Manchester Vermont

So we escaped Stowe before the forecast snow really got going and headed down the roads of Vermont towards Manchester, through the late autumn foliage. As I said earlier, we were clearly too late for the best of the autumnal colours, but it was still very pretty.

So we are happily going along the highway when we see a removal van. American style. Not removing the contents of a house, but the whole house. Now in England you might be a bit annoyed about getting stuck behind a tractor, but in New England you can get stuck behind this thing. And as you can imagine, overtaking ain't easy. Its long. And unnervingly, every now and then a little bit would come off.. Mostly just wrapping material, but....

However, eventually we made it to our destination in Manchester. Now, there are many Manchesters in New England, although just the one in Vermont. But, this was supposed to be the best one,  Now unlike our other hotels, the Inn at Manchester. wasn't a big resort or hotel but a guest house really. Only has about a dozen bedrooms spread across a large old house. But plenty of character.

So we parked up and headed in to see what we got.

We had the attic effectively, but it was perfectly decent as rooms go.

But what made this the best place we stayed in was the downstairs reception areas and the socialising that it brought. This is the opposite of an organised modern purpose built hotel. It felt more like a big club. Nice comfortable lounges, and a bar attached to the hotel office with an open door so the host could leap from his office if someone came into the bar and proffer a drink.

So this was a the easiest place we found to socialise. Before we set off to dinner we had a drink in the bar and then retired to the lounge and just chatted with the other guests. Mostly about the weather, but weather US style. You know how we talk about the weather, complaining about the rain? Well they describe how they are cut off from all supplies for a week as the power lines come down in the snowstorms. Much more entertaining. And we had another nice chat over an ample breakfast the next morning. The staff were lovely. Altogether a great experience. Possibly the only place we stayed at that made one really enjoy the residence.

Not that Manchester isn't itself a nice town, and the Inn was right close to everything (not that there is too much). But more of that anon. 

First we decided to head up to the Skyline Drive, a toll road which goes up the Equinox Mountain. Supposed to be one of the most scenic drives in Vermont, it was quite fun for Thibault driving up this ever twisting road, and for me getting out for some scenic photos. After a while Thibault just left me to get out on my own; it was seriously cold and Thibault doesn't seem to do cold. Bizarrely the mountain is owned by an order of monks. At the top used to be a modernist hotel, but all you can see of it now are the photos in the nondescript visitor centre that replaced it when it was demolished. Presumably people became less attracted by its remoteness. And, we can certainly testify to how cold it was, especially at the exposed ridge.

This is the monastery that owns the toll road, bequeathed by the former owner of the mountain.

After the mountain road we visited the main tourist attraction in the area, Lincoln's mansion, Hildene.

Now when  I say Lincoln, I don't mean Abraham Lincoln, but his son Robert. Not a president, but a lawyer. Which did make Thibault and I think, as lawyers, how you  can earn enough to build a mansion, when a 4 bedroomed hose in a London suburb is as much as we could aspire to. It seems that the name of his father opened lots of doors, but that once he got through them, he was actually a very effective worker. And one of the doors that opened was becoming president of the Pullman train company.

Anyway, the Georgian revival mansion is very attractive, and so is the setting. We had house envy. Unfortunately we arrived shortly after a tour group of US OAPs, or we would have had the whole place almost to ourselves. Now US OAPs aren't like British ones. They are loud. While a UK group would have been almost silent, suckling furiously on boiled sweets, this lot gabbled away. But it didn't distract too much from the experience, and the room attendants were pleasant and informative. There were also enough in the way of exhibits upstairs that one could learn more about the Civil War, even if all that predated the house. They also have one of Abraham's stovepipe hats, just so there is something to show of the more famous Lincoln.

The formal gardens would no doubt be more attractive in summer, but they certainly afforded a fine view across the countryside.

 From the house we then piled down to the single Pullman train carriage they had moved up here, given the links of Robert to the Pullman train company. This was a far more worthwhile experience than one might think. Not only is the carriage beautiful and ingenious in design, but the exhibition around it explained a lot of the history. So did you know that that working on the trains was pretty much the best job that African Americans post slavery could aspire to? And that the stewards on these trains were some of the wealthiest blacks in America in the earlier part of the 20th century, not because of the wages, but because of the generous tips of the rich white travellers? There would probably have been few opportunities for black and white to mix, but here was a position where they could, and the travellers could see, and show their appreciation for, the (very) hard work put in by the black service personnel.

So all in all, Hildene was well worth the visit.While Thibault took a rest from driving etc (these young folks have no stamina) I went for a walk around town with my camera in the early evening. It was very nice, even though I had to wrap up warm. Blue skies would have been prettier.

In the UK this would be purveyors of fine wines. Here, its guns.

A very American thing are the election campaign signs on the lawns

 

 So that just left dinner. We went to the Silver Fork, which is a tiny restaurant - just half a dozen tables all occupied. But they also allowed you to eat at the bar, which for the two of us was just fine. Instead of an evening staring into Thibault's cold serial killer eyes, I could gaze at the fine selection of gins they had. This was a fine dining experience and it was very fine dining. And like the Inn we were staying at, had that personal feel over the efficient factory-like catering that we become ever more accustomed to.

Bye bye Manchester.