The hotel provides a splendid breakfast, so I can slob about in my track suit and make as slow a start as I want. It's practically lunchtime before I'm ready to go out.
Today, I'm heading off for another set of quiet, book-lined rooms. I've located the Historical Society, the State Archives, and the City Library. It's turned very cold again, so I'm well wrapped up. It being lunchtime, I have to choose my route carefully, so as to avoid waysides by which I might fall.
But, it turns out, although there is live music all the time, there are no libraries or archives, or even historical societies on Mondays. The city Library takes up a whole block, and I work my way all round it, finding only enormous bronze doors firmly closed. I even wander into the car park, and up to where you park for the library, then down the escalators to an inside door before I see a sign saying closed on Mondays.
So peace-and-quiet will have to wait till tomorrow.
Later that night, it's off up the Gultch. This is a part of downtown being smartened up and made residential. It contains one of the famous traditional country venues, the Station Inn. Inside it looks a bit like a church hall (and of a pretty poor church at that). There is a cover charge here, and the audience is substantially preservation society types (you know, ladies who don't dye their hair, and gentlemen with grey beards and hardly a cowboy hat between them).
But the music is very traditional ( they do have a drummer, but he only has a side drum). and very enoyable. And the beer is domestic, and comes by the pitcher. So, all-in-all, a very traditional evening. I failed to find out who the band was, but I don't suppose it matters very much.
[n0873]
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