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I’m restless. I can’t stop, I have to be moving, doing something – reading (a lot), taking photos (a little). I thought this morning about what I would write, and realized I didn’t know what to say.  I wanted to talk about late fall, how the early setting sun makes me miss Osijek. Or how the deep blue sky settling into night around an abandoned factory in Cleveland made me want to scale the fence and run across the empty lot, just to stand under the building’s enormity. I get these urges when we travel to pull over the car and walk across a field, or through a town that I’ve never been before. I wanted these images to tell their own stories.

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a brief moment of solitude in the busy market

cannolis from theresa's bakery

rooster roasters

meah

more pastries from theresa's bakery

a bustling saturday afternoon

a view from a bridge

euclid avenue

garfield monument at lake view cemetery

waiting for an early dinner at melt, cleveland heights

an empty storefront on the west side

getting lost, you never know what you may find.

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For years I spent Christmas away from home, trying to avoid the stress of the holidays. One Christmas in Key West, where I spent 80-degree days riding my bike around the island, getting a kick out of palm trees strung with garland. Another year in Osijek, where half the city celebrated on the 25th, then Epiphany on January 6th. Decorating for the season was slowly catching on, even a decade after the Balkan War, but every once in a while, on my walks home from the Center for Peace, I caught a glimpse of a lighted star in someone’s window. My landlady had a potted tree with blue lights in our courtyard which stayed that way till spring. But now the holidays are a lot easier with Jeff, who cares as much about this time of year as much as I do. We roasted a chicken one year just the two of us, got engaged in Florida the next, went for Chinese at New Dumpling House the next two, and spent an entire weekend snowbound in West Virginia. We have amazing friends who have become our family. I am lucky and thankful, reminding me that maybe this holiday isn’t so bad after all.

sad santa

beaver valley bowl

toronto, ohio

beaver, pa

route 65

Jeff’s band, Twin Towers, played Youngstown’s 3rd annual Pabstolutely festival, featuring 17 bands, lots of tattoos, ironic tees, skateboarding on a giant screen TV and a puke machine. The emcee announced that the first person barfed around 3 pm shortly after we arrived in town, so we knew we were in for a long day.  But for a more innocent, g-rated option to beer, one of the vendors peddled nostalgic candies like Dots and Idaho Spuds, and this is where I discovered  Valomilk, a more chocolate-y, marshmallow-y cousin to Mallo cups. I’m hooked for life. 

John Roman and Twin Towers

Twin Towers

a quiet moment away from the crowd

the infamous puke machine (the man in the photo didn't barf though)

opening scream

JR controlling an overzealous fan

happy

behind the scenes

enjoying the show

he didn't move the whole time I fussed with my camera to take this picture

guest of honor

the warden's room

The lower part of Mansfield is full of empty warehouses and factories, and on a Sunday, it looks like a ghost town. But sit on a bench in the main square and enjoy the discordant circus tunes cranking out of the Richland Carrousel Park. The 52 figurines were hand-carved locally at Carrousel Works and features the kinds of animals one would only ride in fairy tales – an ostrich, a giraffe, and my favorite – a horse with a mermaid’s tail. 

crumbling wall

Our main goal for Mansfield was to tour the notorious Mansfield Reformatory. Once a Civil War army post, the fortress-like structure is most famous for being the movie set for Shawshank Redemption, as well as the video sets for Godsmack, Lil Wayne and Marilyn Manson. Our star-struck tour guide gave us a sanitized, Hollywood version of prison history, and we left there learning very little about the people who once inhabited those cell blocks.

Richland Carrousel Park

Our group was too large, and any time we stopped to take photos, two crabby volunteers who clearly found it annoying that we were taking pictures of peeling paint and broken toilets, told us to keep moving. But the light piercing through the cracked windows was so amazing, that enduring the kindergarten treatment was worth it. 

The black mass in the center was not there when Jeff took this. A ghost?

Up the road from the prison is Biblewalk, Ohio’s ‘only wax museum’ as if every state has a hundred of them. The five of us were psyched to see how kitschy this place would be, but as soon as we walked into the lobby and heard the tinny church music piping through the museum gift shop, a sudden skepticism washed over us. Despite our fears, we paid our $5 and followed a man over to the building next door to see the “Blood of the Christian Martyrs” tour. 

photo by Jeff and me

The man led us into a pitch dark room. He flicked on the lights and explained the only rule – no cameras (of course) — then pressed a button  on a wall and left. There were 13 dioramas, each narrated by a disembodied voice coming somewhere out of the wall. I thought about taking pictures anyhow, but something stopped me. I felt as if something were watching me and it sure wasn’t Him. 

mechanical bible scene in the lobby of Biblewalk

By this time we were worn-out from listening about Godsmack videos and Christian martyr deaths. And hungry. We drove around for over an hour, trying to find a place that was open on a Sunday during Memorial Day weekend. 

sculpture made of discarded jewelry, Biblewalk

Dan found a beer pub in Wooster via the GPS that sounded fine, but it ended up closed. We walked towards the town center and I spotted a pizza joint. “We’re eating there, ” I said, tired of driving around. “It could be the most hideous meal ever or it could be the most awesome food we’ve eaten on this trip.”

the descent. photo by jeff

Matsos is awesome. It’s like walking into your grandmother’s dining room, dark wood and photographs and long tables of families sharing plates. The menu is an extensive mix of Greek and pizza specialties. Jeff and I shared a mozzarella and egg pizza, and Bill ordered  the famous spaghetti pizza.

It is what it sounds like – pizza with spaghetti baked right on it. Mr. Matsos explained to our table that when his son was younger, he was sick one day and wanted something special to eat. So Mr. Matsos made him a pizza with hot dogs, a pizza with cheese and the now-famous spaghetti pie. “I called different cities all over the world,” he said. “No one serves spaghetti pizza anywhere but here.”

sci-fi. photo by jeff.

We finished our meal with bowls of Neapolitan ice cream, courtesy of Mr. Matsos, who also sent us on our drive home with free coffee and iced tea. I left that place sated and happy, wishing it were closer to Pittsburgh.

“It’s because of your pretty camera,” Beth said. “He thinks we’re from the media.”

Of course. The camera. Travelers finding pieces of home away from home. 

exit

starting out in the early morning

Most of our road trips are flea market motivated, and Holmes County Flea promised the largest and best in the area. But this one disappointed us. Picture rows of endless dollar store aisles selling tube socks, bamboo gardens and vanity mugs. Jeff and Dan did find some awesome Amish straw hats for only $5 (made in China) and an armful of Devo-looking white coveralls. 

enjoying a snack from Berlin Chili Traders

Berlin, the Holmes County seat, is the New York City of midwestern Amish country. It was mind-boggling how busy the streets were, a mix of buggies, mini-vans and motorcycles. We bought lemonade from a group of brightly clad Amish children posted outside of a boot shop and were lucky to find free hot dogs, courtesy of Berlin Chili Traders, which we washed down with tiny cups of locally-made shagbark hickory syrup. I was digging the local foods, but the crowd and the heat made us crabby. I was also curious to check out our haunted hotel.  

the only Amish photo I felt comfortable taking

Hotel Millersburg is a beautiful Victorian building right on a main street filled with little antique stores, my favorite — 55 West and Co., filled with drool-worthy, affordable retro furniture and clothing. It’s a sleepy town, and once the shops closed at 5, it was as if everyone disappeared into the walls.

I harbor dreams of small town living in a cottage, or a giant Edwardian home, with an overgrown, shabby English garden. Lots of quiet to get projects done. But then I wonder, where the hell would we go to watch freaky Spanish horror films or eat Indian food? A long way I’m guessing since this part of Ohio feels cut off from the world. 

lost on the side of a road and I saw this

While one cannot get a bowl of mattar paneer in this neck of the woods, one can “have dinner in Switzerland today!” at Chalet in the Valley. We wanted Amish kitsch, but Swiss-kitsch did just fine. Our waitress, dolled-up in a red dirndl and Heidi-braids, encouraged my camera-clicking as we dined on bratwurst, fried chicken and sauerkraut balls, which I have to hunt down the recipe for because they are so amazing. We even had an accordion serenade for our table. And while we spent the rest of the evening getting lost on back country roads, thanks to Bill’s GPS navigator, we still had a hilarious time in Holmes County.

No shoefly pie though. That’s a Pennsylvania Dutch thing. 

Al Zimmerman, polkas and waltzes from the Olde World

Amish hat

Hotel Millersburg lobby

55 West and Co.

cuckoo gallery

Guggisberg Cheese