 Asheville’s always been on my list of places I’d like to visit – it’s known for being a pretty hip town, and a lot of nomadic 20-somethings who land in Portland, Austin and similar cities also stop over there. It’s not really close to anything else, though, or on the way to anywhere in particular, so it was my mom’s 60th birthday that finally gave us a real reason to go. She and my dad live in New Hampshire, but she chose Asheville as a celebration rendezvous spot. (I actually have no idea why.) In any case, my brother and his wife, and our little crew all landed late last Thursday for an extended weekend vacation-birthday-celebration-get-together. Our little Newman branch of the family stayed in a small cabin about fifteen minutes outside of town, and everyone else made themselves at home in a luxe little house a few miles up the same road. (There aren’t all that many roads in Asheville's surrounding towns. We did manage to get lost between the airport and the cabin upon arriving, but getting around after that was a piece of cake). As far as sightseeing goes, we went to the Biltmore Estate, we walked around downtown Asheville (cute enough, touristy, typical college town), we discovered West Asheville to be much cooler (more diverse businesses and a more permanent population), and we romped around our cabin’s grounds and ogled the breathtaking landscape. Aaron and I have chronic wanderlust of the ‘Where could/should we move?’ variety, and discussed Asheville’s potential, mostly because our cabin and its location were so idyllic, and Asheville does have its reputation.  |  Ultimately, however, Ashevile’s very small, and while the word ‘serene’ doesn’t do its countryside justice, that countryside is also (if signage is to be believed) heavily populated by Republican Baptists… This didn’t stop me from pointing every which way and squealing “Look! Cows! BABY cows! We could put up a yurt here and freelance from the hills!” but, well, Aaron doesn’t actually want to live in a yurt (I do), and we don’t really want to live in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of Republicans, even if there is a small city center that organic-food-eating, bike-riding liberals call home. (Oh shit, wait…) |
 Travel time with a toddler: preparation is everything. |  |  Make that preparation and snacks. |
It’s a great place to visit, though! And if we were loaded I’d put up a yurt there and go on retreat once in a while. Meanwhile, I definitely recommend Asheville as an easy, 100% satisfying, toddler-friendly vacation. We didn’t wait in any massive lines, or drive for hours, or search for parking. The West End Bakery, where we grabbed a cheap, delicious and locally-sourced lunch on our first full day in town, featured a sweet, sunny seating area with a big rug and appealing toys that kept Kaspar occupied, and in full sight, while we enjoyed our meal. The cabin-place people were totally kid-prepared (baby gates and children’s books in the cabins). Even the staff in the Asheville airport doled out coloring books and crayons.
My mom’s birthday was, for all of Asheville’s novelty, the trip’s main event, though. We ate breakfast and lunch at the big house every day we were there (my family's big on family meals... and why not?), where Kaspar got everyone to read books to him, and spent many happy hours running around on the lush lawn. My sister-in-law brought along one of those cutout-letter “Happy Birthday” banners and hung it by the dining table outside, and Aaron and I got a cake at a local shop for my mom's birthday dinner. We had “Happy Birthday Lizzy” scrawled on it; It’s the nickname my dad calls her, and always has. He’s been diagnosed in the past year with early-onset dementia, and I know it’s been an emotional and challenging time for them both. My dad’s still doing pretty well; he’s not the ‘same’ as he was several years ago (his memory, obviously, is unreliable), and his verbal and conversational capacities have at this point been most impacted, but seeing him, and my mom, light up, surrounded by family, doting on their grandson, and celebrating something really worth celebrating (60’s a big deal!) – together -- was wonderful. My mom sure knows how to throw herself a party! And if anyone deserves to party, it’s her.
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