Big Guy on a Bicycle: Travelogue

Vacation Day Four - The Links

Sun, 23 Jul 2006 20:09:01 GMT

Once, long ago (eight years ago, to be precise), Mrs. Guy and I traveled to Scotland with my parents for a week. One of the many places we went that week was St. Andrews to see, among other things, the Old Course, which is fabled to be the birthplace of golf. We even played eighteen, but in the interest of full disclosure I should point out that the eighteen we played were on the little practice green area – but they do give official scorecards out for it and everything.

Once, not quite so long ago (four or five years ago), Mrs. Guy and I traveled to Scotland with our friends Kelly and Kevin. Kevin doesn’t like to fly. Saying that Kevin doesn’t like to fly is like saying that President Bush and Saddam Hussein are not exactly best of friends - it just doesn't quite capture the real emotional substance. The only way we got Kevin on the plane to Scotland was with the promise of golf, and even then he was white-knuckle the whole way on the plane (and all the way back). We stayed near Inverness, but one morning I got up at 2:00 am so I could drive us all (while they slept) to St. Andrews with the hope that Kevin might get to play the Old Course (it wasn’t a sure thing). Kevin signed up on the stand-by list (which is for single players to wait and see if a twosome or threesome might allow them to go with them) at 5:15 am and didn’t get on until sometime after 2:30 pm that afternoon (but at least he got on). That was one of four courses Kevin played that week, but the one that meant the most to him.

Once, not long ago at all (just a few weeks ago), Mrs. Guy and I traveled to Scotland with her Step-mom and her two half-sisters (I joke that I have one complete sister-in-law). We traveled around the countryside seeing all sorts of things, but there was one place in particular that we had to go at all costs. I think you might be able to guess by now where I’m talking about. This trip had been in the planning stages for years, ever since soon after Mrs. Guy’s father died. He was a big golfer, and had expressed interest in going to St. Andrews one day, though he never got there. Instead, his wife and daughters all went on July 4^th of 2006 in part to honor his memory. Mrs. Guy and I have been to Scotland thrice now, and the only place we've visited each time is St. Andrews.

We dragged everyone out of bed early to begin the trip from Edinburgh. As always, I drove while various passengers slept. I’m getting used to that. We arrived at St. Andrews around mid-morning and parked near the Old Course clubhouse. From there we wandered over to the castle ruins, and then to the cathedral ruins. It was there, at the top of St. Rule’s tower, that the ‘small world effect’ took over and we ran into the guy who’d been sitting on the airplane behind me on the way from Atlanta. He was with there friends and was waiting for his tee-time at the Old Course (which they’d made about a year ago).

We then went and found a lunch spot serving ‘American-ish’ food, which pleased the girls. I think that we might have gone there with my parents, as well, though I can’t be sure. After lunch we split up so Mrs. Guy and I could go look for specific locations while the Three just wandered about (and looked for a Starbucks for E.). It took a while, but I found a small record store. They, of course, had never heard of Gum (the band who’s CDs I was looking for. Strike Two.

We met back up to walk back over to the Old Course and just happened to go past a small pub that had red, white and blue banners out in front. They were advertising Bar-B-Que, Budweiser beer, various other ‘American’ cuisine, and of course Willie Nelson music all day. No, I didn’t stop in.

The Old Course at St. Andrews is a bit interesting. Each of the holes share a fairway with another hole. As you work your way out you go to a turn around point and then come back the same way. Thus, the First and Eighteenth share a fairway, as do the Second and Seventeenth, et cetera out to the Ninth and Tenth at the turn. In the middle of the First/Eighteenth is perhaps the most photographed bridge in the world, the Swilken Burn Bridge (though it’s really more on the Eighteenth tee side of the fairway). Since the area is considered public grounds, golfers sometimes have to play around (or over) tourists. The bridge is where Mrs. Guy and the Three wanted to go to say a prayer for Mrs. Guy’s father, and we were lucky enough that there was enough of a lull in play that we could go out to the bridge without being in anyone’s way for a while.

I took photos of all of them with each of the various and sundry cameras we had with us (four, I think) and then walked over toward the First tee to give the four of them some space. The ‘small world effect’ took over again and I met the guy from the plane/St. Rule’s again walking down the First tee side. His foursome had already hit from the tees and if I may say so had hit very well. I stood there and talked to them while I was waiting for the others and while they were waiting for the green to clear. Nice guys. Mrs. Guy did make it over to say ‘Hello’ again before they started playing again.

We left St. Andrews and drove directly back to the flat in Edinburgh so we’d have time to clean up before 6:30 pm, which was when our hosts had invited us up for drinks and finger food to celebrate the 4^th. As it turns out, they have two direct ties to the States. Paul, our host, was a Fullbright Exchange teacher in the early ‘80s and had spent his year in Boston with his wife, Juliet, and their daughter. Sophie, their daughter, had recently returned from attending the University of California – Santa Barbara, and had brought her boyfriend (fiancée?) back to the UK with her for the summer before they both start working in California. Thus, our hosts were well qualified to know how to help celebrate the 4^th of July in fine fashion. We had a wonderful time, even the teenagers, getting to know them all and finding just how much we all had in common.

Still, we decided we were hungry enough afterward to go out and get something small, so we when to a take-away (‘take out’) place for fish and chips. I had a Coke to go with it. What could be more American than that?

End of Day Four

New Music / Vacation Day Three

Thu, 20 Jul 2006 01:05:29 GMT

There's a new song playing here on my page tonight. I have typically only featured local artists on this page, but you could say that this new group is local to where I was while on vacation. The band is called Gum, and they are from Glasgow in Scotland. The one thing I wanted to buy on this trip to Scotland was the band's CDs (ever since they were featured on Tartanpodcast #81 back in March). In and throughout my travelogue you will read some of my general experience with that quest. Anyway, enjoy the music (I got special permission to feature it here).

Well, there we were on the morning of July 3rd in our lovely little flat in Edinburgh, and we really couldn't say that we'd seen much of Edinburgh at all (at least not with the extended family - Mrs. Guy and I had visited briefly eight years before). With that in mind, we decided that Monday July 3rd would officially be Edinburgh exploration day.

The night before we had been talking to Paul, our host, and he mentioned that there was a castle not a mile away from the house. Well, that was just too intriguing to pass up, so we left, on foot (sorry girls, but we told you too bring sensible shoes instead of sandals that morning). Sure enough, one mile of easy walking later, we were beckoning at the gates of Craigmiller Castle right at 9:00 am, when they were supposed to be open. Ten minutes later a girl arrives in her Mazda MX-5 (What we'd call a Miata) to unlock the gates.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to Craigmiller Castle," she said. "Please keep in mind next time that we don't open until 9:00 am."

At that point I, along with about five other people from various groups, looked at my watch to confirm that it was, indeed, ten after. I might have said something, but she jumped in her car and took off without charging us the visit fee, so I figured it best to let sleeping dogs lie. The castle was a treat, though. H. really enjoyed it (as most 14-year-olds might). Not in bad shape considering it had no roof and had been abandoned for at least a century.

We walked back to the flat, grabbed better footwear for certain members of our party, and drove into the heart of Edinburgh to the Royal Mile. At the top of the Royal Mile is Edinburgh Castle, which is still used in part by the military, though most of it is open to tourists. We took the tour so the other three (maybe I'll just refer to them collectively as "The Three" from her on out) could get the history. Mrs. Guy and I made sure that we also revisted the small cemetary in the castle grounds where soldiers' pets are buried (I think that's her favorite part of the castle).

We left The Three after the castle so they could wander down the Royal Mile at their own pace and we could wander at ours. I took the opportunity to look for a small music shop I remembered seeing eight years ago. I was able to find it (right where I'd left it), and went in to see if they had the Gum discs. They didn't, but I decided that wasn't surprising since most of the discs I saw there were rather, um..., well, the tamest stuff I saw was pretty harsh punk. The hoodlum, uh, I mean 'person' behind the counter said he'd never heard of them, and looked rather relieved to see me leave. I guess I wasn't 'hard-core' enough for him.

Mrs. Guy and I didn't get to visit Holyroodhouse Palace the last time we were in Edinburgh, and as it turned out, we didn't get to go this time either. Holyroodhouse is at the bottom end of the Royal Mile, and it seems they were getting ready for someone royal to visit. The Queen, in fact. She was due to visit, so all us commoners were barred from entry. Oh, well. I at least got to soften the blow by taking pleasure in counting the number of Starbucks on the Royal Mile (Two, but there may be a couple more by now).

We spent the rest of the time before meeting up with The Three stopping into interesting-looking shops. We didn't end up buying much, except that I did get the nice polo shirt I'm wearing now (with a 'Scotland' thistle logo on it). We met the Three at about 4:30pm near the center of the Royal Mile and decided to stick together until dinner, which ended up being at an Italian restaurant just up the street one block. (We figured the girls would like some Italian food by then).

That was about it, so we headed back to the flat to decide on what to do for the 4th. When we got there, we found a slip of paper under the door of the flat from our hostess, Juliett. She wanted to invite us up on the next evening for drinks to celebrate the 4th! Well, we would certainly have to plan around that, wouldn't we?

End of Day Three

Lazy Sunday / Vacation Day Two

Sun, 16 Jul 2006 21:53:44 GMT

First of all, let me give a shout out to my brother dwcrx on his birthday. Happy Birthday, Brother D. I hope you get to spend it well.

She-Mom showed up yesterday to spend the evening with us. She left earlier today to head back home. Why come for such a short visit? Well, I guess because it's the closest she'll get to come to being here on her daughter's birthday. That's right, Mrs. Guy's birthday is tomorrow, just one day different from my brother's. So don't expect a long post tomorrow.

We went out to dinner at a restaurant downtown that She-Mom hadn't been to before and then came home for dessert of Chocolate Guinness Cake. Yummm.

This morning I got up and watched Tour coverage and then fell asleep on the sofa. They let me sleep until almost 2:30 pm, which was a lot longer than I'd intended, but I probably needed it. I'd hoped to get out on the bike early today before the heat really hit, but now maybe I'll go in another couple of hours after the temp drops back under 90 degrees. I need to go feed cats for some friends who went out of town, so maybe I can ride there and back.

Vacation Day Two

Well, I was surprised that we were able to get everyone up on Sunday morning without resorting to buckets of cold water, but everyone eventually got out of bed and ready to leave the flat for the day. We left the flat and headed west to Stirling.

Stirling is a little north and east of Glasgow, and is home to a couple of prime tourist sites. First we headed to Stirling Castle which is situated on top of a major hill. I parked in the first open spot I could find as we approached the castle, which worked out well since it was free (didn't have to feed the meter on Sunday) and only a short walk from the main parking lot, which cost 3 GBP (Great Britain Pounds - I don't have the little symbol for Pounds on my keyboard).

Mrs. Guy and I had been to Stirling Castle before. We'd travelled to Scotland with my parents eight years ago and stayed only about 20 miles from there. They were doing restoration then and are still doing restoration now, but it has improved remarkably - not that it was a bad tour even eight years ago. I won't go into the history of the castle, so you can look that up yourselves if you are interested. (But I will say that Mary Queen of Scots was crowned there.)

We ate lunch at the castle (you'd be surprised how many tourist areas have their own cafe, and most of them quite good) and then drove over to the Wallace Monument, which is something else Mrs. Guy and I had seen before (but of course the others hadn't). The Wallace Monument, built in honor of William Wallace (of course), is a rather tall structure with only a tight spiral stair leading up to the top. Two hundred and forty six steps in all. I didn't count them, but H. did. The view from the top is spectacular, and would have been moreso on a clear day (which we had eight years ago). We did get some light rain while at the top, but that's to be expected in Scotland.

Eight years ago, someone had told my parents before we went that we had to try a little restaurant called the Brig O'Turk Tea Room. It's in a rather remote location, but it was excellent. To this day Mrs. Guy still raves about the best dessert she ever had and the astonishing fact that it didn't even have chocolate in it. That was at the BO'T Tea Room. However, when we decided to drop in to see if we could get a table, we found that they were closed. They still looked to be in business, just not open that night. "And then, depression set in" - Bill Murray, "Stripes"

At that point we decided that we'd try to get something in Callander. I remember Callander fondly. That's where I ordered my kilt eight years ago. Yes, I have a kilt. You just can't really attend a Burn's Night without one. It's good to have one at Highland Games as well, and I've even been asked to wear it while in a wedding a few years ago. No, I don't wear it on the bike - ever.

So we ate at a little cafe, stopped by a wine store for a bottle of some white wine, and drove back to the flat in Edinburgh. Having done all that, I walked around in the gardens there at the house and took a few pictures, and then I watched a movie on ITV4 with H. and E. (the sixteen year old). Then, we crashed.

End of Day Two

Am I Blue? / Vacation Day One

Sat, 15 Jul 2006 21:36:20 GMT

I got to do something today that I'd never done before. I went and picked blueberries. Now I can say I've done it.

Jeff S. asked a bunch of people from our Sunday School class to come out and help pick this morning. The berries are going to be sold and the proceeds put into the Hunger Helper program down at the church. There were only six or seven of us that could make it this morning, plus a few other folks as well. I think we'd picked about eight or nine gallons of them in the two hours that we were there.

I almost rode my bike over this morning. The place we were was only six or eight miles from my house. As soon as I got to the place I was glad I hadn't ridden. The driveway was all very loose gravel and not in any condition for bicycles, and it would have been a long walk down it to where the bushes were.

So I can cross blueberry picking off of the list of things I've never done. Maybe being a multimillion dollar lottery winner can be the next one?

I don't know if I ever mentioned just where Mrs. Guy and I (and her step-mom and half-sisters) went on our vacation. You'll learn today.

Mrs. Guy and I flew into Atlanta from Knoxville on June 30th. The other three flew in from Charleston, SC and met us there. Then we all boarded a flight to Edinburgh. It was a seven or eight hour flight, and with the time zone changes we landed at about 9:30 am local time. By the time we cleared immigration/customs, got our luggage, got a rental car, got the five of us and our luggage into said rental car, and left the Edinburgh Airport it was closer to noon.

We had arranged to rent a flat in Edinburgh a little way out from the city center, so we headed there first. Check-in time was normally 4:00 pm, but the owner had called us before we left to work out how to get the keys (she had to go to a work-related function that day), and had said we could go ahead and drop our luggage. That was a big help, since some of it was on laps in the car.

The flat was the bottom floor of a beautiful old house (old as in built in 1636). The owners lived on the second floor and part of the third, and they had a long-term leasee in the other part of the third floor. I'll try to post a photo of it later.

From previous experience, Mrs. Guy and I know that it's best to go ahead and stay awake instead of crashing in the middle of the day once there (it helps limit the effects of jet-lag), so we drove from Edinburgh down to the Roslin Chapel. Anyone who has read 'The Da Vinci Code' or seen the movie will recognise Roslin Chapel. I took a lot of photos, and again will post them sometime later. I looked around for the Holy Grail, but they must not have had it out that day, I guess.

From there we went and got lunch at a nearby pub/restaurant, and then drove back to a supermarket that we'd passed on the way down to the Chapel. We picked up enough stuff for breakfast for several days and a few small snack items. Then we drove back to the flat and discovered there that H. (Mrs. Guy's 14 yr. old half-sister) and I would actually be able to catch World Cup coverage after all (we'd feared we wouldn't have access to a television, but there was one in the flat). Too bad England lost.

Then, finally, at about 10 pm local time, we crashed out for the night. Hard.

End of Day One

Blue Ridge Wine Festival, Day Two

Tue, 11 Apr 2006 01:18:06 GMT

Mrs. Guy and I woke up to a gray and overcast day in Blowing Rock on Saturday. A quick look out the window showed that it had been raining, but wasn’t raining at the time. Various forecasts for the day gave no consensus, so we just shrugged our shoulders and moved on. Breakfast was included in our room rate, so we had the buffet at the Manor House Restaurant, which sounds more impressive than it is, but it was still OK.

Our original plan was to be at the day’s major event, the Wine Tasting, soon after it opened at 10:00am. We figured that would be a good way to beat the inevitable crowds that would arrive later in the day (the Wine Tasting went from 10:00 am until 6:00 pm). However, after breakfast Mrs. Guy decided to go workout on the hotel treadmill, which I knew would push us later than 10:00 am. I decided to use that time to write the blog entry that I posted later on Saturday and to read some more in one of my books.

Mrs. Guy came back from her workout and showered while I was finishing up a chapter of “The Masked Rider”. After she was ready we walked over to the Wine Tasting tent which was on the grounds of our hotel.

Wine Festival Lesson One: Try to stay within walking distance of the Tasting event, if not at the same hotel where the event is held. Leaving the car parked all day is a good thing.

We started out at the first of the fourteen wineries (supposed to be fifteen, but one didn’t show), which was Childress Winery. We held our glasses up to the lady working the booth and she poured from one of their reds…way too much. Mrs. Guy looked at me with that “Uh-oh” look and whispered in my ear “If they all pour like this, we could be in trouble. As it turned out, most of the other wineries were measuring the pours more carefully, but we decided we would just share our tastings from the same glass for the rest of our stay at Childress.

Lesson Two: Generous pouring is not really a good thing at a tasting event. You have to pace yourself if you want to still be standing by the time you make it all the way through.

Next we hopped over to Chatham Hill, where the fellow working the booth was more reasonable with his pours. Biltmore Estates was next, where we reacquainted ourselves with the same fellow who had been presenting at the Wine Dinner the night before. We had decided early on that we would keep a list of our favorites wines to go back and purchase, but the Biltmore booth didn’t actually have any to sell (deciding not to take business away from their local vendors, I guess).

And then we got to RayLen Winery. They had six wines, so Mrs. Guy started taking notes. The first was a Pinot Grigio. “Hmm. That’s OK, but not as good as others I’ve had.” Next was a Barrel Chardonnay. “Mmm, that’s pretty good. Mark that one.” Then we tried the Viogner. “Mmm. That one’s good too. Put a mark by it as well.” The reds were next, starting with the Carolinius. “Mmm. Mark it.” Then the Cabernet Franc. “Mark it, mark it.” Last was their signature wine, the Category 5. “Mmm. OK, we might as well go ahead and get a case started.” We bought some of everything except the Pinot Grigio, and got extra bottles of the Viogner and the Carolinius for She-Mom.

Lesson Three: Be prepared to go ahead and buy something great if you run across it. I’d hate to think I might have waited too long and they’d sold out (which they ultimately did). Also, take care of your dog-sitter, too.

That was four down, with a case in hand, so we decided to take a break. I took the case and put it in the trunk of the car, while Mrs. Guy went back and bought two bottles we’d noted from Childress; their Starboard Port. Now, who get’s the pun there? I did, but apparently the booth workers did not based on their blank stares as I chuckled about the name. “Pretty good pun,” I said, as they simply replied “Um, yeah…OK.” I talked to their head winemaker later on. He’d named it that way on purpose, and agreed that he should clue his staff in on it.

Lesson Four: Taking a break should be part of your plan from the beginning.

Lesson Five: There are people out there who won’t see what’s right in front of their face everyday even if you wave it around going “Look, look.”

Back at the room we took a short break, and I read some more while Mrs. Guy checked the Weather Channel. About 30 minutes later we decided to go on back over. We checked out two more wineries (Rockhill and RagApple Lassie), and bought a couple of additional bottles before deciding to take a lunch break. There was finger food at several locations around the tent, but we needed something more. We dropped off the bottles at the room and headed over to the shuttle bus stop, which was taking people up to the Main Street shopping area and also to parking lots further out. On the way we saw the couple we’d eaten with the night before (Kevin and Sherrie) walking up, and shared our notes to that point with them. Then onto the bus and up to Main Street.

Lesson Six: If the event organizers offer free transportation, take them up on it (this goes along with Lesson One).

Mrs. Guy wanted to stop by a kitchen shop and get some new utensils for herself and She-Mom. We also stopped at the Vera Bradley luggage place next door. I didn’t say anything, but I was relieved when she didn’t buy the $300 piece she was looking at. We went upstairs to check out The Upstairs Gallery (what else would they call it?). Then we walked over to the Storie Street Grille.

Storie Street Grille is Mrs. Guy’s favorite Blowing Rock eatery. We weren’t there for lunch, though. She just wanted to get a dinner reservation. They usually don’t take reservations for less than five (just call ahead seating for less), but she pleaded with them and talked them into it, making a 7:30 pm reservation. We ended up back at the Exxon station’s deli for lunch, which we took back to the bus stop to wait.

The bus was supposed to run every 20 minutes, and I had been watching for it while we were getting our lunch without seeing it. We got to the stop and waited with a growing crowd of people for at least another 20 minutes. When it did arrive, it was packed full. We kept thinking people would be getting off, but only a handful did. Mrs. Guy and I got on, and were lucky enough to even get seats, but not everyone did. We broke out our lunch while the bus finally got moving. We went to the first parking area. Only a few got off, and not everyone waiting could get on. We went to the second parking area. A few more got off than before, but there still wasn’t room for the waiting throng. The next stop was back at the event site, where just about everyone got off of the bus. What I want to know is this: not that many people ever got off of the bus at any one place – did some people just get on at the event site to ride it around the loop for a half-hour? I looked at my watch. If we’d just walked from the Exxon (which I did suggest), we’d have been back a lot sooner.

Lesson Seven: It’s best to trust the Big Guy’s instincts. Never question the Engineer.

After stopping at the room to get our wine glasses, we rejoined the crowd in the tent. It had grown dramatically. I caught sight of Kevin from across the room, but it was over fifteen minutes before we caught up with him.

Most of the remaining wineries boasted fairly sweet fare (which I’d known from their lists of wines to be available in the Festival guide). We made our way around trying a few here and there, but I think I’m well past the point where I enjoy raspberry/strawberry/blackberry/ boysenberry/chuckberry/frankenberry/blueberry wines. I’d been saving one particular winery for last, though, as I’d been expecting great things from them based on things I’d heard.

As you might guess, I was disappointed. So much so that I am not going to name that winery here. There are others who really liked what they had to offer, and to be fair, perhaps I’d just tried way too many different wines to be subjective at that point, but perhaps not. Actually, I know not, since I revisited RayLen and found their wines to be just as impressive as I had hours before.

Lesson Eight: Don’t get your hopes up too much based on hype.

We called it a day and headed back to the car and the room with the last of the bottles we decided to get on the way out. It was about 5:30 pm, and we both decided that I short nap would be a good thing. I thought that I saw Mrs. Guy set an alarm.

We woke up some time later. Actually, she woke me up with “What time is it?” “Uuh, it’s, uh, 7:35 pm.” “7:35?!? We’re late!!!”

I jumped up and looked outside with the nagging feeling that I’d read my watch wrong. It was too dark out. I looked again. 21:35. Right. That’s 7:35 pm. We’re not that… Wait. 21:35? That’s 9:35 pm! OK, 9:36 pm now. Oops. I guess we were more tired than we'd realized.

Lesson Nine: Maybe I should switch my watch back off of the 24 hour clock setting. Not that it made a difference.

We set records for getting changed and out the door, hoping to get there before they stopped serving. I suggested we call, but Mrs. Guy didn’t want to waste the time. We drove up to the Storie Street Grille at 9:48 pm, which was 18 minutes after they stopped seating people for dinner. Sigh.

We ended up eating at Six Pence, the English Pub up the street, where Mrs. Guy had the Shepherd’s Pie and I had a Turkey Reuben while we figuratively kicked ourselves for missing the reservation that she had begged for.

Lesson Ten: If you make a special reservation, and you decide to take a nap, don’t assume that your SO has set an alarm – do it yourself.

Blue Ridge Wine Festival, Day One

Sun, 09 Apr 2006 02:58:46 GMT

Actually, that’s not entirely accurate. Day One was Thursday, really, since they had a special Reserve Tasting that evening, but since Mrs. Guy and I didn’t go up to Blowing Rock until Friday morning, we are starting there. We left very early (about 6:30 am) and drove the three hours to get to the Chetola Resort. We checked in, but couldn’t get our room keys until later (which wasn’t a surprise).

This is the First Annual Blue Ridge Wine Festival, and it does show somewhat. We’ve been watching the website off and on for months to see how the event schedules would turn out. Even up until yesterday morning they had TBD for the location of the one seminar Mrs. Guy really didn’t want to miss, which was on stemware (what glass to use for what wine, et cetera). She asked at the desk at Chetola, and they had a freshly minted schedule showing that seminar to be held at the Hillwinds Inn. We had 10 minutes to get there, so we hoofed it over and barely made it on time. They started to hand out the seminar material…and it was all about Viticulture. “Um, excuse me, but isn’t this supposed to be the Stemware seminar?” “Oh, they didn’t show up. This is about grape growing.”

Mrs. Guy and I held a quick palaver looking at the schedule and decided to try to make the Scents and Flavors session just up the street. “Sorry,” we said as we left, “but we’re more interested in it after it’s in the bottle.” We double-timed up to the Inn at Ragged Gardens and slipped in just before the session started (we were glad he was a little late getting going).

After the seminar, Mrs. Guy and I had some time before the next one, so we headed up to the “World’s Best Exxon Station” (my proclamation, if not theirs). Otherwise know as the Blowing Rock Market, it has the pumps out front and normal gas-station sized building behind them. When you walk in the door, though, you notice that the whole right side of the store is nothing but wine. And not just wine, but good wine. I’ve found wines there that I can’t find in other places. At the other side of the building is the deli, which served some of the best sandwiches around. The surprising part is that they are able to maintain a 99.5 sanitation score (I’ve only once seen a restaurant get a 100.0). We got our sandwiches and ate them out front at the tables, and then headed to the Maple Lodge for the Wine Pairing with Cheese and Fruit seminar.

They were full, and turning people away from the 12:30 pm session. Mrs. Guy got us on the list for the 2:00 pm session, though, and may have gotten us the last two spots. We decided to try to make the Wine Pairing with Chocolate session, which we’d been saving for last, so I took off quickly to get us in if I could and Mrs. Guy followed as quickly as her shoes would allow.

I arrived at the Village Inn to find that the session still had plenty of seats left. Mrs. Guy arrived soon after, and we enjoyed our second seminar of the day. After it was over, we scooted back up to the Maple Lodge to find our names on a table place card, so we were set for the last seminar. They were still turning people away, and there were no more sessions after.

So, just in case anyone from the Festival staff is reading, a bit of constructive criticism for next year. First, confirm your seminars early, and get the schedule out sooner than the morning of the event. Second, there should be a way of registering early for seminars to allow them to spread the crowds out better and to let the seminar presenters know how many to expect. We felt very lucky to have gotten into the last seminar, and so many others didn’t. Also, a map of the event sites would help people find their way between the sites (though not a problem for us, we did have to give directions to several others).

Now, I haven’t really discussed the content of the seminars. Well, I could, but this post is getting long enough as it is. Let’s just say that I learned so much more than I thought I would. I was truly amazing at the breadth and depth of the information presented.

The final event of the night was the Wine Dinner. Ten different area restaurants held them, and we picked the one at Ciao Bello (since there were no shellfish on the menu – I, sadly, am allergic). They paired us up with another couple at our table, and they turned out to be delightful company for dinner. Her name was Sherrie, or Sherry, or maybe Cheri, or possibly Cherrie, but I’m pretty sure he spells his name Kevin.

The winery featured at Ciao Bello (each restaurant featured a different winery’s products) was Biltmore Estate. I first tried Biltmore Wines years ago. I though they were awful. Way too sweet, strange smells on occasion, just mediocre at best. However, in the last five to ten years, they’ve really turned it around, and have even begun rivaling many California winemakers. Last night proved to me that they’ve arrived in the big leagues. It was a seven course dinner, each course paired with a different wine, and the only wines I didn’t really like were the sparkling wines at the beginning and end. The thing is, I don’t like sparkling wines at all (nor does Kevin, apparently), but the ladies at our table gave them favorable marks.

So that ends the first day at the Blue Ridge Wine Festival, except to make a note in the “Small World” column. The lady sitting at the table next to ours at the Maple Lodge looked very familiar to me, but I couldn’t quite figure it out for a while, but finally did. It was Carol (formerly V., now M.), who I had gone to Elementary, Jr. High and High School with. We hadn’t seen each other in 23 years. So that was cool (and her husband and I spoke briefly about bicycling – I had to work cycling in here somewhere).

I put this together early today and am just now posting it. I will put up something else tomorrow that discusses today's events. Turns out the our lodging has a computer available to guests with a DSL connection.