New York State of Mind 03/05: Lox of Bagels
I'd wanted to visit Lox of Bagels, a roadside bagel café, since I first spotted it, partly because I love bagels and partly because I also love a good/terrible pun. Plus, 'lox' is a great word and one we don't use over here.
I had a jalapeno bagel with the eponymous smoked salmon and so much cream cheese I had to leave half of it on my plate, and I speak as one who previously thought there was no such thing as 'too much cream cheese'. It was fantastic.
We made a few more stops of Fleming interest, including a visit to the Hyde Collection to admire a painting of a lady in a red hat which may have made it into one of the short stories, before collecting Gus for an adventure on Lake George.
This was the warmest, sunniest day of my stay and I loved the cheerful holiday town with its souvenir shops (delightfully uncrowded right at the start of the season). The pleasure steamboats Minne-Ha-Ha, Mohican and Lac du Saint Sacrement weren't running yet, but the Adirondac was, and Frieda had booked us tickets.
So we chugged up one shore of the lake and down the other, the wind in our faces and a hawk floating above, checking out the rich people's houses on the banks while the sound system played Rihanna's Diamonds, interrupted occasionally by the captain telling us interesting facts about places we were passing.
Frieda took Gus home while I did some shopping. It was well past lunch time when she returned, and we visited the Black Bear, a proper old-fashioned roadside truck stop, where I had a Chicken Cordon Bleu sandwich (it's what James Bond would have done).
We spent the afternoon driving and sightseeing, possibly my favourite things (along with eating) to do in the US. The Union Cemetery, where I remarked on the pleasant smell and was told I was treading on wild thyme among the grass. The spot where Viv in The Spy Who Loved Me turns off the main road, eventually coming to the (fictional) motel where the meat of the book takes place. Oscar's Adirondack Smokehouse, to buy maple bacon for breakfast the next day. And Frieda's colleague's farm so I could feed her baby goats.
Frieda is also involved with the local community theatre, and had wangled us seats for the preview night of Always, 'based on the true story of Patsy Cline's friendship with Houston housewife Louise Seger'. I loved it and discovered that I know more Patsy Cline songs than I thought I did.
After the show we retired to the town's fancy hotel and drank gin & tonic until midnight. It seemed a fitting way to spend my final evening in Glens Falls.
I had a jalapeno bagel with the eponymous smoked salmon and so much cream cheese I had to leave half of it on my plate, and I speak as one who previously thought there was no such thing as 'too much cream cheese'. It was fantastic.
We made a few more stops of Fleming interest, including a visit to the Hyde Collection to admire a painting of a lady in a red hat which may have made it into one of the short stories, before collecting Gus for an adventure on Lake George.
This was the warmest, sunniest day of my stay and I loved the cheerful holiday town with its souvenir shops (delightfully uncrowded right at the start of the season). The pleasure steamboats Minne-Ha-Ha, Mohican and Lac du Saint Sacrement weren't running yet, but the Adirondac was, and Frieda had booked us tickets.
So we chugged up one shore of the lake and down the other, the wind in our faces and a hawk floating above, checking out the rich people's houses on the banks while the sound system played Rihanna's Diamonds, interrupted occasionally by the captain telling us interesting facts about places we were passing.
Frieda took Gus home while I did some shopping. It was well past lunch time when she returned, and we visited the Black Bear, a proper old-fashioned roadside truck stop, where I had a Chicken Cordon Bleu sandwich (it's what James Bond would have done).
We spent the afternoon driving and sightseeing, possibly my favourite things (along with eating) to do in the US. The Union Cemetery, where I remarked on the pleasant smell and was told I was treading on wild thyme among the grass. The spot where Viv in The Spy Who Loved Me turns off the main road, eventually coming to the (fictional) motel where the meat of the book takes place. Oscar's Adirondack Smokehouse, to buy maple bacon for breakfast the next day. And Frieda's colleague's farm so I could feed her baby goats.
Frieda is also involved with the local community theatre, and had wangled us seats for the preview night of Always, 'based on the true story of Patsy Cline's friendship with Houston housewife Louise Seger'. I loved it and discovered that I know more Patsy Cline songs than I thought I did.
After the show we retired to the town's fancy hotel and drank gin & tonic until midnight. It seemed a fitting way to spend my final evening in Glens Falls.