreme signs of PTSD.  I'm not sure why I expected tears and emotion.  I realize I thought it would be what I would have seen in the movies - something a bit too extreme.  But, even with that understanding, I was surprised at just how nonchalant Ilan was.

He began telling his story by setting the stage in his room in a hostel in Egypt.  "It was much worse than my jail cell," he began.  Nervous chuckles swept through the audience.  "No.  Really.  The hostel was horrible and disgusting."

He laughed as he described his first interrogation by the Egyptians who accused him of espionage.  He did not understand why he, a joint Israeli-American, who fought for the IDF, a wounded soldier, fluent in English, Hebrew, and Arabic, working for an NGO in Egypt, was thought to be a spy.  His best defense was that he openly carried his Israeli passport and that all information about him was freely available on facebook and the internet.  Would a spy do that?  Wouldn't a spy do that?  Either way it didn't seem to help him.

Neither did his public defender who apparently never said a word.  His hired private attorney did no better and sat through each interrogation taking sips of coffee and only speaking up at the very end saying, "you should let Ilan go."  The interrogator frequently laughed and let Ilan answer that question.  "I would miss your face too much," the interrogator would say.  Ilan took this as a compliment.

Ilan was kept in solitary confinement, sometimes going 2 weeks without being allowed to talk to a single person.  There was a guard present at all times but he was not allowed to speak to Ilan.  At first, Ilan was given nothing and then they decided to allow him 2 books every two weeks.

The first two books Ilan got didn't really help.  One was a book on homosexuality and the other a book put out by Israel that detailed what happened to previous Israelis who were captured and tortured.  I'm sure that was uplifting.  His mom finally began sending books and he received about 20% of them.  He also appealed to the law school to send him casebooks since the 2 book a week limit did not differentiate between a 20 page book or a 2000 page case law book.  Those books never made it through.

Obviously, solitary confinement for 4 months with a limited number of books was terrible.  Although he wasn't physically abused, Ilan mentioned that some activists are trying to include solitary confinement in International conventions on torture.  For some reason, he didn't mention adding reading for law school to the convention.  Go figure.

The Egyptians were very clear in their reasoning behind no physical harm - they wanted him to look good when they put him in front of the world.  They also fed him "very well."  In fact, they forced him to eat well threatening that if he did something stupid like a hunger strike that embarrassed them, he would regret it.  So Ilan sat, and waited, and ate, and read, and thought about what a nice solitary jail cell he had.  No one told him of the riots and killings between Egyptians and Israelis.  No one told him that Obama and Jimmy Carter were calling on his behalf.  No one told him that they were preparing a trade - One Ilan Grapel for 25 Egyptians.  He was under the impression that Israel didn't want those 25 prisoners anyway.  If you didn't want them, WHY are you holding them?!


All the stories about the still present Egyptian secret police brought back feelings of one of the scariest stories of my life.

I visited Egypt after a 2 week trip to Israel - arriving on El Al Israeli airlines.  After two days in Cairo, a friend and I decided to take the overnight train to Luxor to see some tombs.  Purchasing tickets took about 10 minutes but it took them about an hour to give us our passports back.  I didn't mind waiting in the train station because I was fascinated when, at 5pm, the station essentially stopped, laid down prayer mats, and began praying towards Mecca.

Waiting on the train platform late that evening, we were approached by a young woman.  She did not look like the other Egyptian woman we saw who almost always wore a head scarf.  She was wearing a tight-fitting sparkly top, had her hair curled, was wearing full makeup and high-heeled boots.  "Are you Americans?" She asked.  "Yeah."  We answered.  "I am a student studying English.  I like America, do you like Egypt?"

A student wanting to practice her English!  Yes, we understood.  The happened everywhere overseas.  We continued to answer her questions for a minute before she took out her cell phone.  "I like you, can I take a picture?" She asked.  I love being in pictures!  I darted over to my friend and smiled for the camera.  I noticed he looked away.

"Thank you!" She said and continued, "now one like this."  She then pointed her cell phone in front of each of our faces and took a head-on individual shot.  We continued to ask her questions but her English deteriorated almost immediately.  She seemed to lose interest in us and quickly moved on.

That was weird.  That was really weird.  OMG what was that?  I began to freak out as the train finally arrived.  Why did she do that?  Was she really interested in foreigners?  Looking around, the entire platform was filled with foreigners.  Thinking about it, much of Cairo had been filled with foreigners - we weren't the first Americans she'd seen and wouldn't be the last.  She certainly didn't want our picture because of how attractive we were...  Getting on the train, relief set in that if it was something weird, it was in Cairo and I was going to be in Luxor.  I slept well on the 12 hour train ride.  My friend, I later found out, did not sleep as well.

I awoke just after 5am - about an hour before we were scheduled to arrive.  It was still dark out and the train was moving slowly and stopping periodically.  During one stop, all of the lights turned off.  My immediate reaction was to open our cabin door to see what was happening in the hall.  My hand was immediately smacked as my friend slammed the door shut and double locked it.  Now we were sitting in the dark.  "But, shouldn't we see what..."  "SHHHHHH!"  So I shhhh'd.

The lights came on and we eventually pulled into Luxor on time.  Bleary-eyed, after fighting off some aggressive hostel owners, we finally arrived at a place along with another pair of traveling students.  There were only two rooms left.  Of course, we weren't even spending the night (or we would have found a hotel).  We were using the hostel as luggage storage for the day.  When the owner told us he had one room with an in-room bathroom for $8.50/night or one room with the public bathroom for $8.00/night, my friend and I sighed and sadly decided we would let the traveling pair who were actually going to be sleeping there have the nicer room with the private bath.  To our surprise, they REALLY wanted to save the 50 cents and were thrilled that we allowed them to have the cheaper room.

The room was awful.  I won't describe it because a picture is worth...

 


I just laid down to take a quick nap when my friend began to tell me his fears.  He had been up throughout the night as the train stopped in many deserted Egyptian cities between Cairo and Luxor.  He furiously checked his blackberry and found out that then President George W. Bush was arriving in Egypt that same day and there had been some protests.  In addition, American soldiers had been captured on the Syrian border with Israel.  It was not a good day for Americans in the middle east.  They had taken our passports for an hour while we bought our train tickets.  They knew we were American.  They had our picture taken by "tits mcgee" (as we affectionately called her).  They probably had pictures of all Americans on that train and during one of the stops in mid-country-Egypt, rebels were going to board the train and grab all the Americans based on the pictures and kill us on the night of Bush's arrival.  (Hence the shut door when the power went out).  It was an obvious plan.  Why didn't they grab us on this trip down?  Maybe they were waiting for the trip back.

Maybe we let our imagination run a little bit wild, but I was too scared to even stay in the hostel room.  It certainly looked like a good place to die.  I put on my head-scarf and sunglasses and went straight to the Egypt Air store to buy a plane ticket back to Cairo. No way was I getting back on the train just to get murdered.  Once we had tickets (for an hour long flight on an 80% empty 747), I was able to relax and enjoy the rest of Luxor.

I never found out any more information about what happened.  I told the story to others who had just listened to Ilan speak.  No one seemed surprised.


Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Guggenheim

I like art but I don't usually get art.  Strangely enough, it's usually the art that I don't get that I like the most.  Why?  I mean, anyone can draw a picture of a person or a house or flowers.  But what kind of crazy people think to take a toilet seat, smash it up into tiny pieces and then use it to make a mosaic of a dinner plate?  (OK, I just thought of that).

The Guggenheim always intrigued me as a place where they might show art that I found interesting.  If you've ever been to the museum, you know that it is a continuous, circular, winding path.  Generally, the special exhibits are on the walls and one can walk past them all in the spiral.  This weekend, they had a show by Maurizio Cattelan, who chose to leave all the walls blank.  Instead, he hung his art piece from the ceiling in the center of the room.

This art was wacky.  It was political, it was humorous, it was edgy...I didn't get it at all.  But, I LOVED IT!  Some of my favorite pieces that made me smile included:


The pope hit by a meteor


A bird on a bird on a cat on a dog on a donkey


A bird on a bird (the other kind of bird).

One of the more edgy and shocking pieces included an elephant in a white sheet

The entire exhibit had subtle details that made it really neat.  There was an elevator bank with a bird outside - the elevators actually opened and closed every five minutes.  There were men in business suits in coffins; there was Pinnochio; there was a large number of dead horses; there was a topless woman.

Here is the view from the top

If you want to know more, you'll just have to go see it!  Also, if you have any idea about the deep meaning of it all, feel free to let me know.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Sleep No More

I faced one of my deepest, darkest fears....seeing a 3 hour production of Shakespeare.

Ok, so it wasn't that I went to see a retelling of Shakespeare's MacBeth that scared me.  It wasn't the fact that it was 3 hours long.  It wasn't the fact that it was set in the 1930's.  It wasn't even the fact that it was in Chelsea.  And it certainly wasn't that it was all done through interpretive dance.

So, why was I so scared about seeing this production?  I thought there might be a possibility that I would find myself alone, trapped in a room, sitting in the dark.

If you're not intrigued, it's probably because you've already heard of the British theater company, Punchdrunk's, "Sleep No More."  What's been described by the New York Times as a "movable orgy," was not exactly that, although it was fascinating.

When purchasing tickets, all I knew about the show was that it was recommended by a friend who was immediately separated from her husband as the show began.  Her husband found himself completely alone in a giant 5 story warehouse.

**SPOILER ALERT**

If you're going to see the show and don't want to hear anything else about it, stop reading.  I'm probably gonna let stuff slip.  In fact, I'm gonna tell you everything.  Most people say they want to go in surprised.  So stop reading.

I, of course, was terrified and did not want to go in surprised.  I wanted to know every little detail about what was going to happen to me and then some.  Especially since I found out how the previously mentioned husband became separated from his wife.

There is a 1930's Jazz club as the staging area for this production.  Period-ly dressed cocktail waitresses serve absinthe shots and champagne as the guests of the "McKittrick Hotel" listen to performances on 1920's carbon microphones.  Small groups are called to enter the 5-story experience and asked to put on white masks, as shown in my picture.  All guests must wear these masks so the actors can be identified.  It becomes very creepy when large swarms of people wearing white masks are watching two men fight on a bar table.  More about that in a minute.

The group enters into an elevator and is told the rules of the show.  Besides wearing the mask at all times, guests are allowed to wander into any of the 100+ rooms throughout the warehouse.  Guests can open any drawers, read any papers, touch all objects, eat and drink all food, and must find their own way.  The elevator operator says one more thing as the doors open, "things are not always as they seem," the first guest steps off the elevator and the operator quickly shuts the door behind him and we continue ascending.  Fortunately, I knew that would happen.  That person who stepped off the elevator was my friend's husband.

One we got out of the elevator, clinging to a man in a mask that I could only hope was Mike, we began exploring what we quickly realized was a psychiatric ward.  The eerie music reminded me of a beating heart, but the ward was deserted.  There were hospital beds and doctor-y things (1930's style) but no people.  All of a sudden we found ourselves in a windy forest with completely dead trees.  We wandered for a while throughout the maze of trees, seeing a bobcat and a locked house.

Continuing to wander, we saw one actor chasing another.  We quickly ran after them and found ourselves in a tiny room with a closed door and about 6 other guests.  The men began to "question" each other - by interpretive dance.  (I mentioned the actors didn't speak and just danced, right)?  They swung the lamp on the ceiling at each other.  Demanding answers to a clearly important question.

As the door was opened, a woman rushed by and we found ourselves somehow quickly moved to a new room, watching two women drinking.  They, too, were clearly fighting about something important.  One poured the other a drink and then seemed to squeeze tears from her eyes into a vile.  Very weird stuff.

Leaving the floor via the staircase, we opened a door to the sounds of music and a show!  A performer was singing in the lounge, while many actors were watching.  Mike and I wandered over near the bar.  I poured myself a cup of tea near the couch.  It was cold.  I took a sip just to say that I did it, but thought it was a little gross.  All of a sudden, the singer took a break and the actors wandered over to the bar and demanded some information from the bartender.  Another cool over-the-bar dance and we realized that scene was over.

After a few more encounters, we found ourselves in one of the most exciting scenes ever.  Three witches and Macbeth (even though you couldn't tell by looking at them) began having a party (?)  The lights came down and strobe lights lit up the room.  All of a sudden there was a man with a full ram's head - horns and everything.  The catch was, other than that, he was completely naked.  One of the witches ripped off her top and all of them were flailing around.  I tried to follow the story, but, admittedly, it was difficult with that ram in the room.  Suddenly, the bald witch gave birth to a bloody baby.  I didn't recall this scene in the version of Macbeth that I read, but I didn't pay great attention in 10th grade English.  Perhaps I should have.

The finale really helped me put together who was Macbeth.  He was the one who was killed after all.  This was a pretty intense dance scene - 9 actors all moving in slow motion together.  I was impressed.  Don't miss this if you go see it.  Also, don't miss the rave.  And I missed the bathtub scene where Lady Macbeth washes off Macbeth's blood.

I'll leave you with my favorite scene.  A young man wakes up his pregnant girlfriend.  He chases her on top of a bookshelf - only three feet from the ceiling.  They twist and turn back and forth, at times literally crawling on the ceiling.  You find yourself smiling and thinking - what a lucky baby that will be.  Then you realize you're wearing a mask and look really creepy.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Vermont Part 2 - The Food Blog

If you haven't read the first Vermont post, you are probably the type of person who eats dessert first.  That's fine.  You'll enjoy all the food pictures I have to show you.  But, you really should go back and read it - just so you know where this food is coming from!

This post will detail 4 meals - one dinner and one breakfast in Brattleboro and one dinner and one breakfast in Manchester.  Bon Appetit!

Brattleboro Dinner


This. Was. One. Of. The. Best. Meals. Of. My. Life.

As we were searching on yelp for restaurant recommendations, we came across a restaurant that had 5 stars called T.J. Buckleys.  Assuming this was a beer and wings type of dive, we moved on.  Eventually, the 5 star rating by numerous reviewers made me curious enough to check it out.  It sounded unique so we made the last reservation of the night - 8pm for 2.



Arriving, we realized the restaurant was in an old trolley.  There were only 6 tables in the entire place, and the chef and owner was cooking right in front of the guests!  We enjoyed our bread and butter as well as the Vermont cheese tart with caponata and pate plate with pickles and apples.

A crisp salad came before our entrees.  

Entree 1 - Local rabbit wrapped in prosciutto and stuffed with bacon.

Entree #2 - Caramelized Scallops with braised pork belly and sherry


And onto dessert - Warm apricot tart with vanilla ice cream and a parfait with sweet corn ice cream and ginger ice cream.

 

Brattleboro Breakfast

After already being served cookies and hot cider


the Meadowlark Inn had a wonderful breakfast!  It began with a half grapefruit and apple streusel.


followed up by a choice of pumpkin spiced pancakes with warm Vermont maple syrup or eggs benedict.

We ate in the cute living room!




Manchester Dinner


Searching through things to do in Manchester, we found the Lonely Planet's #7 thing to do in all of New England was to eat at a Manchester restaurant, Bistro Henry.  While there were some "suspect" reviews on yelp, we tried it anyway and were not disappointed!

 

We began with lobster bisque and crab cakes.  The crab cakes were all crab - no filler - with a very spicy sauce!  We also had an artichoke, hummus, and feta platter but ate it before I took a picture :(

 

Our mains included duck breast and crispy duck leg and a seafood linguine in a tomato cream sauce.  The seafood included large scallops, a lobster claw, a crab claw, and multiple shrimps!

Sadly, I forgot to take a picture of our dessert as well - maple pecan pie with cranberry ice cream.  SO GOOD!

Manchester Breakfast


Enjoying our last B&B morning, we had a choice of eggs or something called cottage cakes.

eggs

Mike petting the dog

COTTAGE CAKES!

After eating these cottage cakes, Mike announced that he would never eat a pancake again.  Fortunately for us (and all of you) the recipe is easy and the Inn has it on their website: http://innatmanchester.com/welcome-to-the-inn-at-manchester/recipe-cottage-cakes/

Do yourself a favor and make these this weekend.

Happy eating!

Vermont 111111

It was 11/11/11.  You know where I've never been?  Vermont.  Fortunately, I live only 2 states away, which made a trip possible.  A trip to Vermont might make you think of hiking or cheese.  While we did both of those things (we definitely did cheese), the surprising aspect of Vermont was its food.  I've tried to avoid this evolving into a food blog.  So, to get that out of the way, check out Vermont part 2 for the foodie in you.

I wasn't sure we were going to make this trip.  We had talked about Vermont this weekend for the past couple of months but we've been traveling a lot.  I finally threw a fit about planning too much.  When Mike realized I expected him to plan our Vermont trip, he immediately, instead, began looking for plane tickets to Puerto Rico.  Of course, tickets to Puerto Rico with 3 days notice are not affordable for anyone.  When you type that search into Kayak, the computer just starts laughing at you.  Once he realized smaller Caribbean Islands had the same problem, as did Miami, he begrudgingly began to look for things to do in Vermont.

Fortunately, once the searching started, the planning became fun.  Who knew Vermont had so many awesome bed and breakfasts?  (everyone)?  Mike picked two cities in the south of Vermont and went with it.  We really lucked out and I would recommend this trip to anyone!

The itinerary in each city consisted of
-Breakfast
-Dinner
-Hike

Brattleboro


We arrived at the Meadowlark Inn in Brattleboro in the pitch black at 4:30 in the afternoon.  A property 1.5 miles from a main road, this Inn is not for anyone who has seen too many scary movies or who doesn't like to use their highbeams.  The Inn Keeper welcomed us into the cozy living room with hot apple cider and cookies, which I devoured.  Our room was a converted farm attic, so we had to duck under beams to get to the toilet, which only had a curtain covering it.  Somehow, it was the coziest, quaintest, farmiest room I had ever been in.  I loved it.



After having one of the top 5 meals of my life (seriously, read the next post), we fell asleep in our little loft, content with the best 11/11/11 ever.

Waking the next morning to an amazing breakfast (post #2), we were ready for some adventure!  People in Brattleboro, and Vermont in general, tend to give directions almost as bad as people in Hawaii.  Typical Hawaii directions: turn left by where the old McDonalds used to be and then take a right where there used to be a red balloon tied to the fence post.  While Vermontans don't require your knowledge of the area from long before you were ever there, they do use "miles" very liberally.  "Drive about a mile and you'll see a gate on your left, turn left and drive another couple miles and then take a right.  You can't miss it"  Really?  Because I think I can miss it.  I did miss it.  Every time.


While looking for an infamous "gate" about a mile from a mile down the road, we came across what we thought could be a path to a tree-lined lake.  We were told this lake was called the stream of consciousness and we couldn't wait to ponder at the pond.  We parked on the side of the road and cautiously began to make our way down a path.  We hadn't gone 50 feet before a truck with two men pulled up along side.  The men stared us down in our dark coats.  "You don't want to go back there dressed like that."  They said.  We looked at their full camo suits and trunk full of guns.  "Hunting season started today and this is private property."  We turned around and began to walk back to the car.  We were jogging by the time we reached the road.

Our next attempt at nature was much more successful.  We hiked Mt. Winnepoopooh or something like that.  We were told the hike was only about 45 minutes each way.  We either did not realize were were crawling up the mountain, or that person was a liar.  Nevertheless, our hike was filled with waterfalls, which were sometimes under our feet, crunchy Autumn leaves, and quiet.  I've never felt so secluded on a trail.

 
 

 

 


I promised you that we did cheese!  Leaving Brattleboro, we stopped at the Grafton Cheese Market and made ourselves sick on samples.

 



Embarassed, we'd say things to each other like, "I think I'll try this one," knowing that the woman behind the counter knew that we had already tried that exact one about 3 or 4 times.

Manchester


Manchester, VT is the home of Robert Todd Lincoln's home called Hildene.  We visited the property and got to see one of (Abraham) Lincoln's actual hats!!!

















This is me wearing it!


















This is Mike wearing it!  (I thought I did a better job taking this picture).

Also on the estate was a refurbished Pulman car.  These sleeper cars were one of the most luxurious methods of travel back in the day as many presidents traveled on the exact car I was standing in.  The 1920's version of "luxury" travel was basically converting a tight space where you sat all day into a bunked dormitory with beds smaller than current day twin size that included light curtains for privacy.  I'm sure Air Force One is pretty much the same nowadays.



The next day in Manchester (after an amazing dinner and breakfast - no joke, read blog #2), we planned the 5 mile drive up Mount Equinox.  When we got there, the road was closed because of black ice on the numerous hairpin turns of the drive.  Just as we were about to give up, we got the all clear and managed to be the first car of the day to drive up this steep mountain.

At the top we decided to do the hike to "lookout rock."  We hoped this meant a rock with a beautiful view rather than a place where we constantly needed to scream, "Lookout!  ROCK!"

We took another eerie and desolate path.  There was snow up on these peaks and the wind was whipping through the trees with a moaning and ominous hum.  Once again, all alone in the mountains, we came across a grave stone of a beloved dog who had been accidentally shot by a hunter in the 50's.  Oh yeah, his name was Mr. Barbo.



We also ran into a hiker who had walked all the way up the mountain.  We chatted as he ate his tuna fish and ketchup sandwich for lunch.  We surprisingly met a lot of nice, smart, and interesting people in Vermont.  It's almost as if the state has more to it than just hiking and cheddar.

 

 

 


As we descended down the mountain, we slowly realized that the "woodsy fire" smell was not a campfire in the woods - it was our breaks burning.  After making numerous stops on the 80 degree incline to allow our brakes to cool off, we finally were motivated to search for what the "B" gear meant on the prius.  It means low gear.  Who knew?  That helped us get to the bottom of the hill without dying in a brake pad fire.

As we drove home, we could not stop going over all the awesome experiences Vermont had to offer.  We will definitely be back... probably as soon as we run out of cheese.