Ithaca and a Day Off

The Finger Lake region of New York State is one of my favorite areas to visit on this Tour. I’ve only ever visited it in the fall, but the dramatic gorges and waterways and the foliage are usually breathtaking. Color is not yet at its peak, but now that the temperatures are more fitting for the season, it won’t be long before a blaze of color greets us on our walks.

Our stay in Ithaca is much anticipated by all, and not only because of the maintenance day. There is something for everyone here, whether shopping, outdoor activity, or no activity at all is your choice. Wednesday afternoon found Leslye and me on The Commons, the pedestrian mall in downtown Ithaca. We were still searching for athletic shoes for Leslye, I was hoping to locate a store catering to canines, and we were both in need of some form of grocery store. We had little success in the shoe and canine departments, but remembered the organic market in the Dewitt Mall across from The Commons. Every room had a microwave and refrigerator, and as we were here for two nights, we stocked up on milk and items requiring refrigeration we might not otherwise purchase.

The concert was at Cornell University; we’ve performed in this particular hall before, but it had been redone in the last five years. I was far more comfortable with the acoustics of this hall than Eastman Theater although it was considerably smaller. Program C is my most technical program, so it was nice to play in a hall where I could actually hear myself.

Certain sections of Aegean Festival came together better than usual, and others didn’t quite mesh. I wondered if they had always been that way and maybe I couldn’t hear it before. Carnival of Venice was a crowd pleaser; Phil’s euphonium variation earned him a loud cheer during bows.

Our performance in Ithaca had some competition from the Dalai Lama. He was in Ithaca for two days; he spoke at Cornell University on Tuesday, gave a lecture on the “Eight Verses for Training the Mind” at Ithaca College on Wednesday. The Dalai Lama came to Ithaca to bless the site of the new temple that will be the home of the Namgyal branch of Buddhism in North America.

After the concert, I researched laundry facilities in the downtown area. The hotel boasted a guest laundry and the itinerary listed one Laundromat, but I was certain they would both be in high demand. I located one in the opposite direction of the one listed on the itinerary that was actually closer. I decided an early morning laundry run was first on the agenda, giving me the rest of the day to enjoy.

Up early, the sky was dark with ominous clouds hanging over the city. Out came the umbrellas as Karen and I made our way to what turned out to be a very clean, very empty Laundromat. My laundry was done in no time at all, allowing me to walk briskly back in the rain to have a bowl of piping hot oatmeal in the room before exploring downtown Ithaca.

I found Leslye in a toy store, cramming age appropriate toys into her shopping basket. Having an excellent toy store in close proximity to a UPS store is a dangerous thing when you are missing your child; after objectively discarding a few items, we perused the book section. I was happily rediscovering books I read to my children when they were younger, books my mother read to me. I hope Leslye has many happy hours of reading to her son ahead of her.

In the drizzle, Leslye and I went our separate ways; Leslye off to UPS and I headed to the kitchen store. I wandered in and out of a few stores, returning to the hotel to drop of some purchases. I had planned on a hot meal in the room, but decided instead to lunch at the Café Dewitt. Riding the elevator own on my way, a couple entered the elevator, the woman holding a branch of small yellow roses.

I commented on their remarkable color, telling her they were a spot of sunshine on a dreary day. She smiled and told me she had been on stage with the Dalai Lama and had received the flowers from him. She was planning on drying them to place upon her altar. Just before exiting the elevator, she broke off a single rose and held it out to me. “Here,” she said, smiling, “have a spot of sunshine.” I carried the rose with me to lunch, people smiling at the small flower with its cheerful demeanor.

After lunch, I put the flower in water in my room and wandered back to The Commons, stumbling across Audrey in the glass and craftsman shop. I drooled over some excellent pottery and blown and debated about a free-form violinist mobile while Audrey perused the jewelry. We were recognized by some customers who had attended not only the Ithaca concert but also the Rochester concert.

Damp and tired, I curled up on a cozy couch in the lobby to read for a little while before meeting Leslye, Mike, and Matt for dinner. Easting at the Moosewood was the obvious choice for both Leslye and I, but it was a new dining experience for Mike and Matt.

The Moosewood doesn’t open the dining room until 5:30 for dinner, and several people were ahead of us when we arrived. We were seated quickly once they opened; looking around, nearly every table on our side of the dining room was full of Band members, some of whom also ate lunch at the Moosewood. Dinner was delicious, as always, but dessert was divine. Leslye splurged on the fudge brownie (best brownie anywhere, according to Tracey) with ice cream, Matt and I ordering the pumpkin pie ice cream. Mmm. Ice cream at the Moosewood is made fresh daily, and we had the last of it; after ordering, the selection was erased from the blackboard announcing the daily flavors. Waddling back to the hotel, I was glad Lisa and I had already arranged to walk in the morning.

Morning was cold and wet, but we grabbed our umbrellas and ventured forth. Instead of climbing the steep hill to walk the Cornell campus, Karen, Lisa and I turned towards the Cayuga Inlet to find the waterfront trail. The wind made umbrellas difficult, and we were fairly damp when we turned back towards town. We made a wide detour to the Wegman’s, since grocery stores have been few and far between in recent days. I love Wegman’s – I could happily spend and afternoon wandering the aisles.

Back to the hotel for a bowl of hot oatmeal before packing up to hit the road once again. I’d love another day here in Ithaca, but moving on means progress towards home.