This is a rest area in New Hampshire. We wanted to stop at the Mount Washington Hotel for lunch, so we asked at the tourist information desk here for directions. Well, you can imagine what those directions were: keep heading west and you can't miss it. They were right -- it's hard to miss. It's also hard to visit, as their parking was all under construction. We were being really careful about having Mimi in the car, so with no shady parking we regretfully turned around and kept going until we found a lovely coffee shop with outdoor seating and yummy vegan food. Mimi was allowed to sit with us, and it was a lovely shady spot. And even better: the Mini Cooper that had been so visibly annoyed because I don't drive as fast as I used to, and which had stopped at the same coffee shop, didn't "accidentally" side-swipe us as it was leaving the parking lot!
The spa was great though -- I had an energy realignment "massage," which turned out to be one of those odd admixtures of reiki and some other stuff involving scooping up the air over the client's prone form and sending all the bad juju someplace else. I might have scoffed but for two facts. First, I really enjoyed Ananda Willow (nee Nancy Wright), a woman around the same age as me with a fascinating backstory, starting with how she got that name. Second, I think the massage was having some effect on my subconscious, seeing as how tears were streaming out of the corners of my eyes the entire time. I felt perfectly fine chatting with Ananda Willow, but some part of me was crying!
We're still learning about travel with a dog. One thing we've figured out is that it doesn't hurt to ask. We were in Ambler, PA the other day and we asked at a bar/restaurant if we and Mimi could eat in the alley (which was set up with tables and already had a foursome of young thirtysomething women, one of whom was showing off her newborn). The woman bartender I asked seemed doubtful but finally relented. It turned out to be a huge success. Mimi was very well behaved, the waitress was charmed ("I don't like dogs, but yours is cute," she exclaimed), the bartender even came out to meet the dog that the waitress had been raving about.
But I was a bit startled when I went to the ladies' room to see a poster up for the "Dog Days of August," an Ambler festival for dogs. A parade, prizes for the best behaved dog, the dog that looks like its owner, etc., and in small print, "dog-friendly dining at select area restaurants." I gotta figure this place was one of those restaurants. Did the bartender not know that her place of business had touted itself as "dog-friendly"?
I tipped very generously, partly because the food had been cheap and partly so that the next time someone wants to eat there with a dog, the staff will think, "Big tippers!"
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