For
years I've tried to convince my closest girlfriend to
escape the chilly Pennsylvania winter and visit me in
sunny California. Carrie and I had built a strong bond
during our high school years in western New York: cheerleading,
slumber parties, broken hearts, family dramas. But some
of our fondest memories resulted from a summer getaway
together to a cabin on a small lake in Canada.
Carrie's
parents (who were waiting on the other end) trusted
us enough to make the four-hour drive over the border
on our own (at 16) and we laughed our way across the
New York State Thruway. Ogling at boys in sports cars,
we ate tuna sandwiches and popped M&Ms into our
mouths without any concern for calories. That girlhood
trip planted the tiny seedlings that later sprouted
into my great love affair with the road.
Recreating
that first experience of travel - the two of us eating
and talking about boys all day (I'm single, she's divorced)
- was something we'd both been craving. But as a single
mom without family nearby it's hard for Carrie to go
too far for too long. As such, I said goodbye to the
bright Santa Monica sun and flew to the frigid temperatures
and dark December days of Philadelphia.
Only
an hour or so from Carrie's suburban townhouse, Philadelphia
not only allowed her to be close to home for potential
emergencies, but gave us both the opportunity to spend
time in a city with which we were largely unfamiliar.
I knew it was chockablock with historical landmarks
and a famous art museum, but I needed to find out if
it measured up to the girlfriend getaway essentials:
indulgent spas, exotic food, and cozy hotels in which
to waste time and oversleep. These are my only requirements.
I'm
sure there are plenty of fabulous secrets to uncover
in Philadelphia and if we had more time and were less
focused on doing nothing we would have set out to discover
them. However, it was cold and snowy and we only had
36 hours. I didn't want to spend it racing through one
tourist destination after another. I wanted to eat,
talk about boys, and go to the spa. In other words,
I was focused on the dinner bell, not the Liberty Bell.
(CONTINUED...)
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