I’ve spent less time in Vermont than any other New England state, and had never traveled north of The Vermont Country Store in Weston. To rectify that, Steve and I recently visited Burlington over a long weekend. The city’s Church Street Marketplace (above) was bustling on a near-perfect Saturday afternoon.
At one end of Church Street there’s (naturally) a church: the First Unitarian Universalist Society of Burlington, built in 1816.
We had an excellent lunch at El Cortijo Taqueria, a Mexican joint housed in a 1950s boxcar diner just off the Marketplace on Bank St. The sort of place one would expect to find in New Mexico rather than Vermont, each table had plastic squeeze bottles of red and green chiles; the side of roasted potatoes are among the best I’ve ever tasted.
On the other end of the Marketplace (opposite the church), I immediately recognized Nectar’s as the venue Phish played in their early days and later referenced on their 1991 album A Picture of Nectar (yes, I was a fan (if not a full-on Phishhead) briefly in college.)
Although it has a few vacancies here and there, the mall on the whole is vibrant, made even more so by the occasional colorful mural (such as this one on Leahy Way) and public artworks.
On Sunday, we drove east to Stowe Mountain Resort.
Primarily a ski haven, in the off season, one can still pay to take a gondola ride to the top of Mount Mansfield.
Years have passed since we’ve been at such a high elevation–the last time was nearly a decade ago at Rocky Mountain National Park.
The view from the top – elevation 4,393 feet, according to the location determined by one of my Instagram posts from here.
Another view. While not as mighty as the Rocky Mountains, the Green Mountains are spectacular in their own right (and undeniably green.)
Assuming that this is a ski path–I’ve only gone cross-country skiing before, so I can just imagine the thrill (and terror) of traveling down this at rapid speed.
Pine trees, fluffy white clouds and expansive blue skies–what more does one need?
How about the Cliff House restaurant? Currently open only for lunch, we did not partake though I’ll bet it’s cozy in the winter. We could hear an assortment of 70s/80s soft rock standards wafting through the air from its direction, including “You Light Up My Life” which I haven’t encountered in the wild in at least three decades.
Waffles were also available, albeit without Cliff House-style views.
Monday, on our way home, we stopped for lunch in Montpelier, about 40 miles east of Burlington. The smallest state capital in the country, it’s an immensely charming little town.
Lunch was at Sarducci’s, a popular Italian place with a covered porch offering views of the Winooski River.
The Winooski runs through Montpelier, affording plenty of opportunities for photographers.
Flood The Streets With Art, an event celebrating the one-year anniversary of the Montpelier Flood, had to be rescheduled due to some additional flooding the week before. It would never occur to me to plant flowers in rubber boots, but it’s kind of an ingenuous idea.
I have no notes or complains about the “Sidewalk Buttlers” present throughout downtown Montpelier.
I also always encourage front doors painted in a variety of bright, bold colors.
Down the block from the second picture of the Winooski River above, this ancient corner building caught my eye: quintessential small town, working class New England.
Before signing off, let’s go back to this sunset from Friday night, taken at a supermarket parking lot in suburban Williston near our hotel. While in my opinion Vermont doesn’t offer as much variety as Maine or coastal Massachusetts, I knew the longer trip up from Boston was worth it once I saw this tableaux with New York’s Adirondack Mountains in the background.
Haunted Jukebox 