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36 Hours in Traverse City, Mich.

By Stacey Nield Brugeman May 23, 2024

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By Stacey Nield Brugeman Photographs by Michelle Litvin

Stacey Nield Brugeman writes about food and travel from a 19th-century farmhouse north of Traverse City.

The tranquil beauty of northern Michigan — turquoise freshwater lakes bordered by thousands of miles of sandy, dune-grass-studded coastline and towering white pines — has lured visitors Up North, as the region is known, since the late 19th century. Many flock to Traverse City, at the head of Grand Traverse Bay on Lake Michigan, for the city’s annual cherry festival , vistas that have inspired artists and writers for generations and a seasonally driven culinary scene. Lately, some visitors are staying. Pandemic-era transplants are bringing a new, creative energy: renovating cafes and hotels, selling prints of watercolors at area markets and championing biodynamic winemaking. Thanks to a runway expansion, visitors can now fly nonstop into Cherry Capital Airport from 20 U.S. cities during the summer, when this still blissfully unspoiled and laid-back destination shimmers.

Recommendations

• Compass Rose Sailing Co. takes visitors for an elegant sail on Grand Traverse Bay aboard its historic yacht, Althea.
• Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore offers protected, unencumbered vistas of Lake Michigan, facing west.
• Farm Club , a market, restaurant and brewery, shows the close relationships between farms and kitchens in this region. (It’s also a scenic bike ride from town.)
• Paddle TC rents kayaks and stand-up paddle boards to take out onto Grand Traverse Bay.
• Glen Haven Village , within Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, features historic buildings, a dune hike and access to Lake Michigan.
• Traverse Area Recreation Trail (TART) is a paved path for walking, running, biking and skating throughout Traverse City and beyond.
• Brick Wheels Bike Shop rents road bikes, electric bikes and accessories such as trailers.
• Dennos Museum Center is a small museum that houses contemporary Inuit art and rotating works by Great Lakes artists.
• Modern Bird is an informal but elevated restaurant where a husband-and-wife team, recently relocated from Chicago, scours area farmers’ markets to cook with the seasons.
• The Little Fleet is an open-air spot with multiple food trucks, seasonal cocktails and late hours.
• Bubbie’s Bagels not only boils and bakes its own bagels in-house, it also makes its own seasonal cream cheese.
• The Mill is a recently restored grist mill in Glen Arbor that houses a cafe and restaurant, and displays local art and antiques.
• Grocer’s Daughter Chocolate sells ethically sourced Ecuadorean chocolate and, in the summer, small-batch gelato.
• The Cooks’ House serves five- and seven-course tasting menus that showcase northern Michigan’s agricultural diversity.
• Crocodile Palace offers Sichuan takeout dishes like lip-numbing chicken wings and dan dan noodles.
• NoBo Mrkt serves breakfast sandwiches and coffee in a community cooperative overlooking the Boardman River.
• M22 inks apparel and home goods with the logo of the highway that traces the waterside edges of Leelanau County, a peninsula.
• Becky Thatcher Designs sells jewelry made with a local treasure known as Leland bluestones.
• Sara Hardy Farmers Market gathers farmers and ranchers from all over the region on Saturday mornings.
• Lake District Wine Co offers a thoughtful selection of the best bottles from the Old Mission Peninsula and Leelanau County wine regions.
• Delamar Traverse City , a waterside hotel, recently changed hands and benefited from an impressive remodel. It offers both an indoor and outdoor pool, and its restaurant, Artisan, open for dinner and Sunday brunch, has a sprawling patio overlooking the boat traffic on the west side of Grand Traverse Bay. Rooms start at $290 in June.
• Hotel Indigo Traverse City set off a lodging boom in the area when it opened in 2016. In the Warehouse District and just across Route 31 from the water, the property has 107 rooms, many facing West Bay. In the summer, a rooftop patio is open to all and can be a great place to catch the sunset, which happens late this far north. Rooms start at $270 in June.
• Alexandra Inn , run by second- and third-generation members of a Traverse City hotelier family, is a new property with Nantucket-meets-northern-Michigan vibes. A welcome respite from the hustle of the East Bay Beach District, the hotel offers elevated views of the bay’s ombré blues and convenient beach access at an affordable price point. Rooms start at $175 in June.
• For short-term rentals , Traverse City and its surrounding area are home to many Airbnbs that provide a modern Up North vibe. Many such rentals, however, require a three-night minimum stay (or more) during peak season.
• A rental car is the easiest way to explore the region. While you can take taxis and use ride-hailing apps like Uber at the airport and within Traverse City proper, both can be spotty farther afield. In town, you can ride the BATA bus ($4.50 daily, city loop routes) or rent bicycles to get around.

Kayak rentals from Paddle TC.

Many first-time visitors marvel at how clean and clear the water is in Grand Traverse Bay, which is split into East Bay and West Bay by Old Mission Peninsula. Take a two-hour sunset sail with Compass Rose Sailing Co. aboard a 46-foot racing yacht built by the decorated yachtsman and naval architect Ted Hood in 1963. Once you’re under sail power, listen as the crystalline West Bay waves slap against the navy hull and exhale as the sun sets behind Leelanau County, another peninsula to the west. The private sail costs $430 and accommodates up to six guests. Looking for something that burns more calories and less cash? Rent kayaks ($30, one hour) from Paddle TC and paddle around the sailboats moored in front of the Grand Traverse Yacht Club.

For dinner, reserve seats at the bar at Modern Bird , an informal but elevated restaurant open since 2022 on Traverse City’s west side. Its chefs and owners, a husband-and-wife team, represent a talented new cohort pushing the culinary traditions of the Great Lakes region beyond its fried-fish roots. Try dishes like cold-smoked local carrots with arugula, labneh and spiced almond crunch ($16), and trout crudo with Suttons Bay Shiro plums, pickled serrano chiles and smoked soy sauce ($18). In season, don’t miss the dark chocolate cake served with whipped almond mascarpone and cherry jam ($13), akin to Black Forest gâteau, which is also a nod to the area’s cherry production. (Michigan produces some 70 percent of the country’s tart cherries.)

Locals love the open-air spot the Little Fleet not only for its food trucks (like Juicy Oistre , a traveling fish shack from Ann Arbor), but also for staying open until midnight on weekends. Have a nightcap at the indoor bar, where the drinks change with the seasons. Order whatever sounds as if it was conceived at a roadside farm stand: The All Good, Sweet Pea ($12) is as bright and fresh as snap-pea tendrils, while the dusty purple Concord Negroni ($13) is infused with local grapes. There’s live music on Fridays, so it can be crowded as people first roll into town that evening, but as things cool down, huddle around the outdoor fire pit and see which constellations you can spot this close to the 45th parallel, where you are as close to the North Pole as you are to the Equator.

Lining up at Farm Club’s outside bar on a sunny Sunday.

The Midwest isn’t exactly known for banner bagels, but the ones at Bubbie’s Bagels are the real deal: fermented over two days, boiled and baked in an unassuming strip mall at the foot of Old Mission Peninsula across from Civic Center park. Skip the lines and place an online order for pickup. This summer, select the caraway rye or whole wheat bagel, both of which are now made with locally grown and milled flour. Be sure to ask for a schmear of seasonal cream cheese, which is appropriately generous and made with foraged ramps or area-grown strawberries, depending on the week ($6).

Hit Front Street, Traverse City’s main drag and home to the State Theater , programmed by the filmmaker Michael Moore. Join the crowds at M22 , a store that sells hoodies, water bottles, even candles inked with the name of the highway that nearly circumnavigates the pinkie finger of Michigan’s mitten-like shape. Seek out a more artisanal keepsake at Becky Thatcher Designs , a jeweler known for using Leland bluestones (a byproduct of the iron ore furnaces that operated in the nearby fishing village of Leland until the mid-1880s, which can still be found on area beaches). Ogle a bluestone necklace, bracelet or ring (from $75 to $800). Those who prefer edible purchases can wander over to the Sara Hardy Farmers Market , a few blocks away. You betcha you can grab a pint of wild black raspberries or other micro-seasonal treasures there.

Hop in the car and head northwest toward Glen Arbor, a small resort community of fewer than 1,000 residents when the snow flies. Bob up and down the region’s drumlins (rolling glacial hills), meander past cherry farms and vineyards, and see the boat tie-ups beginning to swell on Leelanau County’s inland lakes. Stop in at the cafe within the Mill , a former grist mill from 1879 on the Crystal River. It reopened last year after a painstaking restoration and features behemoth oak posts and beams and original milling equipment, as well as artwork (check out the giant gherkin pickles painted onto local coffee bags by the Northport artist Jesse Hickman). Order a simple lunch of panzanella salad ($12) and wander out to the back deck, seemingly suspended above the river.

Continue west to Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore , a 70,000-acre stretch of protected forests, sand dunes and shoreline named for a legend of the Anishinaabek (a collective of Native American peoples that live in the Great Lakes region, and beyond); one-day pass, $25. Many tourists flock to the steepest sand dune, known as the Dune Climb, and a seven-mile auto loop called Pierce Stocking Scenic Drive. But Glen Haven , a restored 1920s village north of both, offers history, dune hiking and vistas of Mama Lake, as some locals call the open waters of Lake Michigan, all in one stop. See Glen Haven’s vintage cannery building, boat museum, blacksmith shop and general store before proceeding to the Sleeping Bear Point trailhead to hike about 15 minutes across rolling dunes to the water’s edge. Spot Petoskey stones, fossilized coral unique to the region; take a quick (brisk!) dip; and skip stones toward North and South Manitou Islands in the distance.

Instead of doubling back to Traverse City the way you came, make a loop by continuing south to the town of Empire, stopping in at Grocer’s Daughter Chocolate , a confectionary shop in a Granny Smith green building that hugs the side of the road. The co-owner Jody Hayden, who sells ethically sourced chocolate that is molded into bars, barks and even sleeping bears, added a gelato shop next door in 2022 (opens for the summer on May 25). Ask for a scoop of Ecuadorean milk chocolate or the olive-oil gelato that is made with oil from Fustini’s , a Traverse City importer ($5.50, one scoop). Those who are dairy-free should try the seasonal sorbets, like peach or saskatoon (also known as serviceberry).

The Cooks' House

Back in town, settle into the good care of the hospitality wizards at the Cooks’ House , a 26-seat gem. Respect for ingredients shines in each dish by the chefs, Jennifer Blakeslee and Eric Patterson, who have unmatched relationships with regional farmers and winemakers. The two tasting menus (five or seven courses, $87 or $104) change daily and have inventive, globally inspired touches: A recent asparagus dish came with lentils, smoked whitefish, chive and an aioli made using fried eggs. Didn’t score a seat? Place a to-go order of lip-numbing Sichuan chicken wings ($12) from Crocodile Palace . Grab a bottle of any of the area wines sold at Lake District Wine Co (ask about BOS , by a biodynamic winemaker who recently moved to Michigan from Napa) and throw down a picnic blanket near, but not too near, the beach volleyball nets at Clinch Park.

Music lovers and locals don’t let summer pass without catching a recital or performance at Interlochen Center for the Arts , a boarding school and performance campus 15 miles southwest of Traverse City that attracts teenage prodigies from all over the globe. Travelers tight on time can find world-class music in Traverse City proper as well. Inside Commongrounds Cooperative, a new community-owned development , see a show at the Alluvion , an intimate 150-person performance space with stellar acoustics that hosts funk acts, jazz bands, piano trios, guitar ensembles and more, from Interlochen and well beyond. This summer, its Alluvial Nights series brings together D.J. sets and projections to guarantee dancing well after the late northern Michigan sunset.

Members of a cold-water swim club gathering in Lake Michigan at Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore.

Commongrounds Cooperative

Revisit the Commongrounds building for a completely different experience during daylight hours. Inside is a coffee bar and market in one, NoBo Mrkt , a gathering place where the community conversation is as exciting as the food. Order a cortado and an eggy breakfast sandwich made with 9 Bean Rows ciabatta ($12), settle into a plush stool that overlooks the Boardman River and the north end of Boardman Lake, and eavesdrop as Michiganders compare notes on everything from kitesurfing and freshwater fishing to regenerative farming and Line 5 (the oil and gas pipeline, opposed by environmentalists and tribal nations , that runs under the Straits of Mackinac).

Benjamin Maier Ceramics at Farm Club

Rent a bike from Brick Wheels ($35, four hours) and ride north on the Traverse Area Recreation Trail (TART) . Pedal past the Leelanau Conservancy ’s 191-acre DeYoung Natural Area, a historic farmstead. At Lake Leelanau Drive, take a right on the boardwalk, downshift and push up the gravel path to Farm Club , equal parts produce market, restaurant and brewery, to be first in line for lunch at noon. Hit the onsite market for ceramic tableware by the area artist Benjamin Maier before cruising back to town. A 14-mile round-trip bike ride not in your wheelhouse? Stop at the Dennos Museum Center , which has a permanent collection of contemporary Inuit art, as well as rotating installations: See the colorful, often-floral paintings of the Detroit-based Chinese American painter Louise Jones, also known as Ouizi , from June 21 through Sept. 1.

Because of an editing error, an earlier version of this article misstated the name of a trail. It is the Traverse Area Recreation Trail, not the Traverse City Recreation Trail.

Have a weekend to explore a destination? We’ve got the perfect travel itinerary.

Colorado Springs: ​​Colorado’s second-largest city, which brims with outdoor activities , is enticing visitors with a new museum and revamped hotels.

Minneapolis: Springtime is best for exploring this Midwestern city’s lakeside trails, robust arts scene and top-notch restaurants .

Maui: The beauty and hospitality of this Hawaiian island, still recovering from last year’s wildfires, remain as vibrant as ever .

Toronto: Savor the diversity of this lakefront city through its hidden bars, small-but-fascinating museums and vibrant restaurants .

Cape Town: Take a food and storytelling tour, cruise one of the world’s most beautiful coastal drives and see contemporary African art in this city with stunning views in every direction .

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Rackets & Words

The Bike Tour of something pertaining to beyond Heaven

An original story.

What I wanted to do was get away by myself. There are no more complications to the matter. It would either have been one of two definitions of the word. One, a situation that I was considering, or two, the reason for distress or a problem. People often say the words “what’s the matter?” to a loved one, and while we think we say it with the utmost care and sincerity and make sure we say it well and with the best, most loving intentions, this time, the syllables often scatter to dust. I think this duality of meaning for a word is also fraught with tiresome complications. But I will get one thing straight, it was definitely a “matter” where I wanted to travel somewhere, to experience something new and potentially dazzling, and it also, at points, turned into an experience where there were “matters” at hand; minorly troubling things that pierced my conscience and ate away at me for a long while. But it made for a splendid array of great and memorable events, and knowing they are still a part of myself, whether I like it or not, make it a story worth telling.

I like to think around the period of where this warm, adventurous tale happened was an unknown portion of my young adulthood where I was attempting to get on with the things that pertained to what we call life and its vocations, but for the sake of literary astuteness and time, you will have to come back with me to the year of 2017. Unfortunately, things were weighing up in their weekly chaos. I was out of school, now twenty years of age, and had so far as to put it bluntly, exhausted many of the avenues that were available to me, and at that present time in a fluxing, ponderous circumstance as to whether I should either go back to school and bury myself in the swell of books and literature available to me, try and become a sports commentator or journalist (which was a great calling of mine since my youth), or try and become so multifariously talented in a way that I did not yet know.

After one real go at the sports commentary, upon which taking notes and preparing for the sporting games themselves were vitally necessary, I was sadly turned down from the opportunity at a minor sporting outlet that commentated on Non-league Football Matches. After a few failed attempts at proving solid enough at the time to gain a temporary job as a shop assistant, or a bartender, I turned back to physical sporting pursuits.

I often cycle to many destinations, and while I was not a handyman with a tyre, puncture, or break-block, I somehow knew that it was my mode of transport to get to-and-fro. I had been a courier sometime before, and had even cycled a half-marathon once just shy of my sixteenth year, so I knew how to get around well on a pushbike. I believe at the time it was an amicable two-wheeler, a Carrera Crossfire-One ; a hybrid road-and-countryside model, long since stolen, though had served me well since the Summer I made the purchase not a year before. I took this pushbike to many places, though perhaps the first ride with it proper was one of the most memorable.

There is a sense of poignancy with what I am about to relay, but it will prove fitting with the wider story and events around this time, and how I came to fall in love with this bike. I was at the time still couriering from the Spring into the Summer of 2016 with a company that delivered food to local neighbourhoods, but tragedy struck me and my family during this period. My paternal grandmother passed away in January of 2016, after a severe stroke, of which she had suffered multiple in recent years. My dear grandfather and the husband of my nanny was able to visit her in hospital during this month before she passed, even though he was sadly in the later stages of vascular dementia - a neurodegenerative disease - that had been affecting his cognition since he was around eighty years old.

What me, my father, and my uncle were doing in the early Summer was redecorating my grandparents’ house in Chingford. Not only the recent passing of Nan, but my grandfather’s decline was weighing large on us. Luckily, my father, uncle, and close circle of friends kept me focused on what I needed to do. This in my mind was trying to keep a focus firmly on the path ahead. I bought a new tennis racket and did drills in my garden; practicing my soft, lumbered swing, and perfecting my ball toss. I always parodied Roger Federer with the ball toss, which is to keep the felt yellow ball loose in your palm, and keep your eye in line with the toss at all times, in line with your stance. Never deviate.

Into the Spring of 2017, I decided almost on a whim to escape on my Carrera bike on a darkening evening in late May. That evening I ended up booking into a Travelodge in Reading, in the English county of Berkshire. It was a dreary, sultry night. I locked my pushbike up at a very nearby bike stand, purchased some chips from a local seller, and took up my bedsit in the hotel.

The following day I woke up to the news that the Conservatives had won the General Election, forming a minority government led by Theresa May. Even though I had cast my vote with Labour on polling day, I was quite certain this outcome would happen based on the Exit Poll. This was due to how I had ended up in the communities outside of London. It was a political choice to follow the election on polling day. I do not necessarily believe that it was out of wonder, but more an act of will, to survey communities. And it led to disastrous results for me personally.

While my bicycle bared the brunt of the rain from the previous evening, it was still luckily in good shape to get to my next destination on the Friday of that week. I ended up cycling from Reading, and onto the Kennet and Avon Canal Cycle Route. I aimed for the market town of Devizes in the neighbouring county of Wiltshire. Of course, there were a few glitches along the way. Soon after I got on the canal, after a couple of miles, when the gold concrete pathway beside the river was narrowing, my front tyre swerved at a lock, and my left foot plunged into the water. I became smitten with this scenario, though not without great embarrassment to the few passers-by who happened to witness this absolutely ridiculous encounter. I tried to shade over the stupidity as much as I could, although I ended up having to utter with a look up and a slight wave of the hand: “For heaven’s sake, I best get on my way!” I was met with horrid glances, and various walkers and workers around the canal-side making sure that I was not just humanely okay, but wanting to verify that I was actually around myself to check that things were in order.

I eventually got off the canal at a junction and took to the country roads. This seemed a better scenario than going all out on the canal route. The roads opened up into green and grey expanses with sunny leaves and tarmac and a splutter of sheltered and enveloped passages. The undulating B-roads of the English countryside gave me a stern and whirring challenge, and I embraced it. As the day gradually got brighter and warmer I was having to think about pausing at particular spots on corners, unfurling my long camping bag off my back, taking sips of water, and staying fuelled with some bars of food I had saved.

By the time I reached the edge of the civil parish and market town of Devizes, I cycled into it in a sweltering heap. Though because I had packed well with a range of shirts, trousers, and tools, I was well kitted. It must of been about 3pm when I got into the centre of the town, reaching its Travelodge nearby a retail park, and I checked-in for the day. I explored the market town for a while that evening, then decided I would make it to Bath the following day.

On the Saturday, I went back on the Kennet and Avon Canal Cycle Route. It had many sharp turns and deviations, from hard road to soft twig, narrow to wide, and a range of other glorious and sometimes bizarre pieces of scenery. It must have been passing noon, with a mix of light rain and sun, and I saw the precipice of nature bleeding beautifully with little urban gems; cutthroat brick and livelihood making one’s eyelashes flutter and be filled with a sense of true travel and experiencing the country’s array of dotted colour and newness. It made me want to capture what I was seeing in paint and blocks and minute filaments. I definitely did attempt to, but it led the way for being so tiny and fleeting that I was running away from it in a twinning of my creative resources, and of my memory.

When I approached the city of Bath - my second visit there in my lifetime - I knew I would be checking in at a Youth Hostel (or Youth Hostel Association, “YHA”). I paid a reasonable fee for the shared room, as well as paying for my bicycle security while lodged.

I took up my bunk in a quite crammed room, and was met with a snoring man, and a few other patrons quietly passing in and out. Many bedsits were as yet unmade, although this was due to the design of the bunks. Soon after I had settled in there, a couple of other men came in to take up residence, and more than made their presence felt. If anything, it was not a stop for this, it was to continue my tour of the country the next day.

When light poured in in the following morning, I targeted the Bristol & Bath Railway Path. It was daylight robbery, in the sense that I had stolen away from events going on all around. The railway path was a dual passage of metal tracks that bisected with the cycle lane. My pushbike clambered at checkpoints, when Bristol began to appear in the headwind and on the horizon.

I knew in Bristol that things would not resolve themselves, though even then you only had to see. The small museum dedicated to the National Cycle Network was located in Bristol’s centre, and I took the night in a hostel.

I went on to Avon and the Welsh border to Newport. I could tell things were getting shaky, along with the heat on the road. When I lodged in to a hotel on the Commercial Road in Newport, I watched events unfold, the games that were being played by nobodies, political spies, transport officials, religious people that took refuge at street corners, and set off for Hereford by the Monday.

When I got on the path to Worcester the next morning in an attempt to reach the midlands, and then Staffordshire, I knew it was becoming a matter of social suicide. Stopping in Birmingham for a night, then getting back on the road to reach Burton-on-Trent, my mind was pelted with stone.

Getting to Stoke-on-Trent by the Tuesday, my wheels scurrying and grazing, I found a hotel by one of the retail parks in the suburbs. This was the moment when I turned into socials, and saw what was happening. A smoke. On the screen in the hotel reports of a breakout. I blinked and collapsed.

The colours on the screen were of a greyness of nothing I’d ever seen before. Then I started to try and read the headline. It was taking over me. The… no. It was a tower. The images protruding of a fire cutting a building. Grenfell, shredding. Go home, I thought.

When I walked into Stoke city centre via a very tiresome walk from its train station, up a park hill, and eventually into its small yet hilly expanse, I went into a pub and tried to follow what was going on back in London. I ordered a meal of some sort that pertained to pub grub, listening to the clink and humdrum, careless whispers about the UK General Election, and that word on people’s lips that they dare not think about uttering. “Fir…”, and still they could not end it. “A tow e …”, no. You dare, you collapse along with the medley.

That was probably the final second when I either struggled to finish my meal, or feared I could walk outside and bottle someone for even thinking to mention that a tower block in the city where I called home was burning. Concrete cladding, black, shadowed windows pulsing out smoke and rubble. May, 2017. This , was what I had done.

I have been called many things under the sun since the 2000s; “larry”, “lob”, “lofty”, definitely an “idiot”, “arse”, and “baby woos”, none of which I carry as lies or aim to carry myself as a nadir of dimly cut truths and messages of meaningless cruciality, but if am stared at too long by a person who is going to say my name and even think about following this with: “he’s a murder”, “an arsonist”, “a killer” of the most Delphic kind, then they do in fact say the most heavenly words from the Saturn clouds and rings.

Although show me a person who willed to start a fire of the most bloodthirsty and falling magnitude. This was what I thought about when Grenfell was falling to rubble. Then waking up the next day with a load of unwashed clothes and depleting water and resources in my camp bag, I headed out of Stokes suburbs and targeted Manchester.

This was about when I probably had my first puncture. I ended up having to go back and forth, slinking the frame and wheels through the Staffordshire and eventually Derbyshire Dales. To be brutally honest, I did not know where or what part of the country it was. I ended up in a town called Macclesfield. It was perilously hot, my helmet dobbed on me like a button, my skin close to sizzling, and I still had to try and follow the train times to get to the city of Manchester. Where they even running? Luckily they were.

I grabbed the light white frame of my bike, its weird ovulating wheel not even daring to commit a perfect revolution. Flat as a pancake, spinning in whipping circles and speed of light lines. So I dragged it and left in the gap while I took my seat on the train. I listened to a bunch of drunkard Manchurians - they might have all been from Mexico for all I know - chatting about their jolly lives, voices beaming with a beautiful mix of boredom and excitement about the big match today. “ What match?” I thought.

In all fairness I didn’t bother asking. I ended up sleeping beside them while they raved about Jose Mourinho and all the other great players. That was what I wanted to see the most when I got there. I wanted to at least come away from the city, and say that I had visited Old Trafford. I definitely wanted to see the City of Manchester Stadium as well, but because I had always grown up an Arsenal fan, it was the redness that I seeked.

Manchester Victoria Station I came out of. Then I walked from the grand station, and headed into the city. It was big and blocky. Much like a map with no grass hills, merely sharp, overhanging mountains, brick and grit. Crescent Meadow, Angel Park, the National Football Museum, the Printworks.

I got a map at the first sight and corner I reached, smiled at the array of colours and districts there were to visit. I was never going to reach them all, although I knew Manchester was the place to be going into the Summer of 2017.

I checked into a hostel located in one of the districts. It was in the guise of a green, sort of hippy place. I cannot remember the exact name, although it definitely wasn’t YHA. The staff on shift were kind, if not a little overworked because of the news and events going on. Reaching the room on one of the upper floors, I placed my long camping bag down, got out my Tupperware containers, and headed for the shared kitchen space. I had made a Chilli sin carne.

Soon after coming back to the warming pot, of which there was now quite a bit of chilli inside, I felt the presence of a person ambling around me and waiting to see what I was going to eat.

“ Well … what is this? ” he muttered in a foreign voice.

I stared back in a hot daze, and I realised it was an older man with a t-shirt and shorts. “He must be lost”, I thought to myself.

“It’s a chilli. I’m about to have dinner.” I said.

“ Oh my goodness .” He began talking again. “You know, it has been a while since I had that to eat.”

I carried on stirring the pot, then said: “You can join me if you wish. It is rather hot, though. Or warm, I don’t know how you say -”

“ Oh it is fine . I may just have a bit. But I have got my tea, so I will be fine.” He carried on in his foreign voice.

“Sorry… I’m Lawrence. I do not speak your language. Where are you originally from?” I said dimwittedly as I took my chilli to a chair. The older gentleman followed me nicely, and I gave him a knowing smile.

“Ah, my name is… Jan. I have another longer name in my native language, but I will not bother you.”

“No, that’s okay. I am sorry for being trouble. Let’s have our dinner, Jan.”

At this, I made out he may have been Dutch.

“Mm. It is very good. Lawrence, why , how did you make it?” Jan said.

“ Make it?” I responded.

“ Mm. It is so lovely. I will have a sip of some tea now, too.”

I smiled back at Jan. “I wish I could tell you in your language. I just made it the other day. I brought it with me, to this place. I had it saved. You see, I am on a journey -”

“A journey ? Waarom Lawrence, je bent er al.” Jan said.

“You see. I am already here. I do not speak your… you know.”

“I can teach you some Dutch, Lawrence. It is not that different.”

“No?” I asked.

“No, not at all.” Jan said.

Me and Jan carried on our convalescence in the hostel kitchen, discussing a range of things. I found out that he was a warm and lovely person of the most familial kind, was an ambler, a social worker, a lover of tea, of sports and culture, and we shared a good bond of respect and understanding - even though bridging the divide of language was hard.

Later that evening, as the melee in the hostel grew larger, me and Jan met a woman named Elizabeth, who had come into the social space and kitchen to settle. She was from Mexico, and she was particularly interested in what me and Jan were banging on about jovially.

“Hello, guys, may I sit?” Elizabeth said.

“Of course,” I said. And then I realised Jan was speaking as well, so I shut up.

“ We just happen , to be talking about how we ended up here…” Jan said.

“Yeah, must be the buses or something or, other… err, sorry,” and that’s when I asked the girl’s name. That’s when me, Jan, and Elizabeth formed a triangle of friendship on that evening in Manchester - or Mad chester, as they say.

We headed out the next day. It was a stupendously beautiful day. Warm sun and light. The road in Manchester was firm and gritty. The three of us; me, Jan, and Elizabeth, clambering on the pathway to heaven of some kind. This was what eventually became that grand place of Old Trafford.

We got to the area with some difficulty. I knew I had left my bike locked up in the city centre, and that was when some very hard things began to occur.

“How do I get over the fence here?” I was found yelling out to the other two. - this was because to get to where we wanted to be we had to breach a security gate to get over this fence on the canal-side, to eventually reach the stadium.

“Go that way, through the gap.” Jan said.

I followed his instruction. Then I found a way through the meshing. The pathway was stony, in some ways sandy. My shoes were cracking on the gravel, like how crickets buzz their wings, and as the sun shone straightforwardly on my knees, I thought about how difficult it would be to finally face the place that I had dreamt of seeing. Though had never been to before.

The three of us walked for a very long time. I was drooping with sweat and grazes like a dummy, completely empty of gut and courage. And that is when I finally began to see the red and white lights of Old Trafford looming in the distance like the sun. Burning triumphantly; grandness, nobility, absolute class. Bobby Charlton, Anthony Martial, Ian Brown, Morrissey, L.S. Lowry; they had all been to this place.

And now I was here. I had made it. I looked at the red, the glass, the box-like perfection of this stadium that bared the timeless jewels of existence and honour. The place of cultural and footballing fortitude. One would not dare stamp on the fruits and pure gloriousness and glamour of Manchester. Manchester in its might. I tried to flick an eyelid at Jan and get him to appreciate the glory of English Football, and he simply fell thin of idea.

“This is it”, I whispered.

“It certainly is.” said Jan.

It would be fair to say that Dutch courage and football had never seen a stadium like this one. The lettering and lights of “MANCHESTER UNITED FC” printed like zeniths on this home of art and history. I think I broke down at the sheer mastery and majesty of this product. Which wasn’t a product; it was built on an empty temple of red and light. Blood, excitement, arrows of time. Beaming absolutely fearsomely. I saw the statues and dedicatory roses and flags. People ending at the ground and entrance. And I let it consume myself; swallowed like red hot water.

Me and Jan sat like still, dead trophies on the cobbles outside the ground. Elizabeth went and paid for the tour of inside of Old Trafford. She took a particularly long time, and me and Jan both knew it was because Manchester had swallowed her whole. If there was not anything left, or a place to be, I thought it might as well of been because you wanted a piece of the place. The place that swarmed and centred around love and winning of the best kind. Me and Jan smiled to each other, and knew this was the place of divine football, that would never be seen again.

To be continued…

Ready for more?

'It's just about the journey': New Dollywood exhibits take guests through Parton's life

• The Dolly Parton Experience is a new attraction at Dollywood that opened on Friday.
• The experience is made up of various exhibits that showcase her life and storied career.
• Due to the high demand anticipated upon its initial opening, guests will need timed-entry tickets from May 24 to June 2 during most times of day.

Before Dolly Parton was a global music superstar with her own theme park , she was a Nashville newcomer writing home to her family. 

Over the speakers inside Songteller, a new walk-through exhibition space at Dollywood , visitors can hear her read from a letter she wrote to her parents after her move to Music City. “I got to Nashville OK, and I thought I’d better write and let you know ‘cause I knew you’d worried about me, and I don’t want to be worried about me ‘cause I’m gonna be alright,” she said. “If I try long enough and hard enough, someday I’ll make it.”

That she did. Songteller, part of the new Dolly Parton Experience that opened at the park on Friday, tells visitors what led up to that moment and what happened next. The attraction is made up of various exhibits that showcase her life and storied career.

“I hope that's what people can feel,” Parton told USA TODAY. “It's just about the journey.”

What is the new Dolly Parton Experience?

Housed in multiple buildings, the experience is triple the size of the Chasing Rainbows Museum, which closed at the end of the 2021 season.

Songteller, located in that museum’s former space, takes guests from Parton’s childhood through her early days in Nashville and eventual icon status. Visitors can see a replica of the coat of many colors her mother made for her – alongside a photo of the dry cleaning receipt she wrote the song of the same name on – learn about how she met husband Carl Dean at a laundromat , and see her guitars on display. Those include an acoustic Gibson covered in paisley-pattern rhinestones that she used during a 2005 tour.

Footage from many of her performances and films is sprinkled throughout, but an immersive 360-degree projection mapped show takes viewers to Dolly’s childhood home in Locust Ridge, Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium and other landmarks from her life.

In the building directly opposite – formerly the Dolly’s Closet boutique – Behind the Seams feels like stepping into a giant walk-in closet. The exhibit features Parton’s clothing, shoes, wigs and more. Some, like a bell-bottom jumpsuit designed by Lucy Adams that Parton wore on her 1970s variety show “Dolly,” have never been displayed. Guests can also play stylist and dress a cartoon version of Parton in different outfits using magnets.

Rebecca Seaver, Dolly’s niece and director of museum and archive services, said her aunt is “known for her songwriting and her look, and so it's nice to have all of those facets of who she is kind of represented in a really, really stunning way.”

Parton blushes at some of her past looks when she looks back, though. “I just laugh out loud sometimes,” she said. “I thought, ‘What was I thinking? Was I really serious?’ Now, I know I was because nobody would make such a fool of themselves if they didn’t think they were looking good. And I guess at that time, it was kind of acceptable.”

“But, of course, I still have big hair,” she added. “But, you know, you can kind of tame it a little.”

At the entrance to Dreamsong Theater, guests can listen to Parton tell stories about her family and faith as part of the Precious Memories exhibit while they wait to see a show. The narration appears alongside childhood photos and footage with her relatives. “We had her record the stories in studio,” said Cyndi McCormack, vice president of guest experience at Dollywood and creative director of the Dolly Parton Experience. “We believe Dolly tells her own stories better than any of us.”

Dolly’s Home-on-Wheels, one of her former motor coaches in service from 1994-2009, was also relocated to a new spot in the Dolly Parton Experience, and there is a new on-site boutique, Dolly’s Fan Shop, with exclusive items.

Do I need tickets for the Dolly Parton Experience?

Due to the high demand anticipated upon its initial opening, guests will need timed-entry tickets from May 24 to June 2 during most times of day (tickets are only required to access Songteller and Behind the Seams and are separate from park admission).

Visitors can choose from 30-minute entry slots between 10 a.m. and 4:30 p.m., though they can then stay in the area as long as they want. Guests can register online . Tickets are not required after 5 p.m. The park will reevaluate whether to extend the timed-ticket system after June 2.

Who can visit the Dolly Parton Experience?

The experience is open to all guests.

Does Dolly Parton ever visit Dollywood?

Dolly visits regularly on the down low to take care of business, but she also makes several public appearances at the park each year, according to a blog post on Dollywood's website . That could mean walking on stage at a show to surprise visitors or riding through the park in her antique car.

Hello Dolly!: Dollywood theme park will keep you (and your kids) entertained 9 to 5

Does the Dolly Parton Experience cost extra?

The experience is free, but visitors must have valid park admission. One-day theme park tickets start at $92 for guests between 10 and 61, with discounts available for younger children and seniors.

The Dolly Parton Experience is the latest new attraction at Dollywood, which announced a 10-year, half-billion dollar investment campaign in 2021. And Parton foresees more growth.

“That's what's great about dreams,” she said. “You dream new dreams every day, and dreams expand. And I've always said you put wings and feet and legs on them.”

Nathan Diller is a consumer travel reporter for USA TODAY based in Nashville. You can reach him at [email protected]

The Key Points at the top of this article were created with the assistance of Artificial Intelligence (AI) and reviewed by a journalist before publication. No other parts of the article were generated using AI. Learn more .

Rajasthan Bike Tour: A Journey Through Culture, Cuisine, and History on Two Wheels

Discover Rajasthan on Two Wheels - Your Essential Biking Tour Guide

Gear up for an exhilarating 8-day biking adventure through Rajasthan's stunning landscapes and historic cities. 

From the bustling bazaars of Jaipur to the serene sand dunes of Khuri, this tour takes you through Rajasthan's rich tapestry of culture, cuisine, and heritage.

The Most Iconic Part?

Highlights include the majestic Mehrangarh Fort in Jodhpur, the golden hues of Jaisalmer Fort, and the tranquil Pushkar Lake. Whether you're a seasoned biker or a curious traveler, this guide promises a journey filled with adventure and unforgettable experiences.

Are you ready to explore the royal roads of Rajasthan? Let's kick-start this incredible biking tour!

This 8-day biking tour starts and ends in Jaipur, taking you through the key highlights of Rajasthan. The route passes through Pushkar, Jodhpur, Jaisalmer, Khuri Sand Dunes, and Bikaner before returning to Jaipur.

Day 1: Jaipur

• Arrive in Jaipur.
• Bike briefing and check-up
• Explore local sights in Jaipur.

Day 2: Jaipur to Pushkar

• Ride via backroads to Sambhar Lake.
• Ride through salt flats.
• Return to the highway and continue to Pushkar.

Day 3: Pushkar to Jodhpur

• Visit Mehrangarh Fort and Jaswant Thada in Jodhpur.
• Ride to Jodhpur via the NH21 highway.

Day 4: Jodhpur to Jaisalmer

• Ride via Pokhran to Jaisalmer.
• Explore Jaisalmer Fort.
• Stay in Haveli in Jaisalmer.

Day 5: Jaisalmer to Khuri Sand Dunes

• Ride via Tannot Mata and Longewala.
• Witness the sunset among the sand dunes.

Day 6: Khuri to Bikaner

• Ride along the Indira Gandhi Canal to Bikaner.
• Explore Bikaner

Day 7: Bikaner to Jaipur

• Visit Karni Mata Temple.
• Return to Jaipur.

The tour can be done on your own motorbike or a rented one.

A mix of heritage Hawi hotels and desert camps. Options are available for all budgets.

No special permits are required for Indian nationals. For foreign nationals, please check the Rajasthan tourist visa requirements.

October to February are the best times. Daytime temperatures are around 20–30 °C. Winters can be quite chilly in desert areas.

The route has a mix of good highways, rural roads, sandy tracks, and dirt trails. Be prepared for occasional bad stretches.

Arrive in Jaipur and meet the tour leader and fellow riders. Get introduced to the bikes and go through a detailed briefing about the tour ahead. Later, set out to explore the bustling bazaars and iconic monuments of Jaipur. Overnight stay in Jaipur

Key attractions in Jaipur:

• Amber Palace
• City Palace
• Jantar Mantar
• Johari Bazaar

After breakfast, gear up for the first actual riding day. For a change from monotonous highways, we take the backroads from Jaipur leading towards Sambhar Lake. The route passes through rustic villages, fields, and desert landscapes.

After spending some time at the Sambhar salt flats, we join the highway and ride towards Pushkar. Arrive in time to catch the sunset over the tranquil Pushkar Lake. Overnight in Pushkar

Distance: 141 km

Duration: 3–4 hours

Key attractions in Pushkar:

• Pushkar Lake
• Brahma Temple
• Savitri Temple
• Evening Aarti at Ghats

Post breakfast, we make our way to Jodhpur through the smooth and winding NH21 highway. On reaching the blue city, we check out the mighty Mehrangarh Fort, Jaswant Thada, and the old city bazaars before calling it a day.

Distance: 179 km.

Duration: 4–5 hours

Key attractions in Jodhpur:

• Mehrangarh Fort
• Jaswant Thada
• Ghanta Ghar
• Old city bazaar

Today we hit the road early for our longest riding day. We pass through the quintessential desert towns of Pokhran and Phalodi before arriving at the golden city of Jaisalmer by early evening. Spend the evening walking through the golden sandstone Jaisalmer fort. Overnight in a Hilton hotel

Distance: 264 km.

Duration: 4-5 hours

Key attractions in Jaisalmer:

• Jaisalmer Fort
• Patwon ki Haveli
• Salim Singh ki Haveli
• Gadisar Lake

We take the scenic route from Jaisalmer towards the sand dunes of Khuri. En route, we visit the Tanot Mata Temple and the historic Longewala battle site. Catch an unforgettable sunset against the golden sand dunes at Khuri before an evening of music and dance by the campfire.

Distance: 53 km.

Duration: 1-2 hours

Attractions covered:

• Lodhurva Jain Temples
• Tanot Mata Temple
• Longewala War Memorial

We leave the desert behind and ride towards Bikaner today. The highlight is a picturesque ride along the Indira Gandhi Canal for nearly 160 km. Arrive in Bikaner by late afternoon and take a stroll through the colorful old town.

Distance: 365 km

Duration: 6–7 hours

Key attractions in Bikaner:

• Junagarh Fort
• Lalgarh Palace
• Karni Mata Temple
• Old town markets

On our last day, we ride back to Jaipur, the starting point of our tour. En route, we visit the unique Karni Mata Temple at Deshnok before continuing onwards to Jaipur. Upon arrival, you have the rest of the day free to explore local bazaars or monuments that were missed at the start of the tour. Celebrate the journey with a farewell dinner and drinks together.

Distance: 335 km

Duration: 6-7 hours

• Karni Mata Temple, Deshnok
• Always follow the tour leader's instructions.
• Ride in formation and maintain group riding discipline.
• Adhere to all traffic rules.
• No stunts or rash riding is allowed.
• Communicate about health or bike problems.
• Carry all documents and bike papers.
• Get your bike serviced before the ride.
• Avoid using mobile phones while riding.
• Carry a first-aid kit and medicines along.
• Keep cash for payments in remote areas.
• Be prepared for varying weather conditions.
• Driving License
• Bike RC Book and Insurance Paper
• Aadhaar Card
• Hard copies of hotel bookings
• Riding jacket and pants with armor
• Knee-length riding shoes
• Comfortable cotton clothes for sightseeing
• Warm innerwear for cold nights in the desert
• Rain protection like ponchos and waterproof covers for bags
• A small first-aid kit
• Important medicines
• Snacks like dry fruits and energy bars
• Spare zip-lock bags
• Hand sanitizer, masks, and gloves
• Water bottle, electrolytes
• Gadget chargers
• Toiletries: soap, sunscreen, etc.
• Basic tool kit
• Bungee cords to strap luggage
• Bike documents
• Extra engine oil sachets
• Getting your bike ready for the challenging ride through Rajasthan is important. Some key checks:
• Get your bike serviced and check for oil leaks.
• Examine the suspension and swing arm bush.
• Check the chain, sprockets, and clutch plate.
• Install new brake pads if they are worn out.
• Check the battery terminal and charge
• Ensure tires have adequate tread depth.
• Stock up on engine and brake oil.
• Riding in desert areas calls for extra preparation, like:
• Get front fork oil seals replaced to prevent sand ingress.
• Check and repair any oil leaks.
• Get wheel bearings checked.
• Carry extra spark plugs suited to desert use.
• Carry a tubeless puncture repair kit.
• Pack light and minimal. Avoid hard luggage like metal boxes.
• Use soft bags, duffels, or rucksacks to strap on your bike.
• Carry a waterproof luggage cover.
• Ensure valuables are in waterproof pouches.
• Pack clothes that dry quickly and are easy to wash.
• Carry versatile footwear like sports sandals.
• Pack medicines, a first-aid kit, and snacks in easily accessible pockets.
• Get plastic wrap for electronics to keep out dust.
• Carry just one debit or credit card. Keep spare cash and cards securely in your inner bags.
• Leave behind jewelry and other expensive items.
• Always follow the instructions of the tour leader.
• Stick to the riding formation.
• Wear complete riding gear, including knee guards.
• Carry hard copies of all documents.
• Respect local culture and traditions.
• Avoid indulging in rash riding or stunts.
• Maintain distance from other vehicles on the road.
• Stay hydrated and take frequent breaks.
• Inform the crew if you feel unwell at any time.
• Carry your trash back and avoid littering.
• Be a responsible traveler and leave the minimum footprint.

Rajasthan's expansive landscapes, royal fortresses, colorful cultures, and mouthwatering cuisine will guarantee an unforgettable biking holiday! With some preparation, safety precautions, and planning, you can embark on a once-in-a lifetime Rajasthan biking tour.

We hope this Rajasthan Biking Tour Guide has sparked your enthusiasm for an unforgettable adventure on two wheels. 

If you've already traversed these routes or have stories to share, we'd love to hear from you in the comments below.

For more insights and articles on biking adventures, don't forget to visit our New Bikes category. 

And if you're gearing up for a journey like this, consider a high quality touring bike like the Bajaj Dominar and equipping yourself with a reliable touring bike to enhance your experience.

Embark on a ride through Rajasthan's stunning landscapes and rich heritage, creating memories that will last a lifetime. Prepare your motorcycle, pack thoughtfully, and get ready for a journey that transcends the ordinary.

Answer the call of the open road, immerse yourself in the vibrant culture and breathtaking beauty of Rajasthan, and make your mark as a true explorer.