oh, the different styles of American B&Bs... We find ourselves this evening in the Groveland Hotel, just outside Yosemite, with frills everywhere (and teddy bears, and a yellow plastic duck on the edge of the tub). Happily we've relocated from the horrendous first room in which we were placed - Charlie's room - which I booked on line on the dubious grounds of its history, Charlie being a 49-er worker of some kind who was unmasked as a she after her death. Serves me right for booking a room on the dubious grounds of it being named after a gender bender. not only was it small and pokey, but the first thing we saw after we walked in (after the teddy bears) was a naked man in the room (no view) opposite... Anyway, we have moved to something far more salubrious, and with a view and a terrace...
but all the same, a far cry from the Black Bear Inn in Lake Tahoe, where the owners, Jerry and Kevin, proudly carried us our breakfast to eat outside by the little fountain by our room... Such attention to detail... Did we have any dietary preferences? we were asked on check in. Alice owned up to her cilantro aversion. Here, you will see my baked omelette and herbs garnished by a sprig of the offending greenery - hers not.
In other words... how best to take photographs to document vacations? Far better than Views (though oh yes, we have these too) are the small and telling details of what one eats and where one sleeps... and here, too, lies, the social history of the US, and the puzzling world of the B&B...
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