Driving Norway

One-day bus tours aren’t my cup of tea. Especially when the guide has memorized an encyclopedia on Iceland and is blurting out everything she knows about the country into a microphone at the front of the bus. There was no pause, just a barrage of factoids that had nothing to do with the landscape we were looking at. At one point, I couldn’t stop laughing hysterically with a friend because this guide could not shut up and give it a rest. We decided to return home and create a “Boston Bullshit Tour” where we would hire stand-up comedians to adlib about Boston’s history, basically saying anything that comes to mind. 

One doesn’t drive in New England simply to get from Point A to Point B at the fastest possible time. No, we like to linger, savor the beauty, cherish the history. We’re fortunate to be blessed with a diverse landscape full of majestic sights like the jagged shoreline of Maine, the granite notches of New Hampshire, the verdant farmland of Vermont, and the long stretch of white beach found in Rhode Island. We stop not only to post photos to our Instagram and Facebook accounts, but to dine on lobster rolls and fried clams at renowned seafood shacks, hike on the same shoreline and forest paths that inspired Winslow Homer and Robert Frost, and stop to stay at legendary inns or a new cabin built into the vast Maine wilderness. 

Less than a 2-hour drive from New York City is Sullivan County, the western region of the Catskills. Once the heart of the Borscht Belt, where resorts like Grossinger’s and Kutsher’s thrived in the 50s and the 60s, only to be abandoned in the 80s and 90s not long after the mega-hit movie, Dirty Dancing, hit the screens. Derelict buildings on properties the size of college campuses dotted Sullivan County and the region felt like the Pompeii of the Catskills. Today, the county is experiencing a comeback, with stylish new inns and resorts, as well as farm fresh restaurants popping up left and right. This resurgence, coupled with outdoor adventures and genuine affordability means there’s no better time to experience what’s in Manhattan’s backyard (without having to get on an overcrowded train to the Hamptons). 

We were picked up promptly at 9 am in Granada by Damir, a driver and guide for a company we’ve been working with more and more in Europe, Daytrip. We could have rented our own car and made the 3-hour trek from Granada to Seville, but it’s so much more relaxing to have someone else drive, especially when you want to stop and visit another town along the way. Two hours later, after sitting in the back of a comfortable Mercedes sedan and peering out at the rolling hills and mountains of this bucolic region of Spain, we arrived in Ronda. Damir guided us around the town, walking along the edge of the famous gorge, touring the oldest bullring in Spain, the one Hemingway wrote about when he lived here (it’s also the town where Orson Welles retired and died), and the historic Moorish settlement at the bottom of the hill. After a lunch of tapas, we arrived in Seville around 4 pm. One of the most relaxing days of the trip.