Fourth morning in Newport, Rhode Island…. fourth balcony selfie.
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I’m nothing if not consistent.
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First stop of the day? Rough Point… heiress and famous philanthropist Doris Duke’s residence.
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Built by a Vanderbilt in 1887 and purchased by Doris’s father, James Buchanan Duke (of Duke energy and Duke University fame) in 1922… this plaque recognizes the original owners.
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Ironically, considering they were pushed off the land along with all the other Eastern tribes.
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Doris Duke’s father died when she was 12 and she was the sole inheritor of his fortune. She grew up here, spent summers for many years, and then lived here year round, off and on until her death in 1993.
Doris was quite a character. Deemed the richest little girl in the world, her life was full of privilege but laced with sadness.
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Entering the home, some history.
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Doris inherited $80 million dollars in 1925.
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A shrewd business woman, she gave away over $400 million in her lifetime.
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A news correspondent, a jazz pianist and the first non Hawaiian woman to take up competitive surfing…Doris lived a full life.
Her “cottage” is a bit different from others we’ve visited.
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Yes, it’s huge.
And grand.
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But it’s also a veritable museum.
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Oh, there’s a Van Dyck.
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There’s a Gainsborough…
And sure, there’s a Renoir in the bedroom.
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But Doris lived here until the early 1990’s, so there’s also a microwave in the kitchen and a record player in the dining room.
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The solarium?
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Had some stellar views.
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And…
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Yes, Doris had two pet camels.
As one does.
Doris loved music, and entertaining.
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The Yellow Room…
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And the Music Room hosted impromptu performances by friends Louis Armstrong and Frank Sinatra.
Since we were back in Tiverton and it was long after lunch but slightly before dinner, we took a chance on the highly rated Boat House restaurant that was too crowded the first time we stopped.
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It really is a gorgeous spot.
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And equally as attractive inside as out, with lovely views from all the tables.
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Which is why we sat at the bar.
*sigh…*
Oh well, my Limoncello margarita was fabulous no matter where I parked my keister.
Reposado tequila, limoncello, lemon, agave. Simple, and delicious.
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A perfect compliment to my Caesar salad with homemade croutons.
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Husband’s seafood chowder was rich and delicious.
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Cocktail #2, and okay… #3 as well… was the Princessa, a bar favorite.
Bacardi Limon, strawberry purée, fresh lemon juice, club soda, mint. Again, simple but fabulous.
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As you know we tend to be picky when we eat out. A place has to check 3 boxes to earn a star from us. Atmosphere, cocktails and food quality.
So far, so good.
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Husband’s filet mignon with burgundy demi glacé, asparagus and garlic mashed potatoes?
Perfection.
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My lemon beurre blanc grilled shrimp , roasted Brussels sprouts and garlic mashed potatoes?
Perfect as well.
And dessert?
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Good grief. Bananas Foster cheesecake with caramel drizzle, banana liqueur soaked bananas, homemade cinnamon whipped cream and chocolate lace.
Be still my heart…. this place was goooood!
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I swear to God I’d be tempted to make the 4 hour drive from Maine just to eat there again.
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Even if I have to fight off all the people who live in this mini mountain of high end condos right beside it.
For those of you unfamiliar with Maine’s, let me explain.
“Lobster tomalley, often referred to as the “green stuff” inside a lobster, is the hepatopancreas, a digestive gland that functions as both the liver and pancreas. It is a delicacy for some, valued for its rich, intense flavor similar to lobster meat but more intense. However, it’s also been a subject of safety concerns due to potential environmental contaminants.”
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The green stuff is a highly debated topic in my state. Some people hate it (me!) and others love it.
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Everything toxic a lobster encounters in the sea lands there. Not my idea of a culinary treat.
This is the area where we did most of our exploring while in Rhode Island.
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We stayed in Newport at the end of one peninsula but drove up and over and down another through Tiverton, Little Compton and Sakonnet.
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Beautiful places all, but one thing that always stood out?
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The stone walls.
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Everywhere.
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In front of every house.
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Some beautifully maintained and manicured…
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Some tumbling and overgrown.
I live in Maine, we know stone walls. Our home alone has three, well… four if you count the one you can’t see down back in our woods… on our property. Our neighbors have none.
But in this section of Rhode Island?
They’re everywhere.
On both sides of the street… for miles.
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In Maine, some stone walls have been in place for hundreds of years. They came about when farmers needed to clear fields for planting or livestock. The stones were dug up, hauled away and used as fences.
Necessity, meet invention.
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But today if you build a house and want a stone wall? Prepare to pay.
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We had a friend who built them for a living and did very well.
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We haven’t had contact with him for almost decade but I remember the last time we saw him on a job in 2016… he was charging $1,000 for every 10 feet, plus the cost of the stone which will make you gasp.
No vacation with my husband is complete without at least one trip to a junk filled hovel an antique store.
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The Newport area doesn’t have many but he found this one off the beaten path on the way to Tiverton.
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I’m not sure what crime this plant committed to be locked up in a cage, but it seemed relatively happy.
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Calling this place an antique store is a stretch. It had no name, no organization, no clever displays …
There was just stuff, a lot of it broken, everywhere… piled on top of each other.
My husband was in heaven.
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He found a stash of old BB gun air rifles and was transported back to his (more than slightly dangerous) childhood.
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I spotted an old phone similar to one I wanted for the man cave/Barn Mahal… but like everything else in this place it was useless, the guts had been torn out.
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Husband found a gun he wanted to buy but didn’t want to overpay. Since we were in a cell phone dead zone, he couldn’t look it up and had me take a picture for later.
Continuing our scenic drive we made it five minutes down the road, past a vine covered pole in the shape of a tree…
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When he pulled over to research the toy gun. Turns out it was worth 3 times the $50 asking price so he had to have it. Whipping the car around, we went back to the crap filled hovel store… only to find the old lady had closed. At 2:20 in the afternoon, on a Tuesday.
The husband was bereft. He searched the door and windows in vain for a phone number, but found only cobwebs.
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We drove on.
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Down through Tiverton…
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Past Little Compton…
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To Sakonnet Point, where this stack of rusted anchors reminded me of our resort’s artwork.
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Lovely waterfront areas all.
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And in case you’re interested? This house is for sale…
River's world..... 