Saint Paul Winter Carnival

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The story of how the Saint Paul Winter Carnival in Minnesota came to be depends on your source.

One story says the Saint Paul Winter Carnival was started to celebrate the city’s boom from 39,000 residents in 1880 to 120,000 residents just six years later, in 1886.

The most popular story claims the business leaders of Saint Paul wanted to disprove a New York newspaper reporter who had described their beloved city as “another Siberia, unfit for human habitation in the winter.” This is my favorite version because if true, Saint Paul  created one of the most all-out unique experiences for Minnesotans to snub the reporter’s claims. Today Winter Carnival is a combination of winter sports, mystic lore and odd contests that make the event something close to winter mardi gras.

Celebrating 125 years, the Saint Paul Winter Carnival kicked off over a beautiful, crisp weekend. I went out with my iPhone set to the Hiptamatic app to capture the ice sculptures, parade and experience downtown Saint Paul on a winter’s day, just as the founders intended.

The Drum and Bugle Corps of Osman Shrine has been a force in the Saint Paul community since 1921.

Egyptian sarcophagus ice carving is a crowd favorite.

125 year celebration wall of ice with photographs from past year events embedded into the sculpture.

Ice carving is serious business, and you can even watch the sculptures take share, right on the grounds in Rice Park.

Ever been to a cat show? Me neither. But it’s par for the course at the Winter Carnival. This guy was pooped and ready to go home for the day.

Built in 1902, Landmark Center was the federal courthouse and post office in Saint Paul. Today she’s a lovely restored building with office space, a book store and cafe. She’s also a warm respite when the outside elements have numbed your toes during the Carnival.

While warming up with hot cocoa in Landmark Center, check out the ice castle display. Ice castles were once a main attraction of the Carnival, and model replicas with advertising from the era are fun to look at. The last castle built was erected for the 2004 Winter Carnival.

Ice thrones are a popular photo op.

Such detailed work on this Minnesota trees ice sculpture.

Saint Paul’s version of Central Park, there is an skating rink placed across the street from the Saint Paul Hotel every winter.

The Winter Carnival runs through February 6. Find out more about the legend and lore of the Carnival or events happening around the city.

US Pond Hockey Championships

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In January there are two major events in Minneapolis and St. Paul that are uniquely Minnesotan – the US Pond Hockey Championships and the Saint Paul Winter Carnival. The first is a celebration of Minnesota’s favorite sport, and the second is a celebration of winter. Both are outdoor events, which makes non-natives think Minnesotans are slightly crazy. But, we have six months of snow on average, so we might as well make the most of it.

The US Pond Hockey Championships attracts teams from over 30 states and a half dozen countries. The premise is simple – playing pick-up hockey outdoors like you did when you were a kid. Or as the event describes it, “The way hockey was meant to be played.” Teams range from an open field to over 40, over 50, women’s, rink rat and boot hockey levels.

I went out this year, as I have for several years now, and the wind was bitter. The temperature was hanging at 1 degree, and I would guess the windchill was about -15. I didn’t want to take my camera out in the cold, so I recorded a few games in Hipstamatic on my iPhone. Wasn’t I cold? A little. But seeing people play with that much passion for the game kept me warm.

Next weekend is the start of Winter Carnival, and I hope to capture more pictures of winter on my iPhone. Until then, don’t forget to wear your Cuddl Duds!

Rink 1 of 25

Warming tent

Goal!

Balancing down the steps from the warming tent to rinks set up on Lake Nokomis.

Facing the wind. Brrr.

Fight for the puck.

 

Favorite pubs in Dublin

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A friend recently announced on Facebook he is heading to Dublin in a few weeks. There were a lot of virtual thumbs ups and “have a Guinness for me!” comments that flooded his wall. It seems people get excited about Ireland, no matter what their lineage. I promised I would send details about some of the pubs we had found while in the city.

As I dove into pictures from my trip to help aid the memory banks, I posed the question to Husband. “What were the best pubs in Dublin?” His response – “There were no bad pubs in Dublin.” True. Every pub in Dublin has a little something different to offer, including a unique experience.

What was originally going to be a direct Facebook message to my dear friend with a list of our favorite pubs, turned into a full blog post. So Richard, this is for you. Sláinte!

The Celt

The Celt Pub at 81 Talbot Street Dublin 1 has the traditional interior ambience of rural Ireland just blocks from Connolly Station, which is a main hub for both buses and trains. This small pub hosts live music seven days a week in a tiny corner that sits across from the bar. The Celt is situated in a popular area of hostels and inexpensive B&Bs, so the crowd (and sometimes musicians) are either wandering youth, looking to experience Ireland at her finest, or laborers getting off work, complete with sweat and dirty boots.

O’Shea’s Merchant

O’Shea’s Merchant at 12 Lower Bridge Street in South Dublin is across the street from the famous Brazen Head pub. The Brazen Head, while the epitome of Irish pub cool on the inside, did not make my list because the tourists outnumber the Irish. While I recommend seeing the Brazen Head, spend time in O’Shea’s Merchant. Traditional Irish music is the name of the game, and spontaneous dancing by patrons averaging around the age of 60 is a common sight.

Cobblestone

This pub is in a working class neighborhood of Dublin, just around the corner from the Jameson and Powers Distilleries at 77 North King Street, Dublin 7. The Backroom hosts local musicians from folk, country and roots genres. Seek out a bluegrass session to see how the Irish spin something that is distinctly American. No matter what night you are at the Cobblestone, you’re guaranteed plenty of foot stomping.

If you are looking for a different beer experience other than Guinness, Smithwicks, Harp or Murphy’s, Ireland does have a few microbreweries. For a taste of how the Irish interpret brews other than dark porter, there is a microbrewery worth a try:

The Powerhouse Brewing Company

This brewing company has five establishments, and we visited the one in the Temple Bar neighborhood, skipping the more touristy Temple Bar Pub. Located at 16-18 Parliament Street in Temple Bar, the three-story brewhouse has nine mirco beers on tap and one seasonal. Crowded and popular with the younger set, it is still easy to belly-up to a copper kettle drum (right there as decoration in the bar) and sample a flight of your favorite styles. Messrs Maguire is another brewhouse that a true beer geek might want to try, but it didn’t get as high of ratings as Porterhouse during our visit. You can find Messrs Maguire at the foot of the O’Connell Bridge, Burgh Quay, Dublin 2.

And finally, the pubs that didn’t make my list but are worth noting ~

Brazen Head: It was established in 1198. It has dirt floors. Those two facts alone help you look past the Italian and Japanese tourists sitting next to you.

The Church Bar: This is truly a bar in a former church. Elegant and grand, with the pipe organ still in place in the choir loft overhead, the beer selection is poor, and some might consider it sacrilegious to drink in a former place of worship. But its a spectacle to behold.

The Temple Bar: Probably the most recognized pub in Dublin, stop in just to say you had a Guinness there. Or take a picture and say you had a Guinness there. No one will know.

Finding home. Again.

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Every so often I wander from Minnesota to northeast Kansas, the corner where I was born and raised. I’m convinced Kansas will forever be known as the Land of Oz – flat, dusty and full of farms with Auntie Em making pie in the kitchen. While the farms and dust are reality, the typography of northeast Kansas is anything but flat. Gentle rolling hills of golden pastures are sprinkled with windmills and grazing horses.

A former co-worker and friend has been blogging about the concept of “home” at Stories She Tells. Her personal self discoveries about moving from state to state continuously as a child are thought-provoking for me. Each of her blog posts make me contemplate about what I consider “home” to be, now as an adult.

I left Kansas for college at 18 and have only been a resident over long weekend visits. There is both strangeness and familiarity when you return to an area you haven’t visited in a long while. Over the Christmas holiday I went to my parents house with the premise of Stories She Tells in my head. The barn where I did chores nearly every morning is very familiar. The downtown streets I walked every day after school? Strange.

One of the familiar places I like to visit is Little Stranger Church, a clapboard structure one mile up the gravel road from where I grew up. Built in 1867, it has severely decayed over the years, although I firmly believe the hand of God Himself has prevented a tornado from taking it away. It has a scattering of families in the cemetery grounds, some who lost all of their children the same year from typhoid fever or influenza.

Little Stranger Church is a place of peace. I also believe it’s a culmination of what Kansas really is. Kansas is worn, battered by wind, peppered with history and filled with common people who live to be 95 or die as children. Kansas is a neutral tone, never offensive, but wise beyond her years. Living in a fast-paced, big city can sometimes put you on auto pilot, and going back to a familiar yet strange place is grounding. My home is in the big city. But I would wager that not many city kids appreciate natural prairie grass and clapboard churches like I do.

Venice goes digital

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In October I sent 515 images to ScanCafe. I have two three-ring binders of very organized negatives and slide film, mostly of travel from nearly a decade ago that I want to save forever. Honestly? Most of the pictures are complete garbage, and that’s being nice. I can’t believe I took 13 pictures of a cliff side. Come on! Crashing waves aren’t that interesting. But I saved them all, fearful of deleting some sort of memory or place in time that I will never see again.

Of the 515 scans that now sit on my hard drive, the people of Venice, Italy are a favorite when looking back at what I had captured so long ago. The pictures made me realize that I’m not as adventurous with my camera as I used to be because I have developed an adult conscience. I’m too concerned about being nice and not offending and being respectful and not acting like someone who just points their camera at anything.

I have altered my photography because of limitations. Yes, I used to center everything instead of putting a picture into thirds, but I caught a few elements of life of Venice by not knowing the rules. Maybe in 2011 I need to remember to throw the rules out once in awhile.

10022

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I struggled a little with this last installment about New York City because I didn’t want to talk about it at first. It’s not sexy. It’s not romantic. It’s about business.

When you work in the 10022 ZIP code, you are in the heart of Midtown East, home of Madison Avenue and St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Rockefeller Center is just one ZIP code over. Central Park and the Theater District are close by. But after a long day of meetings, taking a cab or walking far seems cumbersome. Staying in your postage stamp size room is also not an option. Okay bright lights, big city – NOW what?

Of all the places in Manhattan, Midtown East is what I know best. I stay in 10022 every time I’m in town and have learned where to find my favorite morning bialy (PAX on E. 51st and 3rd Ave) and which street cart has the freshest knish. If you are doing business in Midtown East and don’t want to walk 15 blocks for dinner or a drink, here are my favs close to most 10022 hotels.

NY Luncheonette: This diner gets mixed reviews on Yelp, but I love it. It’s not gourmet, it’s not expensive. It’s clean, has fast service and the food is hearty and good. If you don’t want to eat in a dull hotel restaurant, this little diner comes with New York flare. At lunch it’s full of office workers, so you may have to belly up to the old fashioned counter, but that seems like a prize, not a punishment. Tip – try the veggie burger, even if you’re not a vegetarian. It’s the size of your face and made with avocado. Delish. (E. 50th and Lexington)

Bill’s Gay Nineties: This is probably the first speakeasy I’ve ever been in, but that’s not what makes Bill’s glorious. The converted brownstone mansion has transformed the first level parlor into a piano bar. Narrow and dark, you can sit at the bar or at one of the few tables, if you’re lucky enough to find a seat. And jammed into the corner is an upright piano with a crooner belting out Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin. Grab a martini and feel free to sing along. (E. 54th and Madison Ave.)

Dawat: If you’re a foodie who wants to have a reasonably priced meal in Midtown, Dawat is your spot for flavorful Northern Indian fare. Internationally acclaimed chef Madhur Jaffrey owns the establishment and avoids the traditional Indian feel with a more upscale atmosphere. Try the Dal or Masala dishes for a guaranteed party in your mouth. (E. 58th and 2nd Ave.)

Fusia Asian Cuisine: You may think Fusia is a mistake when you walk in. It has an any-man’s-Chinese-buffet feel about it, but when the beautifully decorated plates arrive and you take that first bite, you know it’s going to be okay. Wonderful flavors of hot, piping food await. (E. 56th and Lexington)

Pretty much anything you find on 2nd Ave. between E. 58th and E. 48th are going to have good food and atmosphere. There are tiny French bistros and Latin cafes that spill out on the sidewalk in the summer. There are Irish pubs, English pubs and sports pubs. The crowd is typically a mix of locals, internationals and business travelers, which makes for a pleasantly eclectic atmosphere.

Winds of New York

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The beauty and the bane of living or working in Manhattan is walking from point A to point B. It  could be a glorious spring day or a frightful winter wasteland. Even on a 50 degree December day, it can feel cold. A Minnesotan who now lives in The Big Apple summed it up best. “In Minneapolis you leave your heated office and take the heated skyway to your heated parking garage. In New York you leave your heated office and go out into the elements.”

The first weekend in December was actually quite nice by New York standards – perfect for roaming if well dressed. Husband and I decided to make a day of walking to Ground Zero. But as we strolled, the temperature (and sun) began to dip.

There is a Starbucks every 50 yards in Midtown. As you move toward more residential areas of lower Manhattan, the coffee shops begin to thin. By the time we reached Washington Square Park we weren’t cold as much as in severe need of a bathroom. Pointing ourselves toward Bleecker Street, we had to find a warm coffee house with a loud espresso machine waiting to greet us. But after passing night clubs and standing-only restaurants, we were desperate and dashed into a white linen cafe.

Two cups of coffee and nearly $10 later, we emerged. It was one of the most expensive pit stops on record.

We pushed forward with our camera backpacks through Soho and TriBeCa to Ground Zero. We viewed the construction site, walked through St. Paul’s Chapel Cemetery across the street, bought a $5 scarf for husband on the street, and turned back toward Midtown.

My face was numb by TriBeCa. But we trudged on, determined to get to Soho. There had to be a Starbucks in Soho.

In the center of Soho we didn’t see a Starbucks or anything that resembled a coffee shop. With no legitimate option for warmth in the middle of the afternoon, we opted for the best option within a few feet of us.

Toad Hall, a bar on a sleepy street in Soho, was dark with rustic English decor and a pool table in back. It was also warm and full of people chatting or reading alone while drinking coffee. Of course! They don’t drink coffee at Starbucks. Too tourist. Too ordinary. The residents of New York were in the bar for their cup o’ Joe.

After thawing in Toad Hall we agreed to keep the walking more tempered. In TriBeCa we tried our luck again, this time at Broome Street Bar, which also had piping hot clear glasses of coffee and cappuccinos. Again, conversation and book reading at the tables. It was never a scene I expected to find there, in the bars off West Broadway, but it feels like a graduation of sorts. After many trips to New York, I know where the locals find the best cheap coffee.

New York iReport

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My goal of live blogging from the streets of New York was abandoned by a patchy 3G signal and less than stellar battery life. I have a future blog in mind from the trip, but until then, here is a delayed report told by my iPhone Hipstamatic app.

NY Luncheonette

The Plaza Hotel

Central Park artists

Central Park Ice Skating Rink

LOVE from NYC

Bill’s Gay Nineties in Midtown East

Brooklyn Bridge and New York skyline

New York Times Square

Hello Kitty!

The lobby of The Pod Hotel

New York state of mind

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I am going to New York City soon, and I always try to explore a new section of the city I’ve never seen. I’ve done Midtown, the West Village, the Upper East Side, Central Park and the Theater District. What should I explore next? Tribeca? Soho? Chinatown? I’m looking for your suggestions of the offbeat, odd and downright hidden gems of the city. Leave a comment to let me know where your favorite places of the city are located. I plan to post pictures as I wander, so you never know – your recommendation might just show up here!

A day of Thanksgiving

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I have many things to be thankful for this year. There has been travel near and far, the love of my dear husband, the gift of learning new things, a load of new friends, and this blog. I have posted stories and pictures, and the response has been humbling. Every comment, every visit, means the world.

Thank you. I am grateful. Now – pass the Jello!