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| A super-sophisticated Morton family vacation. |
This year at Easter, the Morton family was blessed to have coinciding breaks. To take advantage, we decided to find an out-of-the-way vacation spot and explore its cultural riches together. We relented to the Dictator's ceaseless demands that we go to Frankenmuth "right away." My mother was also able to accompany us and we procured private transportation, making the short, pleasant journey in about an hour's time. We made my mom let us use her CRV, we all crammed inside (guess who got the back seat wedged between the Anarchist and the Dictator?), the Bureaucrat drove in the torrential rain, and I tried to remain calm as tiny elbows and pages of coloring books smacked me in the face and arms.
We selected a quaint location, away from major urban centers and renowned for its many cultural distinctions (highest concentration of Lutherans outside of Germany or A Prairie Home Companion, most buttered noodles per capita, major pilgrimage site of the Red Hat Society).
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| Guess who this bus brought to town? |
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| Answer: A big ol' colorful load of these folks. Awesome. |
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| What displaced Lutheran Bavarians do to pass the time. |
We decided to immediately sample the local fare at a corner bistro (family style fried chicken and buttered noodles served by a lady in a German lady costume). We had a light meal, as we planned a hike and a swim in the local springs later that evening. I totally polished of, like, three or four bowls of buttered noodles and mashed potatoes all by myself, managed to toddle out to the car to drive the 0.5 miles back to the hotel where I promptly forced everyone to either nap or watch Nickelodeon before swimming in one of the three or four Bavarian-themed hotel pools, complete with water guns.
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| Morbid Childhood Obesity-inducing fried goodness. |
After a short rest, the family explored the beautiful grounds of the hotel, the sparkling river, weeping willows, and rolling hills. My mother, and the Anarchist--who,thinking I was too lame to be her mother any longer, had adopted my mother as her mother--went outside and ran around on the balcony for twenty minutes while the Dictator drew and watched Dora the Explorer, the Bureaucrat made big plans, and I continued to nap, buried in a happy lump under hotel covers.
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| On the hotel grounds, subtle details abound. |
As we dressed for the springs (hotel pool with water guns), we made time to enjoy the local color, evidenced in the architecture and history of the hotel room. Tammi Ann, Terri Ann, and Pammi Ann Popp, decked out in their finest '80's attire, grinned mad 80's grins at us, while some super-haunted looking pictures of a couple of elderly, turn-of-the-century Popps made ominous faces at us from the walls of our "Popp family themed" hotel room. The room's designer was clever in carrying the 80's motif from the Tammi/Terri/Pammi Ann picture throughout the room. Classy.
In an area renowned for its beauty and health(y portions of fried things), swimming was really a lovely experience. All of us took to the spring to renew our youth and vibrancy. The Dictator made a careful ritual out of a detailed "swimming" circuit. The Anarchist sat on the water fountains and pretended that it was "pee pee." The Bureaucrat was an ever-attentive father. My mother was an ever-attentive grandmother. I desperately tried to keep my hair dry, suck my stomach in, and hide my super-pasty legs from sight.
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| The Anarchist, inspired by our room's theme, strikes an '80s glamor pose in her new swimsuit. Just call her Anarchist Ann. |
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| It really doesn't get any classier than this. |
After dinner, we headed to the theater to take in an edgy, ironic, post-modern satire of contemporary society. The girls went down a slide a bajillion times, rode a Bob the Builder coin-operated truck, played games with a terrifying resemblance to slot machines, played Whack-a-Mole (okay, I played Whack-a-Mole...I'm pretty darned good, too...lots of pent up aggression), ski ball, and the like.
The following morning we began with a refreshing pre-breakfast dip in the spring. The Bureaucrat threatened to get me out of bed by farting on me. I stumbled into my swimsuit, terribly conscious of my ever-growing pre-shower leg stubble. We swam in the pools for about 20 minutes, and it was actually not as awful of an idea as I thought it would be. My mother somehow found a way of remaining out of the water for the duration of this little early morning dip. Smart cookie, that one.
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| Please do me the courtesy of squinting when you look at this photograph, so that you won't notice my abundant leg stubble. Thank you. |
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| About to straddle it for maximum "pee pee"faking realism. |
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| The Dictator makes her obsessive rounds in the pool. |
Breakfast was at a small, out-of-the-way cafe, where we ordered crepes (pancakes and banana bread french toast), frothy cappuccinos (black hotel coffee), and delectable omelets (yup). Oh, and there were potato cheese dumplings, did I mention the potato cheese dumplings? Because there were potato cheese dumplings, which really complete a light, post-German-food-gluttony breakfast. Mmmm...
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The remainder of our trip was spent exploring the unique boutiques and galleries of the downtown area, which was decorated tastefully for the Easter season. We definitely went to the Cheese Haus to sample various cheese dips, look at personalized shot glasses and fantasize about what we might look like in that "Everything I need to know, I learned in jail" t-shirt.
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| The Bureaucrat admires a tasteful Easter decoration. |
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| The Bureaucrat and the Anarchist become a tasteful Easter decoration. The Dictator was "never going to do anything but go to the car, ever again!" Hence her absence. |
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| Upside down Christmas trees festooned with plastic eggs and yellow ribbon. Hands down winner of the Classiest Easter Decor award. |
1 comment:
Great account of our highbrow trip! I enjoyed every tacky minute of it! :)
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