‘Enchanted glade’ are the first words that come to mind about this tranquil setting and inn, which struck me as a lively, playful and — in parts of the interior décor, visually outlandish — piece of Gold Rush history that was built in 1853. Tree-lovers will go into raptures about the giant old magnolia specimen in the back garden, next to locust trees. White-barked aspen branches make another feast for the eyes. There is an enormous, gorgeous, back patio and lush green lawn on which I would love to have had time for leisurely conversations with a companion (not remotely the case, unfortunately) — that I would recommend for a wedding reception.
Though I slept well, I was still too tired from too many varieties of trying events in my life elsewhere to wake up early enough to sample the breakfast, but would guess that it’s excellent from the preparations I witnessed the night before. Elaine — the warm, frank, funny, kind-hearted and energetic deputy manager, who looks like a Bo Derek-ish surfer — was slicing ham, in part of that prep work.
My conversations with Jeanine, the intelligent, elegant mother of the owner— who wasn’t present on my single night there — were also a very special pleasure. She effectively runs the place, and reminded me of pictures of Joan Didion about 20 years ago — the only writer featured in Vogue, as far as I know, for sartorial reasons.
This inn is being discreetly modernised, and I look forward to returning when I can afford to take some time off — or when it has more sockets for electronic devices. The wifi connection was good and fast, but for some reason cell phone calls to places far away were dropped (which could have been the fault of my mobile).
I would not recommend eating at the Mexican restaurant and bar next door — unconnected to the Inn — where I was served possibly the worst chile verde I have ever eaten (dried out, flat, and tasteless, with not a single fresh ingredient), and the salsa also seemed to have been thawed in the microwave after a year or two in a freezer. I’d guess that the bar interests the owner/s far more than food. My Dos Equis was served in a perfectly chilled mug with freshly fried tortilla chips. I left half the food on my plate without guilty thoughts about starving children on any continent, or the planet Mars.