this land, part ii

We knew we had crossed into Kentucky when the green became tidier, with short grass neatly delineated by bright white fences, behind which grazed herds of horses. Once upon a time, when everyone everywhere was raising horses, it was remarked that Kentucky's were the biggest and strongest of all. The soil beneath its blue grass was rich in calcium, and an industry was born. Such pretty countryside.

Dinner was gumbo and jambalaya (jam to the regulars), followed by a slice of authentic derby pie and a pillaging of Anthropologie (everything on sale, in my size...we were definitely not in NYC). Fed and clothed, our thoughts turned to shelter. We spoke with a nice B&B owner via telephone who, without so much as a name or credit card number, told us to let ourselves in, grab a bottle of bourbon from the bar, and make ourselves at home in his house. He and the wife were going to a movie. Did I mention we are not in NYC anymore?

The next morning, at Keeneland, Lexington's famous racetrack, we ate with the horse owners and track operators and got a glimpse of a jockey, thrilling in his miniature muscularity, sporting a jaunty cap and uniform. We tucked into excellent pancakes, biscuits with gravy, and eggs and bacon, undaunted by the portion sizes and relishing the price tag of $2.75 per person.

There was a failed attempt to get the kids pony rides at the Kentucky Horse Park, and then off we went toward St. Louis, though not before Townsie learned what a horsie says. Neigh.

We thought that we would stop in Louisville for lunch. So glad we did. Its NuLu neighborhood was one of those gems that we always hope to find as we wander off into unknown (to us) parts of this country. Cool little shops,  inventive design, amazing food. If you should find yourself in Louisville, don't miss the best Mexican cuisine of your life at Mayan Cafe. Chef Bruce Ucan is a genius

A few images from the street...

Wikipedia kept us company across Indiana and Illinois, allowing us to probe the histories of the small towns and weather phenomena we encountered along the way. East St. Louis provided a particularly good read. Crazy how each place has its own story, its own reasons for existence, its own successes and failures.

We did our best in St. Louis--went to a hip local restaurant, tried the farmers market--but it was not quite our town, beyond the Whole Foods and the view of the arch from our hotel window, reminding us that St. Louis is the Gateway to the West. We downloaded The Diaries of Adam and Eve, translated by Mark Twain from Audible for the road. Westward, ho!