Tag Archives: hotels

Are you ready for a vacation smackdown?


You had 2 days off in between trips… and I threw in some Bambi pics as well. Are we good?


I admit I might have gone a little overboard with the Williamsburg, Virginia vacation photos this time…. like 3,089 pics overboard.

So sue me.

It was a fabulous trip, a marvelous Christmas and a wonderful place to explore. What can I say? When I’m old and feeble I’ll enjoy looking back on them all. (If I can remember why there are so many pictures of rocks…. and who that strange man is of course.)

Time to fasten your seat belts and loosen your pants!

The trip starts now.




Okay… but fair warning, that may not be until June.

Not wanting to put the miles and wear and tear on my car, we rented one. Well, I rented one. A mid size SUV like I always do… but when we arrived at the lot, they didn’t have any and had to upgrade us to luxury.

Cool beans!

We could pick the Audi or the Infiniti.

So what did my husband pick?




The Chevy Suburban.



Which happens to be the biggest, thirstiest, most annoying  lumbering behemoth vehicle ever made. A nightmare to park. A horror show for short people like me to board. A useless third row seat we didn’t need and couldn’t figure out how to fold down. Gas stations? We dreaded the mere sight of them after a few days. So why did my spouse choose it?

Because it was big.

And he’s a man.

Enough said.

Our trip from Maine started out like this:




With buckets of the same for the first few states.




When we were nearing Hartford, Connecticut it let up, but we hit road construction….




And this rather precarious way of shoring up of the highway made me cringe.




I guess I should be glad they didn’t use duct tape, but still.



Next up was my least favorite part of the trip….




New York City.

Don’t get me wrong, I was born and raised in New Jersey… I can hang. But riding shotgun with my  (leadfooted, 2 centimeters from the car in front of us, switch lanes like it’s the Indy 500)  husband…. in the Black Brontosaurus?

Would test Ironman’s nerves.




Though I can honestly say it’s the only time in my life I’m thankful for bumper to bumper traffic.




Reduce speed?




I don’t think that’s possible.

I’d post some great pics of our trip over the famous George Washington bridge, but the husband always takes the upper truck level…. so basically this was my view:




But here’s one peek through the fog.




After the bridge? It’s New Jersey…




And the swamps they built the Meadowlands on.




If you’ve ever wondered where Tony Soprano and his boys dumped the bodies?

It would be here.




Oil refineries aside, you have to admit that the foul, smoggy New Jersey air does make for a dramatic sky.

Onward through the evening we drove, with the husband choosing our route. If you know me…. you know I’m type A and like to plan. Letting him pick a spot for us to spend the night was torture, but I sucked it up and endured.

I endured him picking a random town in Delaware because he liked the name, Red Lion.

Did Red Lion, Delaware have any hotels you ask?


It did not.

And trust me, we drove around for almost an hour trying to find one even though I Googled it and came up empty. We did however find this:




A Christmas extravaganza house that was blocking traffic.




I can barely keep 2 reindeer lit… WTH?

After admitting defeat, the husband drove another 40 minutes to Dover, Delaware and pulled into the first Holiday Inn he saw.




I had my doubts when I saw the lounge was decorated in early bordello. Yes… satin furniture and rhinestone encrusted mirrors.

Thankfully our room was toned down from that…




But it did have some interesting features.




Mainly, the lighting.




Is it me?




Or did this over the bathroom sink fixture look like deer hooves?




Come on…

There’s no reasonable Martha Stewart explanation for that.



And while this corner lamp reminded me of my mother and her pull down hair dryer of the 1960’s…..




It was these over the bed reading lamps that were a little too proctology/gynecology themed for my taste.




And don’t get me started on the art work.




Really, don’t.

What the…. what?

So ends day one.

(And before you start screaming Martin…. road trips with my husband consist of a McDonalds lunch eaten in the car doing 90 mph and a perfectly horrible turkey dinner at a Bob Evans next to the hotel late that night. Neither were photo worthy!)


Resort hopping Part 3… The Eagle Mountain House.


Last on our list of resorts that day was an old and well known establishment.




New England is full of quirky places like this.




With a nice big porch…




And a nice big view…




It was a pleasant spot to end the day.












And full of antiques….




It was instantly welcoming.




I can’t say it any better than that.




The bar.



Oh, stuff it Dorothy.

You know us better by now.




But amusing sign aside…




The mushroom risotto cake appetizer left a lot to be desired, as did the cranberry gin fizz.

A definite meh.




We only stayed for one round and then headed into the gift shop… where I saw a wine tag that made me laugh.




As well as…

Are you ready for this?

A bucket of ducks!




Christ on a cracker….enough with the rubber ducks.

This was getting creepy.




Bidding farewell to the hotel, and the ducks….




It took all I could do to convince the husband he could not go rummage in the establishment’s old slate roofed barn.




The mere thought of not being able to gather up all the unloved tools and rusted treasures that must be stored in there? Practically ruined his night…



Resort hopping Part 2. The Mountain View Grand.


Hidden away in tiny Whitefield, New Hampshire is a gem.




A sprawling hotel…




Packed with old world charm.

Sadly they were renovating the front entrance when we visited so we had to sneak in the side.




Look at those doors!




Chess anyone?




I’m a sucker for a good porch.




And this one did not disappoint.




I could happily plop here with a good book….




A pitcher of margaritas…




And never leave.




Back inside, I checked out the wall of history…




And some great old photographs…






While the husband continued his “I shall pee everywhere I can in Western Maine and New Hampshire” challenge with an upscale rest room this time.

And speaking of rest rooms…




Even I had to check out the pink marble in theirs.

But ooh la la…




There were private sinks inside the ladies room stalls.

Is that some chic shit or what?




Moving on through the lounge…




We found a dining room… and the place where we would spend the next two hours.




The bar.



Don’t look surprised, you knew it was coming.




One Lemonflower Martini…




One Cranberry Orange Margarita…




And one Melon Margarita later…




(Don’t judge me.

They had a 6 page cocktail list and tequila soaked cranberries…. I had to.)




There were some crab cakes.

Some smiley face crab cakes… and yes, that was on purpose.




Crab cakes weren’t supposed to be served that time of day, or at all in the tavern for that matter….. but when you make friends with the bartender?

Anything is possible.




An afternoon well spent, we poured ourselves out the door.




And lamented the fact we wouldn’t be back anytime soon.




Even mid facelift..

She’s an elegant old broad.

If only it were on our list….


I often cruise our timeshare site looking for deals. Someplace we’ve never been, some lovely resort where we’d like to stay.

Then the other day I read an article that made me rethink my aversion to Airbnb.


We could rent a potato.




No joke.

Apparently this particular spud toured the US for six years on the back of a truck, and no one knew what to do with it afterward.




While my first thought wouldn’t have been,  ‘Hey, let’s throw a queen size Serta in there and rent that baby out!’

Clearly I lack vision.


  • A giant (fake) potato has been turned into a home that you can rent on Airbnb.
  • The Big Idaho Potato Hotel is a 6-ton potato structure that was created to promote spuds across the US.
  • A small-home developer turned it into an incredibly stylish rental property.
  • It costs $200 a night.


It’s a real hotel room, of sorts.


The potato sleeps two, with one queen bed, and there’s a small bathroom, a kitchenette, a fireplace, and air-conditioning too. With millennial-pink accents and house plants aplenty, it’s as Instagrammable inside as out.

Measuring 28 feet long, 12 feet wide, and 11.5 feet tall, the giant potato was created by the Idaho Potato Commission to promote the noble vegetable.






Granted the landscaping leaves a little to be desired.

And the views?

Well, it is Idaho.



IMG_4547 Which is probably why there are no windows.But still..  it’s a giant tater!! 

We’ve all dreamed about living inside a potato, with hash browns for cushions, fries as shelves, and a giant bowl of fluffy mash to snuggle into at night.


So if spuds are your one true love, you’re probably going to want to book a night in the Big Idaho Potato Hotel, which has been listed on Airbnb.


And there you have it…

The perfect vacation getaway.




You’re welcome.


And just in case you didn’t think I could tie Game of Thrones into this post?





Never doubt me.