Day Three: Sacred Grove, Smith Farm, and Niagara Falls

Mom and I got up early to go to the Sacred Grove. No-one else was there, with the exception of a gentleman who walked past us on our way in. Halfway through, Mom and I went our separate ways to pray and reflect upon the events that happened there. The spirit in the grove was pristine and powerful, an experience heightened as the sun broke through the trees after we’d been there about 30 minutes. I took a bazillion pictures, but none of them does the grove justice.

After a breakfast of orange and cranberry muffins, maple ham, and an asparagus, tomato, and onion scramble, Mom and I headed over to the Book of Mormon publication site, where we took a tour of the original bookstore, printing press, and bindery for the Book of Mormon. Many original pieces and components were available for viewing, including much of the existing brickworks, handwritten manuscript, printing materials, and, of course, two first-edition copies of the Book of Mormon. The first round of our church continued with a brief stop at Alvin Smith’s grave and the Martin Harris farm, followed by a drive to the Smith home and farm. It was surreal to see some of the (reconstructed) places Joseph had lived and in which he had hidden the plates during translation.

Grandin Building

Martin Harris Farm

Alvin Smith Gravesite

Smith Log Home

Smith Frame Home

Two hours later, Mom and I arrived in Niagara Falls for our two-night stay at Bedham Hall Bed & Breakfast, Ontario. On our way, we stopped to buy tickets for tomorrow’s tour of the falls. The lady that sold us our tickets was a smooth talker and I couldn’t help but feel a bit swindled. However, we are only here for a short time and I didn’t want to take a chance that we would be unable to see the sights. Sometimes I really wish I had Internet access at home; I could have done more planning ahead without needing to do my travel research at Sinai or DePaul. Nevertheless, we were able to get the tickets and check in at the bed and breakfast just in time. Bedham Hall is a quaint site with a British feel (or at least what I think would be a British feel, having never been to Britain myself). Our room has a little sitting room off to the side that is the perfect place to write my blog.

Mom and I decided to walk down to the falls and have dinner so we could see the purported phenomenon of brilliantly lit falls after dark. Ask dusk approached, we took some photos by the falls and walked through the park alongside the falls. How many times can I use the word “falls” in one paragraph? We’ll see how my prose falls. Turns out I miscalculated both in the distance to the restaurant (Yukiguni) and in the quality of the restaurant. Hey, it was mentioned in the Fodor’s travel guide. Well, Mom wasn’t a big fan, but I did have one of the best spicy tuna rolls I’ve ever eaten. A somewhat disappointing dinner was followed by a severely disappointing walk down Clifton Hill to the sort-of lit falls. Mostly, it looked like there were a few colored light bulbs shining on billions of gallons of water. Sigh. I’m afraid it seems as though Niagara Falls is the Vegas of natural wonders.

Day Two: Peter Whitmer Farm and Hill Cumorah

After a delicious homemade breakfast of banana nut muffins (most amazing ever), peach pecan French toast, eggs, and sausage, Mom and I headed to the Peter Whitmer Log Home in Fayette, NY, where the Church was formally organized on April 6, 1830 in. The log home in which the organization took place has been reconstructed based on models from the time. Church services took place in a beautiful chapel nearby. We were a little late because the GPS unit decided to take us along the scenic route. Hooray! Fortunately, we walked in just in time for the final speaker, who was none other than Ed J. Pinegar. Yes, that guy. You know, the amazing scriptorian/historian/big-ball-of-love-wisdom-and-humor Ed J. Pinegar. Unbelievable. Apparently he’s serving a mission over in Palmyra. He gave the most amazing talk on charity and faith. I could just fill a swimming pool with all the discourses he’s given and swim my way to enlightenment.

After church, we were taken through the Whitmer Visitor’s Center and Whitmer Log Home by a couple of sister missionaries. They shared many stories about the Whitmer family, the three witnesses and the day the Church was organized. The spirit was so strong, especially inside the log home. Upstairs, we saw room a much like the ones in which the remainder of the translation of the golden plates took place.

Mom and I in front of the Whitmer Log Cabin

Room in which the Church was organized on April 6, 1830

On our way back to Palmyra, we stopped for lunch at Blue Ribbon Smokehouse, where Mom and I had chicken and pork smothered with delicious barbecue sauce, coleslaw, French fries, garlic toast, and barbecue baked beans. The sheer volume of food sent us trudging back to Liberty House for a nap. Well-rested and covered with bug spray, we headed to the Hill Cumorah Visitor’s Center, where we sat in a room with a Christus statue similar to the one in Salt Lake, except with a grove of trees behind it. Following a short video about Joseph Smith, Jr.’s search for the truth, we hiked up Hill Cumorah to the Angel Moroni monument. The scenery of the surrounding verdant hills and valleys was spectacular. A black cat with white paws was lounging on the walls of the monument and it took extreme restraint to keep from petting it. I miss my cats!

BBQ at Blue Ribbon Smokehouse

Hill Cumorah

Hill Cumorah Visitor's Center

After hiking back down the hill through a tree-lined path (and the cat followed us down halfway), we stopped for dinner at Brad & Dad’s (a restaurant, not people we know). So-so chicken fingers were chased down by hot fudge sundaes (chocolate almond, Almond Joy, and English toffee for Mom and the same [substituting honey roasted pecan for Almond Joy]) for me. We decided to wash off the bug spray (which was burning our skin…um…) and headed to bed so we could get up early and welcome the day in the Sacred Grove. G’night.

Day One: Salt Lake/Chicago to Palmyra

Mom and I met up at O’Hare en route to Rochester. Once in Rochester, we picked up our rental car: a 2008 Dodge Avenger. What? It’s awesome! We even got a GPS unit to help us on our way which is sometimes helpful, sometimes not. For example, helpful sounds like “Turn right in 20 feet.” Less helpful sounds like “Satellite connection lost.” Both sound like a British nanny.

Once we checked in to the Liberty House Bed & Breakfast, a multi-century home that starts with mid-19th century construction in the back and finishes with early-20th century flair in the front. It’s quite quaint and beautiful. Although we got in too late to do any sightseeing, we drove around a bit to get our bearings. Dinner found us at Yellow Mill Diner for, well, what you’d expect from a diner: a diner dinner of a bacon double cheeseburger and onion rings (me) and a BLT (Mom). Oh, and I got to watch Food Network. Hooray!

Liberty House Bed & Breakfast in Palmyra

Days 9 & 10: Home

I agreed to get bumped from my flight home Monday morning in exchange for a free round-trip ticket (sweet...next year's spring break, here I come!) and ended up staying the night in the airport hotel. I must admit that my adventurous side has finally worn out, as I opted to spend the day watching cable television, eating ice from the ice machine so conveniently located across the hall from my room, and taking naps. Hey, my sunscreen, beach towel, swimsuit, tour books, and everything else is now in Chicago while I sit here with my laptop and $30 in food vouchers.

Some observations from today:
1. "Charmed" isn't a very good show. It's kind of silly. Also, Shannon Doherty wasn't ever really acting on 90210, was she? That's just how she is in real life.
2. There are way too many versions of "Law & Order. "
3. "Dancing With The Stars" has an excessive amount of commercials, which really cuts down on the excitement.
4. Taco Maker isn't as good as I remember it being.
5. Sleeping is better when you aren't directly above a night club.

So that's it, folks. Please return next spring break (or, if you're a Mormon, please return sometime in July, when Mom and I go to church history sites in the Northeast) for more exciting adventures on Travelblog de Steve-O!

Day 8: Sigh

Today was my last day in Puerto Rico. Sigh. I met up with Yarí, who graciously came to pick me up at the hotel before driving us out to her neighborhood, where we lunched on delicious sandwiches (I had a Cubano) and some local food picked up by her father. Yarí's parents are awesome...very intelligent and hospitable (just like Yarí!). Although I am sure they are tired of talking about it, I brought up how strange the whole Puerto Rico as a territory issue seems. As I walked through Old San Juan and other areas this past week, it seems to me that Puerto Rico has such a rich, extensive history, beginning with (and probably before) the local Taino natives, to the influence of the slave trade and families from Africa, to the Spaniards, to the Dutch, to the British, and now as part of the United States. Although I know the U.S. was populated by people before the colonization from Europe, so much of the previous cultures' influence seems to have been erased that I experience my country as only having one history and heritage, even though I know this isn't true. Puerto Rico doesn't really seem like part of the U.S. (and it isn't, sort of, but it is, sort of), and I dare venture a guess that if it ever became a state, it would lose some of its unique culture and livelihood. Such a complex issue.

Next, Yarí drove me up to the Botanical Garden of the University of Puerto Rico, where I spent an hour or so. Because she is awesome, Yarí picked me up again and drove me to el Museo de Arte de Puerto Rico. Smaller than the Art Institute (my most favorite place in Chicago) but still awesome, the museum displayed some wonderful works from local artists. The museum staff invited me to stay after closing for a performance by the Orquesta Filarmónica de Puerto Rico, which was free with my admission fees. The setting was perfect for the type of music, and, although I'm not an opera fan, I must say that the soloist, Melliangee Pérez, was phenomenal. I must also say that I use commas and the word "awesome" way too often.






As I still had not eaten mofongo, Yarí recommended Raíces in Old San Juan. Mofongo is a creation of smashed plantains, spices, and meat. It was...you guessed it...awesome, and now I must search for a good Puerto Rican restaurant in Chicago that serves this delicious dish.

Day 7: Good Looking

Today started with a stroll down the blue-bricked streets of Old San Juan for a quick breakfast at Café Mallorca, where I had a couple of eggs, toast, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and, of course, a couple mallorcas. A mallorca is a local pastry that is buttered, grilled, and sprinkled with powdered sugar. Delicious.

Because my Harry Potter beach towel has officially gone lost/apparated elsewhere, I picked up a new one at the local drugstore. It looks like a giant Puerto Rican flag. In retrospect, I'm not sure if it's very respectful to wipe yourself down with something that looks like the flag. But they sold it, so whatever. I went down near the pier to wait for my ride to the rainforest. While waiting, I received about three phone calls from the tour guide company (see, I knew I needed to get another phone) making sure I knew about the pick-up time and location. At approximately 12:00pm, a black van rolled up and an older, stout man appeared, shouting, "Hey, Good Looking!"

Mike, also known as "Good Looking," spent the next 45 minutes picking up the remainder of the tour group at various local hotels, all the while telling me about how he is the driver/bodyguard for Mariah Carey, the former Mrs. Michael Jordan, and Donald Trump when they are on the island. All the way to the rainforest, he talked about various local issues (public/private education, shopping, government, etc.) and pointed out the different types of trees and bushes. Sometimes he stayed in his lane on the highway while he spoke and pointed everywhere.

At El Yunque, the island's rainforest, we watched a short film in the visitor's center (boring, but now I know what happened to Jimmy Smits) and went on a one-hour hike through the forest, culminating in a cool dip at La Mina Falls. Yes, I went in. Yes, all the way in. It was freaking awesome.

We lunched at a roadside café, where I had a couple of surullitos (fried cheese and cornmeal sticks), a shrimp taco (which is different from what you're thinking...tacos are different here), and arroz y habichuelas. Because we had some extra time, Good Looking drove us to El Conquistador, a luxury resort in Fajardo where, you guessed it, he sometimes works as a driver and bodyguard for the rich and famous. His story apparently holds up, as everyone started shouting, "Hey, Good Looking!" when we arrived. As we were walking through the resort I kept thinking, "I will never be able to afford a place like this." I mean, they have their own private island, for goodness sake. Still, it was interesting to see how the other half lives, and now I realize that I need to do some serious background work for that series of young adult fiction novels I'm writing, as the central family is quite wealthy.

As dusk approached, we met up with the 500+ other people who planned to kayak tonight and received a brief lesson on kayaking basics. Everyone else had a partner but me...how telling. After everyone else boarded their kayaks, the staff placed me in a single and I paddled after the group. Unfortunately, there was a father behind, then in front, then behind and so on, of me who had to paddle around himself and his daughter. I say unfortunately because the task seemed very difficult, as evidenced by his repeated crashing into me and into the mangroves lining the canal into the bay.

Now, I must say that I was skeptical about this whole biolumenscence business, but it was totally for real and totally awesome. As we approached the enclosed lagoon, every stroke of the kayak paddle glowed blue as the water moved beneath me. I stuck my hand in, lifted up my arm, and little flashes of light trickled down to my elbow. It was truly, truly magical. It's like billions of microscopic fireflies in the water. Once we'd all arrived, the tour guide asked us to come together for a brief but interesting ecological lesson before we were released to explore on our own. Due to the fragile ecosystem of the area, we weren't allowed to leave our kayaks and go for a swim. Also due to the fragile ecosystem of the area, we were only allowed to stay in the lagoon for about 5 minutes. That was super lame. Fortunately, my kayaking skills are somewhat lacking, so I had about four inches of water in the bottom of my kayak, allowing me to glow, glow, glow all the way back to the shore.

Day 6: Closed

I fear that my travel blog is becoming less exciting for the readers as the days progress. Tomorrow holds the promise of a trip to the rainforest and kayaking in a bioluminescent bay, so there’s something to look forward to, eh?

Today I had great plans for visiting the rest of the sights in Old San Juan. After consulting my trusty Moon Handbook to get the hours and locations right, here’s what happened:

1. El Museo de Las Americas was mostly under renovation. The two small exhibits I found were both smaller than my apartment. Oh, and the reportedly awesome gift shop was closed.

2. El Museo de San Juan was closed. The guard outside just shrugged her shoulders when I asked her why, and when it would be open again.

3. El Museo de Nuestra Raíz Africana was closed. The guard standing inside gave me a dirty look for even approaching the door to see if/when it would be open.

4. La Casa del Libro, purported to house an impressive collection of ancient texts, was under renovation. Its temporary home (back over to El Museo de Las Americas again) had a less than impressive display of approximately 10 pages removed from ancient books. You know how I love books, and you can probably guess what I was expecting from this place. Needless to say, my expectations were not met.

5. Casa Blanca, a 500-year old mansion where Ponce de León’s posterity lived for almost 200 years, was rather difficult to find. But guess what? It was open. But guess what else? The other people in the tour only spoke Spanish. So, when I nodded to the guide that yes, I spoke Spanish, she was super excited. However, I have noticed during my time in Puerto Rico that there is a slight difference in accent (which makes perfect sense) between Borinquens and Mexicanos. This slight difference made it just difficult enough for me to understand the guide that when she said, “Ooh, now I have a test, and it’s just for you,” I got a little flustered. Sigh. And I couldn’t take pictures inside. Still, it was the best part of my day, walking alone through the house. There’s something to be said for surrounding yourself with historical artifacts that are NOT in glass cases. It’s as if you can feel the weight of time and tradition pressing upon you in an attempt to put it all into an eternal perspective.




As I missed breakfast, I decided to stop for a bite to eat at El Burén. I had lobster empanadillas, a spinach salad with fresh papaya, mango, and buffalo mozarella topped with guava dressing, and some guava crème brûlée for dessert. Amazing!

My first day in Old San Juan, I passed by a shop that sold vejigante masks and santos, both of which are excellent examples of Puerto Rican folk art. I returned to El Galpón today, and after some deliberation and consultation with the owner (and his dog), I picked up my very own vejigante mask and antique santo. Well, it wasn’t a santo per se, it was The Good Shepherd. But it looked like the other santos.

After stopping at a café on Calle del Cristo for a virgin piña colada, I headed back to the hotel to catch up on my travel blog and program everyone’s phone numbers into my new phone. I need to head to bed early tonight so I can be refreshed for tomorrow’s adventure: El Yunque rainforest and kayaking in a bioluminescent bay. Hooray! Hooray!