First Impressions of Louisville Kentucky
Hot and muggy. It was 88 degrees and very humid when I arrived in Louisville just before 11 p.m. on Sunday night. The small airport had little activity. I think our flight was the last to arrive for the evening. As I walked to baggage claim, I saw advertisements that indicated what to there is to know about the local market: Kentucky Derby, Mint Julip, Louisville Slugger. What else is Kentucky known for? I gave it some thought, and then I remembered: Bourbon. Once I reached downtown, I quickly learned that Muhammad Ali is from Louisville. A street is named after him, and he seems to have a prominent role in the community.
Oh, I should note, there isn’t a direct flight from Boston to Louisville. I flew USAirways via DCA. The flight from DCA was a commuter plane. The small size with three seat across, and one where nobody over 5’11’’ can stand up straight. The plane was a half hour late, so it was already around 9 p.m. when we were all situated on our tiny plane. It was sweltering hot, and of course the AC wasn’t working. As luck would have it, I was just about in the last row, so we had no fresh air circulating in the back of the plane. I could barely breathe, but the flight attended said the AC would kick on as soon as the engine started.
Just when I thought we would be on our way, the flight attendant tells us the plane is overweight. I think, isn’t that the story of America these days? Even the plane is overweight! She informs us that one person must get off of the plane. S/he would receive a $400 voucher, hotel for the rest of the evening (not much left of it at that point) and the unlucky person would be booked on the 5:45 a.m. flight that transferred through Charlotte, NC and arrived in Louisville around 11: 00 a.m. Who in the right mind is getting off a direct flight for that? That’s when the standoff began. She said we would not leave until someone volunteered to get off of the plane. After about 10 minutes, a guy walked up to the front to get more information. I was hoping he was our hero. I could barely breathe at that point and beads of sweat were beginning to drip down my back. He returns to his seat, presumably to discuss the option with his wife, and quickly gives the option a thumbs-down. We all sigh with disappointment.
A few minutes later, the flight attended announces the name of a man who must depart the plane. I have no idea why he was selected. He was sitting behind me. He was tall and skinny. I ask out loud, how it’s possible that he of all people was going to make a difference. He was maybe 160 pounds, and even he agreed it seemed ridiculous. Next, the pilot gets off the plane and begins to dig in the baggage compartment. He brings a few bags on board and stuffs then into the very limited overhead. Small bags by the way. The overhead bins were very small. We are all wondering what the heck is going on at this point.
Then a few minutes after that, the skinny guy that was previously removed boards the plane again. I guess they also figured removing him really didn’t make a difference. Now I’m getting concerned. I started to wonder if I should get off of the plane. One minute they tell us the plain is overweight, and it isn’t safe to fly. Then they shuffle a few small bags, and it is safe? I wondered if I was testing fate. Are commuter pilots really experienced enough to make the call? I wanted Captain Sully. Why didn’t they explain the situation to us? As a communications professional, I made mental notes of how the situation could have been handled better. First tell us how much overweight we are and what the repercussions are. I asked the flight attendant for answers. She said the plane was nose heavy, and moving the bags to passenger-level helped the situation. She said they calculate an average weight per passenger, and we all packed too many bags. She said the pilot did us a favor, and we should thank him. Thank him for what I wondered. There average calculations didn’t work on this occasion. I paid for the ticket, and I paid $25 to check my bag. It was not excessive, just a normal bag. Anyway, we eventually took off and landed safely. The experience was just one more reason that I don’t care for USairways.
My airport cab driver was from Trinidad a spice island I quickly noted. He was friendly and interested in learning more about the conference that I was in town to attend, so I shared what I knew about ASEE. As we entered the city, he pointed out contributions by the local university. He was very proud of his city. The airport is about seven miles from the city’s center.
The next day, I walked a few short blocks from the Galt House Hotel to the convention center. I was on the 22nd floor of the hotel, and I had a nice view of the Ohio River and several bridges. The view remind me of Pittsburgh, but the Ohio River in Louisville is much wider, brown and muddy looking.
Oh, there were also millions of odd bugs that looked like dragon flies but weren’t. They were only by the river, but the pathway had piles of dead bugs and even more flying around. I didn’t stick around to investigate. I decided it was better to walk in the city center.
I had very little free time during the three days I was in town. I had some free time in the evenings after dinner, and luckily, the sun sets pretty late. I think it was light out until around 10 p.m. What did I notice?
The town is clean. The architecture of the older buildings also reminded me a bit of Pittsburgh. Perhaps the designers were similar, or they were built in the same years. Not sure.
I noticed parks, public art, and flowers. The small town boasts an unusually high number of museums and art galleries for its size. In particular, I recommend Art in Proof on Main which was part of the 21 C Museum Hotel. I have the impression there is a big philanthropic community supporting this art. I also had the impression economic development is a priority for the city. There are a few chains on fourth street including Hard Rock Café which hit it’s prime about 10 years ago. Most of the businesses near the convention center are there to support tourists. The locals come into the city for work and then quickly depart at the end of the day. It was really quiet in the evenings. I always felt safe walking around, but there really weren’t many people on the streets. I also noted the lack of retail. There isn’t one single department store in the city. I didn’t see any boutiques or retail shops. OK, CVS and Payless Shoes, but that was it.
If you have plans to visit the city, walk beyond 4th street live towards the Brown hotel and away from the convention center. There seemed to be a few independent cafes in that area as well as an old theater. If you read my blog, then you know I prefer local restaurants over chains.
I attended a banquet at Glassworks, which is OK. I wish I had time to explore some of the museums.
Overall, I liked Louisville. I doubt I’ll return anytime soon, but perhaps for the Derby someday.
Back to school versus back to work
Note: I have been writing about places, but I’d also like to capture observations about people in my blog series too.
My day started a bit earlier that usual yesterday. I left the house at 7 a.m. to catch a train to NYC for a series of 
meetings. As I approached the Davis Square T stop, a large group of junior high students exited. They were wearing uniforms and carrying backpacks that would soon be filled with home work. The boys were decked out in maroon button-down shirts with a tie and dark slacks. The girls wore skirts and blouses in a similar color scheme. It was a lively group that buzzed with energy. I smiled and instantly recalled both the excitement and anxiety of the first day of school of years past. I remember that I carefully selected an outfit the night before and talked to friends to determine if we would have any classes together. We would also make plans to sit together at lunch , and we surely had met by third period to pass notes to each other dishing the latest gossip. I suppose kids send texts now. Note writing is a dying art. I still have many notes from high school, and I get a kick out of reading them on occasion.
I was happy for the students, and I hope they had a great first day of school. Ah, the carefree days of childhood. I sound like my mother.
The atmosphere was completely different when I arrived in South Station. As I waited for my train, I observed a flood of people arriving via commuter rail. Unlike the lively children en route to school, the adults were quiet and lacked visible signs of energy as they returned to work on a Monday morning. The contrast was striking and a bit sad. Although, I suppose this narrow view may not be an accurate impression. I understand it may have been a rough morning for the parents who had to adjust to the back to school routine.
The adults were also wearing uniforms. The standard for men is apparently khaki slacks with a light blue button down or golf shirt. Women dress a bit more stylishly with a variety of summer skirts, dresses and the occasional suit. The adults walked briskly in silence with limited eye contact. Most seemed to be uninterested in their surroundings and were distracted by ipods and of course phones. Perhaps it was still to early for most, and they perk up after a high dose of caffeine.
I did see one man walking with a smile on his face, and I wondered what he was thinking about. Strange to think that he stood out because he was smiling. Although, I was smiling too. I have always enjoyed train stations particularly those in Europe. People are coming and going. Perhaps for vacation, to visit family or friends or for work. I love the hustle and bustle.
I decided that I had enough of people watching, so I read the NY Times until my train arrived. When I arrived in Penn Station, I was energized and ready for the day.
You can face the day smiling or frowning. The choice is yours.
Manchester-by-the-Sea’s Singing Beach
My schedule is pretty flexible these days, so I have to wonder why it has taken until August to figure out that I should work mornings and evenings and spend afternoons at the beach!
Well, this week I finally came to my senses, and on two occasions, I relaxed to the soothing sound of waves gently crashing on Singing Beach! It’s one of my favorite Cape Anne beaches.
Singing beach is about 30 miles north of Boston. With light traffic, it takes about 45 minutes door to door. Parking ($25) at this beach is very limited even during the week. You can park in town and walk about 5 minutes to the beach. Better yet, I recommend that you take the commuter rail to Manchester-by-the-Sea and walk the same distance. It’s a quaint town, so you can also browse through boutiques before or after enjoying the beach. There is a snack bar at the beach, but I usually by a sandwich at the local deli and have a picnic lunch.
Singing beach is at the end of a beautiful residential neighborhood. Multi-million dollar homes and trees line the beach which is probably less than a half mile long. Looking straight out to the horizon dotted with sailboats, it feels like you are on an island. The water is clean and reflects many shades throughout the day. There are also a few small rocky islands not far from shore. 
The clear blue/green water was a brisk 66 degrees, so it stings your feet upon entry. Nonetheless, it is refreshing on an 80 degree day. It’s funny to watch everyone have the same physical reaction to the cold water temperature. Actually, just adults. Apparently kids have no idea how cold the water is. They jump right in.
Oh, I should warn that this is a family beach for the most part. On Thursday, there were literally bus loads of kids. They were mostly on the opposite end of the beach, so it was still pretty quiet near me. I intermittently read, walked, napped and swam throughout the day.
It was a lovely day.
Perouges France: A charming Medieval Village
Written from the heart.
The name of this ancient french city about 2o miles east of Lyon reminds me of Periogie, but that is likely due to my poor french pronunciation. Yes, I know better.
The day my friend Mary and I visited Perouges it was nearly deserted and eerily quiet. We arrived late morning mid-week, and we parked in an empty lot that is not doubt filled during tourist season. It was a cool spring day. At one point, rain quickly turned into snow flakes and then minutes later-nothing. Apparently, the weather there changes more quickly than in New England.
We walked along the cobblestone street past stone buildings. There were only a few other people strolling around. I felt as though we were sneaking around in forbidden territory, but a reverent town is best explored peacefully. I was grateful there weren’t droves of tourists to ruin the experience.You know how they are. 🙂
Perouge is small. I suspect about half the size of one city block in Boston. 
There are a few shops, galleries and restaurants in the historic town. Only two restaurants and one shop were open during our visit. We stopped in the shop and spoke in broken French to the women working there. She said the season is off to a very slow start, and people are afraid to spend money due to the uncertainty of the economy. Being a brave American, I bought a few small items including a jar of jelly and post cards. She recommended that we have lunch at L’Ostellerie du Viex Perouges. It’s a Michelin rated restaurant. Apparently President Clinton ate there in the 90’s. Now, they can tell people that I ate there in 2009! 🙂
Lunch, as she warned us, was expensive at 40 euro/person, but reasonable when you consider it was 3 courses in a one-of-a-kind venue with excellent service . I had smoked duck with avocado, chicken with veggies. Their specialty dessert is galette pérugienne à la crème (the “pancake of Pérouges”). I realize chicken and duck sound boring, but I can’t recall the name of the sauce. Trust me, it was beyond fresh and flavorful. This region of France is known for gastronomy.
While the dessert looks like pizza crust, it’s not! It’s dough made with sugar, lemon, and butter. If that’s not fattening enough, the waitress arrived with a vat of creme and scooped a healthy portion onto the “pancake.” Not cool whip. 100% creme. It was so thick and buttery it looked like French vanilla ice-cream. I cried uncle! Could not eat another bite, but somehow I managed to eat the entire desert (a slice not the entire pancake). After all, I can’t have this dessert in Boston.
You see what I'm saying?
Oh, I should mention that at Noon, many people arrived in town to have lunch at the restaurant. All business men actually. Apparently, there is a car factory near by. Mary and I were the only two women eating at the restaurant. The other women worked there.
There were many impressive details to note from this lunch, but I think the wine list stands out. Not just for the fabulous selection of regional wines available, but specifically because it was hand written on a very large sheet of parchment paper. You can’t tell in this picture, but the wine list was about 3 ft x 2 ft. Check it out!
What a beautiful wine list!
It was a short day trip, but a very memorable experience. If you are in the area, I recommend a visit to Perouges.
Six Hours in Paris
Peter Shankman, of HARO fame, today asked subscribers for suggestions on where to stay/what to do with six hours in Paris. It’s one of my favorite cities, so I could not resist offering my recommendations.
I recently spent half a day in Paris on route from Lyon to London, so I know the dilemma well. I’ve been to Paris about 9 times, so I’ve seen all of the major sites and have visited many museums. I opted for a stroll which began at Rue St. Michel in the Latin Quarter. I stopped by the hotel where I usually stay to say hello to staff and to check my bag for the day. Eric, front desk clerk, has worked there for about 10 years, and it was nice to see a familiar face. I had not seen him for about 2 years. He told me that he had two heart attacks since my last visit. He is rethinking his priorities in life, and he said he may quit and pursue other paths. I mention this as a reminder to do what makes you happy. Life is short.
Anyway, I walked around the Latin Quarter, along the Seine to my favorite bridge, Pont Alexander, and then back along the Right Bank from the edge of Champs Elysees, past Place De La Concorde, through the Jardin Des Tuileries to the front of Musee du Louvre. From there I walked down Rue de Rivoli and over to Ile de Cite and then Ile St. Louis for Berthillion ice cream which I ate while listening to a man playing his accordion. Perfect!
Cafe in Paris
I spent the last two hours at a cafe across from Notre Dame. Enjoyed Bordeaux, food and people watching before I made my way to Gare Du Nord to catch the Eurostar to London. Believe it or not, my only purchase was the green scarf I’m wearing in the picture.
What would I recommend to others? There are a few considerations:
1) Is this your first trip? If so, pick three icons you always wanted to see. Skip the museums. You don’t have enough time.
2) What’s your temperament? Do you prefer to be active? Paris is a very walkable city. You can cover quite a distance by foot in a few hours. (TIP: The buses are very easy to use, and they are the same price as the metro. You can see more if you take a bus from one destination to another. )
3) What is the season? If it’s warm, enjoy the parks and outdoor seating. People watching is an art in Paris. If it’s cold, find a cafe with a view to sip coffee or wine, check out the fashion trends in Galeries Lafayette etc.
Sample itinerary for Peter:
*Go to Canal St. Martin. (Metro: Republique) This area is more bohemian than the Latin Quarter. Have lunch at Chez Prune, 71 quai de Valmy. After lunch, check out a few of the trendy shops in the area. Depending upon what direction you walk, there are several other metro stops.
From Canel St Martin, go to Montmartre if you haven’t been. It’s a bit touristy at Sacre Coeur, but it is the highest point in Paris, so you get a nice view of the city and you can stroll past the artists in the square and perhaps have a glass of wine.
Or, skip that and walk around the Marais. There will probably be musicians around the Place des Vosges.
Since it’s summer time, you simply must have Berthillion ice cream. Go to the shop on Ile St Louis behind Notre Dame cathedral.
If you haven’t seen the stained glass windows at Sainte Chappelle (Ile de la Cite), you must if it’s a sunny day. It’s a short stop: 20 minutes?
Enjoy! Paris is a beautiful city, and you’ll enjoy it no matter what you see or explore.
Springtime in Boston
George at the entrance of the park
Spring has emerged as my favorite season in New England. It’s brief, but after enduring a long and often harsh winter comprised mostly of grey sky and dirty snow, this colorful season is a welcomed reprieve!
Bare trees transform into beautiful bouquets that I wish would last longer then a few brief weeks. In the Back Bay we have the privilege of enjoying two blossoms. First the Magnolias, Apple Blossoms, Dogwoods etc. bloom on the north side of the street then they bloom on the south side about a week later. Tulips- red, pink, yellow, white and orange are everywhere! This is particularly true in the Boston Garden.
On this particular Friday afternoon, I’m sitting in the Boston Garden with nowhere to be. I’m grateful that I have the time to sit and enjoy the peaceful yet entertaining surroundings while perched on the wall of the bridge. The pond is dark green almost brown and filled with ducks, swans and Canadian geese. The swan boats are out. Kids are everywhere laughing and chasing birds and each other. There are a few artists painting pictures. Tourists stop on the bridge to take photos; some stop to watch a woman who is spontaneously composing a ballet dance to the music a man is playing on his accordion.
As I listen to the french song he is playing, I can picture myself in Paris along the Seine on the Ile Saint Louis and just across from Notre Dome Cathedral. When I was there in March, eating Berthillon ice cream, a man was playing the accordion in the rain. Oh, the charm of Paris and Boston!
On this day, the park is filled with a mix of foreign students on a scavenger hunt, leisurely strollers, power walkers, dog walkers, and commuters on their way home from work or to happy hour. It seems as if everyone who stops on the bridge has a camera.
It’s a warm sunny day with a clear blue sky only divided only by a sky scraper flying in the center of it.
I occasionally sit in the park, but I mostly walk through it or around it. On this day, I am thoroughly amused by all that I observe. I saw a professionally dressed man, late fifties/early sixties pretending to tap dance as a man breathed into his saxaphone (U2 fans know this phrase). At first I thought he was drunk, but then I realized that he was just enjoying the music. You had to see him.
I’ve lived in Boston long enough to recognize the park musicians, but this was the first time in many years that I lingered long enough to appreciate them.
I’m glad I did.
Washington DC Circles
I have family and friends in DC, so I visit quite often. Over the years, I’ve learned to maneuver many circles in DC including Dupont and Logan, but I’m still learning about its social circles. I find people in the District to be very friendly and skilled at the art of conversation. No surprise due to the transient nature of the District and the highly educated pool of workers it attracts.
Locals have mastered the art of sizing people up with a few brief questions. They quickly determine where you stand socially & politically. If you work on the Hill and have access to appropriations or anyone deemed to be influential, you are in good standing. As a Bostonian who works in the technology industry, I suspect I am placed into a neutral category or in the same as the mutual friend making the introduction since we are also often judged by the company we keep.
Regardless of location, I suspect that many conversations at cocktail parties or networking events begin with the same questions:
“What do you do?/Where do you work?”
“How did you meet/how do you know so-and-so?”
“Where are you from?” How long have you lived in X ?”
I suppose we do this to establish common ground. While the questions may be the same, the value of the answers differ regionally. Do you agree?
London calling
but not so long this time.
London was the first European city I ever visited. I was there with my sister for a week during spring break in 1992. It was my very first stamp in my very first passport! (Note: I had previously traveled to Mexico & Canada, but you didn’t need a passport at the time.) We took walking tours and visited all of the major tourist sights including the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, Picadilly, Trafalgar Square, St. Paul’s Cathedral etc. We also took day trips to nearby cities including Shakesphere’s hometown. I felt like I had experienced all that London had to offer.
I returned to London again with college friends in 1994 to launch our seven week backpacking tour of Europe. I actually can’t recall what I saw on that visit, but I suspect it was much of the same as the 1992 trip since it was the first visit for my friends. With two visits under my belt, I checked it of the long list of places to visit.
I always assumed I would return to London, but I never expected that it would take 15 years! In March, I finally returned to visit several of my friends that have moved there in the past year. I love London! I had fond memories of it, but it seemed to be a completely different city to me. Perhaps we both matured along the way.
The food used to be crap. Now they have “gastro pubs” that serve wine and a variety of ethic food beyond traditional fish and chips.
Security has changed quite a bit too. In the 90’s there weren’t any trash bins on the streets, but they have reappeared along with cameras. EVERYWHERE. I’m sure that is the case in most cities today, but it is very obvious there.
The city is clean, lively and completely fascinating. It’s both historic and trendy. Sophisticated. It’s a vast city, but it feels like a small town. It’s not as urban as NYC. It’s more like Brooklyn. Actually, It feels like Boston, but that could be because all of the street names are the same. 🙂
One of my friends lives in Chelsea which is prime location in walking distance to shops, restaurants etc. It’s apparently a very wealthy area. I noted many Porches, Ferraris and Maseratis parked on the streets!
On this trip, I spent very little time at the traditional tourist stops. I explored neighborhoods and food markets, saw a movie in a local theater, strolled through parks and museums, participated in quiz night at a local pub, attended the Oxford versus Cambridge crew race.
I felt like a local.
I may need to rethink my love affair with Paris.
Cruising at 39,000 Feet
I recently flew Air France from JKF to CGD Paris. The experience was quite pleasant as far as flying goes these days. The bi-lingual flight attendants were cheerful, and the coach accommodations were reasonable (decent leg room, clean, spacious overhead bins). I was thrilled to be on my way to Paris, so, I admit, few things could have altered that euphoria. I did note features that enhanced the experience:
1) Personal TV screens. All planes should have this feature. It’s one of the reasons I prefer Jet Blue for domestic flights. Watching whatever you choose during a 6+ hour flight is great distraction from the monotony.
2) Printed diner menus. This used to be standard on international flights, but it seems to be 50/50 these days. I like that Air France provided menus. I almost forgot I was in coach. Almost. 🙂
3) Champaign. French Champaign. Then wine with dinner if I so chose. Classy.
4) Reading Materials. They had a nice selection of magazine and newspapers. Another good distraction if you don’t want to watch movies/TV for the entire flight.
My return flight was from London Heathrow to JFK on Delta. I expectated the same level of service. Afterall, both legs were purchased through Delta.com.
Nope. Completing different experience.
No personal TV screens. I had to strain my eyes to watch the pre-selected movies on a screen about 5 rows away from me.
No menus or Champaign. Wine was offered with dinner, but otherwise for purchase in coach.
No magazines (other than the duty free etc.). Although, thankfully they did offer a selection of newspapers. I suspect that’s because Europeans read newspapers frequently and expect news to be available.
The difference between the two international flights was striking. I had wrongly assumed that international flights were “old school” and still provided ammenities that enhanced the travel experience. Small details, yes. However, details make a difference as far as brand and customer service go. Air France did it right.
Ah, vacation was indeed over. I was jet lagged and exhausted. After a two hour lay over in a dingy JFK terminal, I boarded a small commuter plane and quickly realized the flight from London was a luxury in comparison. I didn’t care. I took a nap and was home before I knew it.
About
I have 15 years of experience advising senior executives on communications and marketing strategies to build brand, market share and to drive sales leads.
Travel is my passion. I have explored more than 100 cities in 16 countries on 3 continents. I am interested in people and places both far and near. From time to time, I update my blog to share my travel experiences.
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People, Places: Raison d'être 
