Photo from the Cedar City Review, October 2005, showing the devastation by bark beetles in Cedar Breaks National Monument.  

So, a couple of days ago we saw Zion, and headed right out afterwards, taking the circuitous highway east of the Park, over the Mt. Carmel Highway. Lots of tunnels – even had to wait in line at one spot as they only allowed single file in the longest of them. The scenery was spectacular, with small bits and pieces that looked more like Bryce Canyon than Zion. Then we headed north and went to Cedar Breaks. This isn’t a place most people visit – it’s a National Monument, not a National Park. I remembered it from a trip once before and knew it was beautiful. Well, that is, until the Bark Beetles came to town. Several years ago the bark beetle made a foray in the direction of Cedar Breaks. It looks almost like a forest fire had gone through, yet none of the trees were black. We couldn’t figure it out. There were a few aspens decorated in autumn finery, but not many. We headed up. And up. And up. Finally we got to over 10,000 feet and found the hotel I’d reserved. In the winter the area teems with skiers, but summer is slow, so there’s only one hotel open. The Cedar Breaks Lodge. Had a nice dinner – I wasn’t expecting much in a remote place like that – but it was exceptionally good. And it was there we heard the story about the bark beetle and how it has just devastated the forest around Cedar Breaks. The hotel staff shared that the environmentalists won out – to allow the bark beetle to do its thing – rather than use any kind of pesticide to eradicate them.

After a long day of driving we were tired and went to bed early. I didn’t sleep well, however. Actually got up and played games on my laptop from about 3 – 6 am. I mean it’s really bad when you play solitaire on your laptop in a hotel room. My DH was awake too some of the time, and we finally figured out we were suffering from altitude sickness. He ended up doing most of the driving the next day because I really didn’t feel all that great.

Here’s what we learned about altitude sickness:

• It’s a good idea for the first 24 hours to take it easy (well, we did, sort of)
• Exertion of any kind is not recommended, like carrying suitcases up a flight of stairs (oops)
• It’s a good idea to eat lightly (oops – it was so good, we cleaned our plates)
• It’s not a good idea to drink alcohol for the first 24 hours (oops, we both had wine with dinner)
• It’s a good idea to stay hydrated (oops – we couldn’t figure out why there were humidifiers in every room – finally at 2:30 am I filled it up and turned it on – that helped plus the tall glasses of water we both drank at about 3:00 am)
• Dizziness and headaches are common effects of altitude sickness (uh, yep, had both of those)
• Nausea is also a common effect (uh, yep, had that too, and the other one we won’t go into here)
• Sleeplessness, or other sleep disorders are also common (oh yea, had that big time)
• And maybe most important: it’s a good idea to take any pictures you want before you get sick because later – like the next day – you won’t feel like it.

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Traveling certainly is a mixed bag of internet service. I was supposed to have service at last night’s hotel, but my computer would not connect. Just wouldn’t. But, they charged me $9 anyway. I’ll have to phone THAT place and give them a little piece of my mind.

We did, finally, leave Las Vegas and headed northeast toward Zion National Park in Utah. Took longer to get there than planned, but made the afternoon tour bus in the Park. That place is just so awesome. The only word that comes to mind is majestic.

In case any of you haven’t been to Zion in awhile (yep, that’s me) you can no longer drive into Zion in your own car. For some years now they have been using propane powered buses to take visitors up the 6 miles in, and 6 miles back. There are lots of stops along the way where you can get off and hike (short, long, strenuous or not). We heard a really interesting story along one section. . . About halfway into the park there is a Lodge. If you have reservations, you get the coveted red pass that allows you to drive your car that far. (I tried to make such reservations several months ago, but they were booked up.) I don’t remember the year the incident happened, but during the night a rock slide occurred (not common, but it happens sometimes). It wasn’t until someone started up the narrow road did they discover it was completely obliterated. The river that runs alongside the two-lane road was dammed up too, although it post haste found another route to divert. There were 300 people at the Lodge that night (guests and employees). None of them could get out. Somehow, within about 24-48 hours they were able to get everyone evacuated. The only problem was, everyone there had cars. The cars stayed at the Lodge for six more weeks while they bulldozed and dynamited a new creek bed and road. Funny thing: most of the cars were rentals. Can you imagine the bills those tourists had to pay after that escapade?

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A view of the Paris, Las Vegas resort from across the street at the Bellagio, with that resort’s lake in the foreground  So, what did we do on day two in Las Vegas?

We had lunch at Emeril’s in the MGM Grand. It was scrumptious. I’m not a very big fan of his (at least I don’t like his cooking show style) but I thought the food was outstanding. We relied on the server to tell us what to order – my DH had scallops with an Asian cabbage and mushroom side vegetable. I ordered their (fish) Pan Roast with shrimp jambalaya. The pan roast was delicious mahi-mahi and shrimp, both highly seasoned and blackened. Then the server said we just had to order the banana cream pie. Moi? Oh, yea. I did. She told us it takes over 20 bananas to make a whole pie, and over 18 hours to make. Haven’t yet figured out how or why so many, but I ate most of it myself. DH had a few bites, but I’m guilty of eating way too much of it. Outstanding, and worth ordering again.

Took the east-side monorail from one end to the other.

Took a nap

Went to the Bellagio to watch the water show (three times)

Had dinner at Circo (pronounced cher-co), a Mediterranean upscale restaurant in the Bellagio. Overlooks the lake so we got to see the water show more times. After my big lunch I wasn’t all that hungry, but we both managed to eat a light dinner. A nice green salad with a bagna cauda dressing. I ordered the restaurant’s signature dish, ravioli stuffed with goat cheese, Swiss chard, and swimming in a delicious sage and butter sauce. My DH ordered a rabbit dish stuffed with sausage and the same salad. He ordered dessert this time – a bowl of four scoops of gelato. That I probably wouldn’t order again (I had a few bites), but the rest of the meal was worth every penny. The restaurant is pricey, no question, but we had window seats and the service was impeccable.

Then, the highlight of the day, we attended the show O at the Bellagio. It’s the Cirque de Soleil that’s been playing there for about 10 years. Amazing. Spectacular effects with a huge pool. Most of the performers swim – some of it synchronized, some acrobatics. It was fabulous. We had 2nd row seats – well worth the extra cost. And then we walked back to our hotel – about 3/4 of a mile or so (we felt virtuous, like we’d walked off all those calories we consumed today).

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I spotted you as I walked by in the casino yesterday. You were dressed up in the kind of 4th of July garb my mother was fond of. She was a lucky gambler. She would walk up and down a few aisles to find just the right one with red, white and blue embellishments on your face. You were a 25 cent machine. Not up there with the high rollers, but certainly not the low-lifers like your nickel friends. My mother was very circumspect about having a relationship with any of your kind before she’d even spend a few minutes in your company. So, as you sat there blinking your lights at me, I wasn’t sure, but I mentally communed with my mother before I decided to sit down and begin a relationship with you. I carefully removed just one single dollar bill from my wallet. No going out on a limb with someone until you know them better. I thought I’d invest just that much before you and I had any further congress.

So, with trepidation I decided to just barely put my toe in the water, giving you a mere quarter to spin your sparkly rolls. My husband was standing beside me for this venture, to make sure I didn’t do anything too rash. I pushed the button. Up came a 7. Another 7. Oh, and yet another 7. Your lights went into overdrive. You voice went into a giggle of tinkling tones. I think you were very excited about having me converse with you. Were you trying to impress me? Or lure me?

So what did you do? You just handed me $20. Just like that! You must not have liked the last friend you had and you hoarded your loot. I just sat there, staring at you – looking deep into your eyes. Trying to see your soul. I couldn’t quite tell what you were thinking, though. I wasn’t sure. My mother gave me a sign. You see, she knew you better than I do. She said take it and run. I did.

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A bit of family trivia: my mother, who died in 1997, bless her soul, loved to gamble. She maybe visited Las Vegas once or twice a year. Originally it was the penny machines she and my dad played. Finally she moved up to the nickel machines and won. Then she really moved uptown to the quarter machines. They were her favorite, I think. She and my Dad played Keno too. She won regularly. Now, I’m not talking big money here. But on her last trip to Las Vegas (my Dad had died earlier that year, and my DH and I brought her here in 1996) she won several hundred dollars. She wanted so much for me to enjoy the slots as much as she did. She’d hand me $20 here and there to keep me playing. The $50 I’d “given” myself to play disappeared in a flash. On one trip I recall she won about $1,000. She got this cute grin on her face when she’d tell the story. I knew she kept her gambling winnings in a little bag in her lingerie drawer. After my mother died in 1997, some friends of mine came to help me sort through all the stuff. Darlene came to find me with a small drawstring cloth bag in her hand. She said, “Carolyn, I found this in one of the drawers.” Sure enough, there was about $500 in the bag – bills and whole dollar coins. I cried. It was just waiting for her next trip. Thanks, Mom. So far I’ve only invested a quarter of it.

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The back side of the Strip, through tinted windows of our hotel, The Signature. We’re on the east side of the Strip between Harmon and Tropicana Streets, fyi.

So, as I announced yesterday, we’re on a road trip. First stop: Las Vegas, where we haven’t been in 12 years. Oh, how it’s changed. The Strip is just jammed with people and cars (on the surface, no sign of a recession here!). We checked into The Signature, a lovely non-gambling hotel that’s connected to the MGM Grand. Our neighbors own two units in this sort-of resort. Don’t know exactly how it works – if they reserve their unit (a small suite), as their guests we can stay in it very inexpensively. About half the going price. Nice. It’s a beautiful suite (with a small kitchen, even) and sitting area. When our neighbors aren’t using it, the hotel rents it out.

On recommendation from Rachel, a good friend who comes here a lot more often than we do, we ate lunch at Wolfgang Puck’s Bar & Grill in the MGM Grand. I didn’t take pictures (sorry), but my DH had Wolf’s own pork bratwurst with mashed potatoes and cooked red cabbage. I had a lamb Panini with couscous. Both dishes were delicious, per our respective mmm’s. My DH enjoys his Diet Coke a lot. They refilled his glass twice. $10.50, thank you. I had two glasses. That was $7.00. Total bill for lunch $64.00. Now we know to savor the first glass and forget the refills. Naturally, they didn’t mention the extra charge. Our lunches were $22 (his) and $16 (mine). It was a bit of a hike to get there, too. My DH, who is a double amputee, can walk about half a mile without any difficulty, but more than that and his legs begin to hurt. So after lunch and walking out to Las Vegas Blvd, we exited stage left and returned to our room for a little rest! A very helpful MGM Grand employee told us how to return to the hotel and bypass most of the casino portion, by way of a shortcut.

Last night we went to see Stomp Out Loud, the show that is “music” by odd instruments like metal trash can lids, plastic and metal trash cans, push brooms, sticks, boxes filled with noise-making pellets, whisk brooms and shovels. We saw Stomp many years ago and just loved it. This one, Stomp Out Loud, is a special show created just for Las Vegas. It was so unbelievably fun and entertaining. The actors (musicians cum dancers cum drummers), do a lot of moving around the stage (dancing, jumping, running and stamping of their feet) with their oddball instruments, banging them in every which way possible to create the rhythm and the show. The oddest “song,” if you will, was done with flexible rubber hoses. Depending on the length of the hose, and diameter, when it’s popped on the floor, it makes a tone. The lead dancer/drummer of the show (probably in his 30’s) got a scholarship in drumming at the University of Nevada. I didn’t know they HAD degrees in drum, let alone that somebody would fork up a scholarship for one. He was SO good at it, though. He was a master at creating music and rhythm with clapping, slapping and hitting his chest and legs. With the exception of a few grunts, “eh’s” and one or two “oi’s” there was no speaking for the entire performance. Amazing. All the performers were slim and trim (they get a good cardio workout in every performance!). If you’ve never seen any of the Stomp shows, I highly recommend it. Until I did a search just now, I didn’t know they had a DVD out (not of the show but other similar Stomp acts). If you click here, you’ll go to YouTube – watch part of one, and there are other similar videos down the right side of the YouTube screen. If you don’t know anything about rhythm and music made in such ways, you’ll be wildly entertained. The show plays in its own theater in Planet Hollywood, just a few blocks from our hotel.

Today we’re going to explore a bit more – maybe I’ll take a walk on my own. I definitely want to see the outdoor water show at the Bellagio. Because of going to Stomp Out Loud, we didn’t go out to dinner, but after the show we went to Yolo, a little restaurant and bar in Planet Hollywood and ordered freshly made guacamole and house-made chips. That was “dinner” and it hit the spot. By looking at the menus, dinner prices are off the charts expensive. Years and years ago we used to do the buffets here in Las Vegas, and Lake Tahoe (my mother and father were huge fans of buffet restaurants), but we eat too much. So we swore off of them long ago.

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So, I was reading the blog post over at Accidental Hedonist, and immediately I was transported to about 1965. Allow me to set the stage  . . . I was about 23 years old. My first husband was an officer in the U.S. Navy (air). His air group was deployed on a carrier, and we’d made plans for me to travel for several months from country to country in Asia as I followed the ship around from port to port. It was my first international trip. I was a totally inexperienced traveler, besides being on my own abroad. The Vietnam War intervened, but I decided to continue the journey, even if I spent more time alone. First I went to Japan for a couple of months, and then on to the Philippines, where I met up with two other wives.The carrier carried on, and the three of us wives went to Hong Kong, a few days before a monsoon started, as part of our around-Asia special airline ticket. We stayed at the Hong Kong Hilton.

Let me just say that the two other wives were far more worldly than I. They’d both been PanAm stewardesses for some years before marrying their pilot husbands. I was (and am) a relatively shy-type not given much to reveling and drinking much alcohol, nor dancing with men I didn’t know (or even men I did know except my then husband). So, upon our arrival in Hong Kong, the other two wanted cocktails and dancing; I wanted some dinner and sleep. They went to the sky bar and I went to the small cafe near the lobby.

As the only occupant in the small cafe, I received exemplary service. I tried to understand the menu. It was in Chinese with just a few minimal words in English, German and a couple of other languages. Nothing appealed to me much, but there was this one spaghetti dish. The word bolognese was in it and I knew I’d seen that in Italian restaurants. The other word I didn’t recognize. But, it was quite inexpensive. So I ordered it. With great anticipation, the dish arrived and I dug in. Ewwwwh! It was chicken liver sauce on pasta. It was horrid. I tried a second bite of just the pasta I could manage to extract from the sticky, grainy sauce. Nope, it wouldn’t go down. Being on a very strict budget, I couldn’t order something else. I pushed the food around, drank some ice water and didn’t know what to say to the waiter when he came to my table and pointed at my plate, asking questions in what he thought was English. I couldn’t understand anything he said. I was too embarrassed to try to explain with more pointing or making screwed-up ugly faces.  I ate the saltine crackers on the table, and drank a second glass of water. Back then I was still testing the waters, so to speak, of international travel. I was very sensitive to my inability to speak the language.  Today I’d be in a financial position, thankfully, of saying I’ll order something else and do my level best to smile a lot and be pleasant. Do you have any similar experiences? I’d love to hear about them – leave a comment – click the link below. So, my advice: if you don’t understand a menu in a foreign country, ask questions.

Graphic at top created at www.wordle.net

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A few shots from a very fun weekend in San Francisco. My daughter, Dana, has not, in previous decades, been all that interested in traveling. She WANTS to travel, but leaving home and hearth gives her a bit of trepidation. She has been to New York and Philadelphia (when her brother graduated from Wharton School with his MBA), Hawaii (family vacation we planned), Baja California (on a cruise) and Seattle (another family trip we did). I lured her out this time by offering her a trip to San Francisco for a mother-daughter “bonding weekend,” I called it. I packed the calendar with activities from the moment we arrived until we left mid-afternoon yesterday.

We actually met in Berkeley on Friday night at Chez Panisse. I think this is the 4th time I’ve been there now. It was delicious, as usual. Then we parked my daughter’s car at one of the BART (rapid transit) stations in Oakland and whisked on over (under the Bay) to the city late that evening.

We stayed at a hotel near Union Square (Hotel Rex – okay, not exceptional, rooms are a little tired), used the cable cars many, many times, to get from there to the Embarcadero, the marina area and Columbus Circle. They are just so fun to ride. I never tire of the cable cars.

They’ve re-done the Square (a good thing) and it’s now a teeming center of activity. A concert was a-happening as we left yesterday.

Uh – not one of the glamour shots of the century, but we were having lots of fun here. This was with the Segway Electric Tour Company. These things are just the greatest. I took a segway tour in Paris two years ago – one of the most fun things I’ve ever done, IMHO. This time it was with about 16 others, and we toodled all over the wharf, North Beach and the Embarcadero area. They have several tours (about $70 each, online), including an advanced one that goes down Lombard Street (wheeeee), and a nightime one too, all about 2 1/2 to 3 hours long, including at least 45 minutes of training. We did the beginner’s because my daughter hadn’t ever done this before.

We also went to see Beach Blanket Babylon, a very funny, corny musical revue with garish costumes and comedy. Very entertaining. Might not have been my first choice of something to do, but knew my daughter would like it. Indeed she did.

Yesterday we had a lunch tea (Tea for Two, they call it) at the Leland Tea House about 8 blocks from Union Square. I chose it because it’s a more casual atmosphere than some of the starched tablecloth kind of establishments that serve afternoon tea in the area. The tea and food were delicious. I’d go back there. All the food is made on premises, fresh every day.

We really didn’t go to San Francisco for the food, although we certainly ate well enough. We had lunch on Saturday at Castagnola’s in North Beach. Right on the wharf. Food was really quite good, although overpriced. The waitress steered us to choices that were out of the mainstream for tourists (i.e., she said no on clam chowder, lobster wontons and fish and chips). The food was actually better than I would have expected (we had calamari, oysters rockefeller, caesar salads, and copious amounts of sourdough bread and butter from Boudin). We had dinner at an old-time Union Square restaurant called Sears Fine Food. Nothing remarkable, but good, plus we got in and out there in time to get to the theater.

Yesterday we did the tea thing, some shopping, took the BART from the city to Oakland. Then it was time for tearful goodbyes as I flew south and Dana drove back to her home in Placerville, about 2 hours away. Dana had a great time. (That’s progress.)

My DH spent the weekend on our boat in San Diego, took our other daughter and her family plus a group of their friends out sailing for several hours on Saturday, then took some other friends sailing yesterday. He drove north just in time to pick me up at the airport last night.

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The breakfast omelet with goat cheese and rosemary.

At least a couple of times a year my DH and I drive up to the Central Coast. That’s the term to describe the area along the California coastline and somewhat inland, starting at the southern end at Santa Barbara and ending up north near Templeton and Paso Robles. We’ve been enjoying that area for several years. The scenery is beautiful. Rolling and gentle hills. Covered in grassy green in the spring and summer months, but still full of character during the winter months with scraggly oak trees everywhere.

Our interest in the Central Coast began when we started wine tasting there at least 20 years ago. It was a relatively unknown area then, and the few wineries that existed were start-ups with very primitive structures serving as wine tasting rooms. But as the years have gone by, more and more wineries have opened, some with lots of money behind them, showing off fancy wine tasting rooms, tours, gift shops, etc. Others are still back in the 80’s, so to speak, with fairly lightweight tasting rooms, with more charm than the high style monied ones. DH loves to find some of the unknowns in the area, so we sometimes drive the back roads looking for new signs.

We began signing up for automatic shipments of wines from some of these wineries. Usually we get a package from each of them every 3 months, mostly reds, because that’s what we prefer to drink. The Central Coast makes some wonderful Pinot Noir (Pinots are the specialty of the Central Coast), Zinfandel, even some Chardonnay. One year we heard about one winery called Stephen Ross. DH searched him out and for several years we participated in Steve’s barrel adopter’s contract. For a fee you “buy” the right to sign a barrel, and you receive two cases of wine from the current vintage and a beautiful sit-down dinner at the winery too. Plus the ability to buy additional wine at a good discount. The dinners are a very fun event, lots of very good food and plenty of wine to go around.

DH subscribes to wines from FoxenVilla Creek, and Eberle. He tries others, and drops some off his list after a year or so, then adds new ones. We were particularly enamored with Villa Creek when we went to their restaurant in downtown Paso Robles last year. They offered a wonderful flight of their own wines with dinner, that was exceedingly reasonable. And we were very impressed with the dinner as well.

So, whenever we’re up in that area, we generally plunk ourselves down in a central place and take a couple of half days to go either north or south. We’re particularly fond of San Luis Obispo. The town itself is very quaint, with lots of fine restaurants, even some fun shopping.

Our friends, Cherrie and Bud (Cherrie, my cooking classes friend you’ve heard about here) told us about this bed and breakfast, and we’ve been staying there ever since, sometimes with them along too. If we can get in. The owners of the Bridge Creek Inn, Sally & Gene Kruger, are just the nicest people you’d ever want to know. We feel like they’re friends since we’ve been there so many times. Sally is a very good cook, and makes everyone welcome during the social hour when she offers local wines and appetizers to guests. Sometimes Gene is there too, as well as other guests. And Sally serves a lovely breakfast too, with the goat cheese and rosemary omelet one of her signature breakfast. They have a jacuzzi tub, a walking trail, and the location just can’t be beat. It’s way out of town, on a gentle country road, on a scenic 10-acre plot, with a fantastic view (see below) where you hear nothing but an occasional moo from a cow nearby, or a mew from one of the resident cats, Charlie or Tiger Lily.

I know a lot of people who read my blog aren’t interested in California travel, but if you ARE, I highly recommend the Bridge Creek Inn to anyone. San Luis Obispo is a perfect halfway spot when you’re driving from Southern to Northern California. It’s about 15 miles from the ocean, so enjoys lovely breezes in the heat of summer. Sally is very helpful and knowledgeable about activities in the area – she made dinner reservations for us on this trip at The Garden in Avila. We celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary at the Bridge Creek. Very fun. Sally keeps right on top of the latest and newest eateries. Thanks, Sally, for another lovely stay at the Inn.
The sign out on the road at the Bridge Creek.

The house of Bridge Creek B & B.

I could sit for hours with my cup of coffee staring out at this view from the deck at the Bridge Creek.

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Highway 1, near Big Sur, with the unique Cypress trees that grace that area of California.

We who live in California often take its majestic beauty for granted. We’re used to the jokes made about the crazy people who live here, about our healthy food habits and our dislike for cigarette smoke. And about the air pollution in Los Angeles, the risk of earthquakes, and the occasional mudslide that can destroy homes in about 3 seconds. Oh yes, the fires. Those too. And the fact that we’re very spread out, so there’s little or no rapid transit in this state. We all insist on driving cars everywhere. But if you take all that out of the equation, we’re left with some spectacular scenery, unlike any other place on this earth. We have Mt. Whitney, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Redwoods way up north, plus just the incredible awe of the city of San Francisco. We have really big mountain ranges from north to south, including nine (yes, NINE) national parks, countless state parks and beach preserves.

In the south, we have more mountain ranges, deserts (actually southern California is mostly desert land, but because we hydrate it, it’s become more like one big oasis), the Salton Sea and Death Valley.

It isn’t often that anyone who lives here drives Highway 1, though. It actually goes from the Mexican border to Oregon, but when we Californians talk about “Highway 1” we’re usually referring to a section of it that goes from Morro Bay, about mid-state to Carmel. It’s about 100+ miles of very curvy, torturous roads. Takes about 3-4 hours, depending on traffic. People driving on this road are mostly tourists, there just to soak in the vistas. Or the myriad of people who actually live along that coast. Every time I’ve driven the road I wonder about these people who live there – what do they do for a living, so far from civilization (they probably like that aspect of it), how often they go to the grocery store (not often, I’d guess), or how they manage not having a restaurant nearby to go out to dinner once in awhile (there are almost zip-zero-nada restaurants along this stretch of road).

We headed south from Monterey. The day was absolutely perfect. Sky a sunshiny blue, water perfectly clear. No wind. Temps in the 50’s. The plu-perfect day to drive Highway 1. We stopped often to take some pictures.

South of Big Sur.

Don’t fall! That’s a couple of hundred feet down there. You can’t see them, but there are hundreds of sea lions swimming all over this stretch of rocky shore. They were  cavorting and barking to beat the band.

Just one look UP rather than down.

And one short glance back toward the north.

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The town of Rothenburg (row-ten-burg) is along the Romantic Road in southern Germany, just north of Austria. One of the days on our cruise in November, we had almost an entire day there. It was cold. Bone-chilling cold, actually. I was bundled up in everything I had with me – scarf around my neck, gloves, raincoat and a sweater. I wandered the streets of town, which was great fun. DH and I had been to the town before on one driving trip many years ago. Stayed just outside the city walls at a cute country inn. There are lots of shopping opportunities in Rothenburg, I can tell you that. There were hundreds and hundreds of tourists in the town that day. Aisles were crowded. But on my way back out of the village, just outside the walls, I looked off at this pretty pastoral scene. The path just invited me to wander. The city wall is on the left, with the attached gate houses. If you ever get to Rothenburg, forget the shopping. Walk the walls, walk the parks (there are several) and be sure to have some local sausages. I posted a picture of the famous Rothenburg sausages when we were there. Oh, so good.

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