by admin on February 22, 2011

palo alto hotel

mr. noir and i took a little overnight trip up to palo alto the other day to celebrate mr. n’s birthday.  of course, we wine-tasted at vvw (vieux telegraphe) and had a delightful dinner with esme’s parents at bistro elan (pea-shoot pancakes; pork-chop with somethingerother ravioli; banana tart with chocolate ice-cream).  and of course, i popped into leaf and petal (lots of black, black with navy, army-green cargo leggings), where, i am surprised to report, nothing really set my heart to pitter-pattering. 

 i did cross the street to peak into a little shoe-store called the european cobblery, and discovered a new comfort-shoe brand: ART, made in spain. another shoe to try on when my l foot returns to normal. 

our usual funky b & b was full-up;  apparently there were stanford events up the wazoo going on.  so, we stayed the night at the cabana hotel.  i have fond memories of this place, as my paternal grandparents used to stay there when they visited us from new york.  i remember it as the height of luxury, with a large pool, and huge fountains in the front.  well, the fountains are gone, but it’s still quite nice, with lovely white linens, japanese-style bathrooms, and a pool that really set my heart aflutter as it was probably about 60 degrees in temp.  nonetheless, i bravely swam laps until my ears started to hurt from the cold, and felt most deliciously invigorated for the rest of the morning. 

what i really wanted to tell you about, however, is the stanford football team.  the cabana is a huge hotel, and i gathered that they house the stanford football team before every game.  i had my eyes and ears peeled for the football players, but neither saw nor heard a peep.  i did glimpse a couple of really large, rather fat and wholesome-looking young guys with washington state shirts, whom i intuited were members of the opposing team. when i inquired as to the reasons for the stanford team spending the night at a luxury hotel about a mile from campus, the guy at the front desk said that it was “to make sure they all showed up.” 

and this is what struck me:  somehow, i’d always thought of football players as grown-ups.  but really, they’re the same age (or younger) than christophe, and not to be counted on to turn down a few (or twenty) drinks the night before a game, or to be up before noon.  just kids.  big, over-grown kids.  this idea charmed me, and i wished i could give a few of the big lunks a good-luck hug.  however, they were escorted to the game in a big bus attended by impressive motor-cycle police, and i suppose i might have gotten arrested for even trying! 

no coyotes here,



{ 0 comments… add one now }

Leave a Comment

Previous post:

Next post: