I hadn’t, but always wanted to… imaging myself sipping a cup of tea surrounded by purring felines. So when I saw an advertisement for one right on our planned route for the day, I had to stop.
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Mind you… though the husband loves cats, he wasn’t totally on board with this plan.
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It was a small place, with everything appropriately cat themed.
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And though I wanted iced tea, all they had was chai… which was grossly over sweetened.
No matter… we were going to pet some cats!
Or were we?
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Turns out my dream of leisurely sipping and petting was ill formed as the actual cats are not allowed anywhere near the food and beverages. They’re in a separate room, which because we always have bad timing… was hosting a book club that wouldn’t be done for another half an hour.
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At that point the husband wanted to leave, but he loves me and indulged my desire to stay. With 30 minutes to kill we ordered overpriced sandwiches to go with our overpriced beverages and settled down to wait.
When the book club ladies started filing out of the chambre des chats, we disposed of our trash and made for the door… where we found a sign.
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At this point my husband really wanted to leave as he discovered it would be $20 for us to enter and pet cats… for 20 minutes.
But remember….
He loves me.
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So in we went.
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All the residents are up for adoption.
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And most of them were asleep.
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With the exception of little Miss Attitude…
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And this poor fellow who was thin and looked ill, though we were told he belongs to the owner and is just old.
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There weren’t a lot of cats, maybe 6.
We weren’t allowed to pick them up or sit with them on our laps.
And there was definitely no leisurely sipping and petting.
As we continued our tour of Chateau Sur Mer, a photo of the original 1852 home and the subsequent 1873 renovation.
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This portrait of the owner and his daughter creeped me out a bit.
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I can’t give you any specific reason, just an overall vibe.
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The dining room was a focal point of the home , with the upper part of the walls covered in Spanish leather that was stamped, silvered and painted.
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It’s all original and in relatively good shape.
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The matching chairs show a lot more wear.
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The fireplace carvings were lavish.
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With French majolica portraying disturbing scenes of a hunt.
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Cavorting Bacchus figures are enjoying some wine…
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With this amply endowed creature pouring.
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This sculpture gazes longingly at an iced tub of champagne and I got the feeling a lot of drinking went on here.
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Chateau Sur Mer is a house of exotic wood. And in order to prevent it from fading, most of the heavy drapes in the house are drawn. This made for some very dark photos and required me to edit them here so you can appreciate the richness.
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The butlers pantry was fully stocked.
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With some absolutely amazing silver.
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Nothing I own is anywhere near this elaborate…
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And I still have a hard time keeping it polished.
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I wouldn’t doubt there was a servant whose sole job was keeping this collection shiny.
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Finished with the downstairs …
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We made our way around the central hall …
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And headed for the staircase, which was a work of art in itself.
Day four Newport, Rhode Island trip, part two… morning balcony selfie.
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First thing on the agenda that day was Chateau Sur Mer.
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Meaning Castle By The Sea, the home is a landmark of High Victorian architecture, furniture, wallpapers, ceramics and stenciling. It was the most palatial residence in Newport from its completion in 1852 until the appearance of the Vanderbilt houses in the 1890s.
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One of the first grand “cottages” on Bellevue Avenue, its lavish and extravagant parties ushered in the Gilded Age of Newport.
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From the outside it felt almost gothic.
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And beside the front door?
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One of those marvelous ancient weeping birches I keep admiring.
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This one had a canopy that delivered you into another world when you ducked under it.
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It was fabulous.
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During a conversation with a docent on our previous trip, we asked him which of the mansions was his favorite.
Being a woodworker, he said Chateau Sur Mer.
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Just a few steps inside revealed why.
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A three story 45 foot ceiling with broad balconies draws your eyes up.
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The Italianate library was designed and built in Italy, disassembled and rebuilt here for the owner, William Shepard Wetmore, whose portrait is in the foreground.
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The owl was shocked.
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The home is one of only a few year round residences and I cringe to think what it cost to heat.
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The marble hall served as an exhibition space and gallery for art and sculpture.
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The ballroom was also known as the Gold Salon.
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As the walls and moulding are highlighted with gold leaf.
Continuing on with our exploration of the Green Animals Topiary Garden in Portsmouth, we left the garden proper and strolled past the house.
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Which was lined with impressively trimmed shrubbery.
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Sadly the home is not open to tours…
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But there’s a big porch with comfortable chairs where you’re invited to sit.
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We opted for a bench under the shade of a giant tree.
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The lawn slopes down to Narragansett Bay, where we spotted another topiary.
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A rather oddly shaped topiary that my husband and I pondered greatly.
I said long legged turtle.
He said hunchbacked manatee.
What say you?
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Walking back around the house we saw some ornate wrought iron and walls in much need of scraping and paint.
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On the other side of the house… a truly magnificent tree.
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A grand old gentleman who no doubt had outlived many of the home’s owners.
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Husband, for scale.
We were so impressed by the tree we asked one the attendants how old they thought it was…. which was when he directed us to the resident expert of all things.
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This charming young lady of 91 actually worked on the estate as head housekeeper for the last living owner. She had some wonderful stories about the place and informed us the tree in question was over 150 years old.
She lives right up the road and walks down to the gardens every day to help the docents …. as well as socialize. She told us she was quite unhappy with the current crew of topiary trimmers. The policeman was too fat, the giraffe was too short and the goose looked like a duck.
Knowing we were talking to the authority, we asked what the mystery topiary down by the bay was supposed to be.
After a day of exploring, we returned to the resort to refresh… and then headed out for an early evening stroll on Thames Street. ( locally pronounced th-aims which drove me crazy)
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Ducking down a waterfront side street brought us to a dock that let us view our condo from afar.
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Top arrow is our condo.
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Bottom arrow is our hungry seagull. Clearly waiting for us to return with a snack.
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There are some beautiful old buildings in Newport.
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And if there’s empty ground in front of them? There’s a bar.
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You might remember this shop from my last trip when we drove by and laughed.
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This time we went inside and laughed.
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And bought a souvenir t shirt.
For me.
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This store was inexplicably outfitted in fake lemons.
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This 1700’’s home was a tad more discreet.
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There was an oyster festival in progress on one of the wharfs… and as we were walking by an interesting fellow started a conversation with my spouse.
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As you know, my guy loves to talk. So when someone says thank you for your service, we’re off.
Of course this conversation was a bit different as the guy who initiated it was… shall we say… under the influence of more than one substance. He kept telling my husband he’d seen things, he’d lived, he knew. It was hard to follow his train of thought because he was all over the place. Religion, politics, otherworldly adventures… it was a tad bizarre. But just when I was ready to write him off as a total kook? He said something that made perfect sense.
He turned to me, said I was a queen who must be revered and told my husband to acquiesce to me in all things. Then he genuflected in front of me, got down on both knees, bowed… and squeezed my shoes.
So, yeah.
He was totally sane.
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People.
Ya gotta love ‘em.
Moving on, the husband was hungry and I wasn’t so we ducked into an unassuming mom and pop pizza place across from our resort so he could nosh. The restaurant didn’t look like much, but the spaghetti with meatballs was some of the best he’d ever had.
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Amazing sauce, huge meatballs, baked with mozzarella and fresh basil in a massive bowl. The husband was a happy camper.
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Back at the condo we sat on the balcony with adult beverages.
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And watched the sun set on Newport harbor.
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It was a good day.
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Though the husband wasn’t nearly as reverential as my queenly status demands.
They say you can’t go home again and sadly that was true of what was our favorite restaurant on our previous trip to Rhode Island.
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We returned to the Beach House in Bristol expecting another stellar meal but were in for a surprise.
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I wanted a mojito but they had no mint. The blackberry margarita was alright, but $17 for an old fashioned glass size seemed a tad much.
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My husband’s lobster bisque, while creamy… wasn’t exactly brimming with lobster.
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And searching for the crab in my crab fritters was a time consuming task.
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Sadly they’d changed their hours on full entrees vs lunch so the husband ordered nothing… he’s not a sandwich guy… and I settled for an uninspiring chicken Caesar wrap with tiny overdone fry bits. Very disappointing.
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As we hit the parking lot, a family of geese.
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Photo worthy, yes.
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But everyone was headed for the road…
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And that wasn’t good.
This road is a busy straightaway and people fly by. Not wanting to see any of our avian brethren squashed, I dropped my purse ( but not my phone, once a blogger – always a blogger) and ran into the road like a lunatic waving my arms for cars to stop.
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Once they were safely across, the mother and father geese jumped a stone wall to access a pond, but the goslings couldn’t manage the leap and were distressed enough to start heading back to the road…
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Which is when my husband jogged across, picked up every little gosling and plopped them over the side with mom and dad. Look to his right and you’ll see an adult goose head giving him the stink eye.
Rescue complete, we headed down the road to Colt State Park.
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I’ll quote the history instead of summarizing.
Colt State Park is a true gem within the State Park System. With 464 acres of lawns, four miles of paved pathways, hiking trails, historic stone walls, and one of the state’s most spectacular shorelines, Colt State Park is a favorite among visitors and locals alike.
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The stone walls were impressive, and unusual in a state park.
Beginning in 1905, the Colt family began to assemble the parcels of land that would become their farm on Poppasquash Neck from lands owned by old Bristol families. These were the farms of the Chase, Church, and Van Wickle families.
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Colt Farm, now Colt State Park, became a showcase of wealth. The entrance to the property alone spoke of the tone and ambition of the owner. A pair of bronze bulls anchors the approach.
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The bulls.
Throughout the drive to the main house and its complex of barns, a party casino, and stables, Colt dotted the landscape with examples of European sculpture and statuary of mythical Greek gods and goddesses. This display of the human form prompted one of Colt’s relatives to call the drive to the casino/party pavilion “Wall Street,” an avenue of the “bulls and the bares!” Colt prided himself on operating the farm to breed prize Jersey cattle. The magnificent cow barn is one of the surviving structures in the park.
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The barn.
As local town histories note, no expense was spared on Colt’s prized herd. “There was one employee for each cow. The cows’ horns were polished, and their tails were washed daily. When in their stanchions, the cows always had a thick bed of fresh straw. Cork and rubber covered the concrete floor where the cows stood. The spotless, comfortable barn was even heated in the winter.”
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Samuel P. Colt died in 1921. Disputes about his will, clouded by disagreements among family members, stalled attempts by the State to acquire the property by the Metropolitan Park Commission in 1935. It wasn’t until 1965, using Green Acres funds, that the state bought the farm for use as a park.
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In the meantime, throughout the intervening years, the estate was managed by the Industrial Trust Company. Governor John H. Chafee dedicated the park in 1968. Today, a statue of Chafee overlooks the landscape of an open-air Chapel by the Sea, ten playing fields, six picnic groves, restrooms, a public boat ramp, and four miles of walking, jogging, and bicycle trails.
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The statue.
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It was quite a place.
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And in case you’re wondering about the history I quoted above, yes…
River's world..... 