When I told people I was going to Kansas City, American or not, 9 out of 10 gave me a “Why, Really?” kind of response. But seeing my passport stencilled with the motto any place not been is worth visiting (not literally, obvo), I wasn’t much bothered with the disapproving comments, decided to discard my doubts, pack in 3 week’s worth of excitement, curiosity, and travelled like happy Charlie going to Wonka’s factory .
In spite of a few problems at the airport, I couldn’t be more contented with my trip to KC. Or in other words, lustred with the glossiest American accent, it was sooooo awesome!
We stayed at the Country Club Plaza for the entire three weeks and were pampered with the convenience of having a wide range of shops on the doorstep (from Banana Republic to Victoria’s Secret) and an overflowing amount of Midwest hospitality.
People have such buoyant spirits like they were dipped in buckets of sunshine and space isn’t a luxury, making the trip a perfect breather before our move to London which is perpetually bursting at its seams.
The weekend drive to the City Farmers’ Market, where we’d fill the boot with pineapple and $1-for-1 lbs cherries; taking a spin at downtown KC and treating ourselves to a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Red Velvet Cake ice-cream(a flavour that we’ve not seen in the UK!); browsing DVDs at vending machine; holing up in Jack Stack BBQ to feast on those honey-glazed ribs… these are few of my favourite times in KC that I will always remember fondly.
We took a long drive out to the countryside one Saturday and stumbled across Missouri Town 1855.
It’s a large living history village, encompassing residential houses, barns and many other buildings (like church, mercantile store, school, tavern etc) from the mid-19 century. The village is a mere reconstruction of old-time Missouri but the buildings were real where people actually lived and worked in.
^ A souvenir shop at the entrance
The lady garbed in traditional costume took us through the life of a family in Missouri, where women and children slept in a room separated from the men, and “only the men’s room has a bathtub because they smell so much after their work!”. There were chicken and herbs in the garden and the help that once dwelt in the room next to the kitchen was a “free man”. She was such great story-teller, making this particular house the most arresting of the lot.
Sheep roamed around freely. There were also horses and pigs.
We spent around two hours in the village, peering into barns and bungalows, feeling utterly grateful for our privileges and possessions. Imagine eking out a life in an era deprived of modern technology!
Not quite romantic.
And just as we were ready to drive home, these little ones came to bid goodbye.
I swear she’s related to Sven from Frozen.
Even though I don’t have strong disposition to life in countryside, it was a good visit that imported some novelty to our usual, very urban routine.
It is certainly not something I do every weekend, watching a sheep drink its water and communicating in such profound level with an elk. But I don’t see how I can’t make this a routine.
With love x