Sunday is here. We're excited to welcome our second year of marriage but we're also trying to avoid one inconvenient truth. We're leaving fantasy land and submitting to the gravitational pull of our regular life: e-mail, deadlines, and stress. We temper the sadness by knowing Jake is waiting for us on the other side. He makes it worth it.
Before we go, we'll enjoy as much as we can, one last time. Breakfast at LPL is magical. We're served on the large veranda overlooking the lake (of course overlooking the lake, everything is situated to take advantage of it's serenity). As hard as we try to avoid the pastries, the still warm croissants beckon to our cravings. For the second day in a row, I order the eggs benedict and wifey, two eggs over easy. This is the first EB that I've ever raved about that used ham instead of Canadian bacon.
After spelunking around the main lodge one last time, we're returning to our suite to breath in the fresh mountain air and begin packing. We agree that the suite is probably too big for our summer needs; we spent all of our time in the bedroom and on the patio (and very little time in the living room). If we come back by ourselves, next time, we'll downsize. If we bring Jake along, then we're limited to the larger (but cheaper) lakeside cabins - not to mention that we'll need to find a new motivation for returning home. We're also laughing about the fireplace/smoke ordeal from Friday night. Mental note, turn on the chimney fan before lighting either fireplace. We jest about our round of putt-putt on Saturday afternoon. She won, so I change the subject.
Before we go, we'll enjoy as much as we can, one last time. Breakfast at LPL is magical. We're served on the large veranda overlooking the lake (of course overlooking the lake, everything is situated to take advantage of it's serenity). As hard as we try to avoid the pastries, the still warm croissants beckon to our cravings. For the second day in a row, I order the eggs benedict and wifey, two eggs over easy. This is the first EB that I've ever raved about that used ham instead of Canadian bacon.
After spelunking around the main lodge one last time, we're returning to our suite to breath in the fresh mountain air and begin packing. We agree that the suite is probably too big for our summer needs; we spent all of our time in the bedroom and on the patio (and very little time in the living room). If we come back by ourselves, next time, we'll downsize. If we bring Jake along, then we're limited to the larger (but cheaper) lakeside cabins - not to mention that we'll need to find a new motivation for returning home. We're also laughing about the fireplace/smoke ordeal from Friday night. Mental note, turn on the chimney fan before lighting either fireplace. We jest about our round of putt-putt on Saturday afternoon. She won, so I change the subject.
We finally make our way to the gift shop and down the road. On the way out of town, we're making one final stop at the 1980 Olympic Center, home of the greatest sporting event of all time, The Miracle on Ice. Once on the inside, it doesn't feel like a lot has changed in either of the two hockey rinks encased in the sprawling structure. The 1932 rink looks very unassuming. And the 1980 rink...well...it's hard to believe that I'm standing in the building where a handful of young amateur hockey players lived a dream. In case any guest has trouble recalling the final second of the game and the 'Do you believe in miracles!?' voiceover, the came is on replay in the onsite museum.
We've decided to take a different route home throughout VT and NH. We came around a turn and, to both of our surprise, we were being stopped at a border patrol checkpoint. The officers weren't messing around either. They even questioned why we were taking the less direct route to Boston (answer: to go through Woodstock along the way). What really got us was the German Shepherd that jumped up onto Ali's open window to sniff the cabin for drugs. After a bit more harassment, we were on our way. Apparently, NY Route 9 is a road frequently used for drug trafficking. Wood stock wasn't that nice...we're skipping that section of NY (and VT/NH) next time.
We're home now and looking through the Relais & Chateaux catalog of romantic hotel chains. It looks like we've found ourselves a bucket list! My only complaint about LPL is that 1) there's no place for carrots, celery, and the sort in a crab cake and 2) lump crab meat, LUMP.
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