Southern Girl Gone Global

Jardin Majorelle…My Backyard Blooms

September 19, 2015October 25, 2016Cindy McCain

The earth laughs in flowers.–Ralph Waldo Emerson

Flowers are restful to look at. They have neither emotions nor conflicts.–Sigmund Freud

I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses.–Charles A. Miles

Had Yves Saint Laurent and Pierre Bergé not fallen in love with Jardin Majorelle on a visit to Marrkech in 1966, one of the most famous gardens in the world would have suffered the fate Joni Mitchell lamented in “Big Yellow Taxi”: “They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.” Slated to be a hotel complex, the property was saved by the Parisian clothing designer (whose ashes are scattered in the rose garden) and his partner.

Memorial to Yves St. Laurent — Memorial to Yves Saint Laurent

The pair pledged to complete the vision of Jacques Majorelle, a fellow artist who created the space. Mission accomplished, the urban renewal breathes life into city residents and tourists. I recently wrote of my love for gardens. I’m so grateful for this one, located just down the street in my neighborhood in Gueliz, where I find shade, shelter, green space, in the midst of a frenetic city.

The painting studio of Majorelle was convereted into a Berber museum, educating expats on the natives of Morocco, and an irrigation system installed. A legacy of art and beauty, Jardin Marjorelle is the result of one who planted, two who watered, and God who grew a creation all now enjoy.

All gardening is landscape painting.–William Kent

In 1923 French painter, Jacques Majorelle, bought land in Marrakech. He had studied architecture and was an avid amateur botanist. He was also influenced by his father, Louis Majorelle, a famous furniture designer, and the Art Nouveau movement which took inspiration from nature.

A garden must combine the poetic and the mysterious with a feeling of serenity and joy.–Luis Barragan

The composition of his masterpiece includes indigenous plants and those he gathered from his travels across five continents—palms, agaves, cacti, weeping willows, jasmine, agaves, cypress, and my favorite, cascading bougainvilleas. A paradox of serene stimulation, bursting blooms against the buildings’ primary colors—yellow and ultramarine, now known as “Majorelle blue” –energizes while the green of fauna, ripples across ponds, and whispers of fountains calms the soul.

Though Majorelle’s art exhibitions were appreciated world wide, Jardin Majorelle is considered his greatest achievement. Sadly, however, his life did not end with the serenity he gave others. An accident that took his leg and broken relationships led to financial burdens which forced him to sell much of his land and open the garden to the public for entrance fees. He died before seeing the culmination of his vision, never knowing future owners would finish what he started. Still Majorelle said of his passion project: “This garden is a momentous task, to which I give myself entirely. It will take my last years from me and I will fall, exhausted, under its branches, after having given it all my love.”

Since moving to Morocco I’ve wanted bougainvillea to spill over my balcony. Though I see it everywhere climbing buildings several stories high and have asked locals where I can buy blooming plants at least 3-feet tall, they’ve all said it is best to plant small cuttings without flowers. Finally, I felt heard. I showed a Moroccan friend exactly what I want in pots perched on a riad rooftop. I showed him the size and color, repeating I don’t want to wait… I want beautiful, large plants now, not knowing how long I’ll be here to enjoy them. He nodded, agreed, and produced three single vines. Each spindly…bud less… only inches tall. The Charlie Brown Christmas tree version of what I’d envisioned. Disappointed, I thought, I’ll probably be on another continent by the time these bloom.

But then I decided to do it the Moroccan way. No hurry. Plant. Have patience. Wait and see. Teaching should have taught me this. Whether or not I see the fruits of my labor, I’ll tend. I’ll love. I’ll bloom where I’m planted, believing life–in whatever season–is beauty.

October 2014–Moni and I at a tea hosted by my school’s Board of Directors

Travel bloggers and friends on a Sunday stroll

Riad Hikaya…Balm of Beauty in Marrakesh

September 9, 2015April 24, 2023Cindy McCain

Last updated April 24, 2023

Love of beauty is taste. The creation of beauty is art.—Ralph Waldo Emerson

Let the beauty of what you love be what you do. ― Rumi

It is very, very difficult to feel sad for long in Morocco because you can never be alone in Morocco. You are surrounded by beauty…It really is a place, I think, that nourishes the soul.–John Pittaway

A picture from Persian poetry, gorgeous girls in red swung open a heavy, studded door. They beckoned me over a threshold for refuge from the dust, glare, and chaos of the Kasbah. Immediately taking my overnight bag, their attention turned to relieving me of the burden my face and body still carried.

“Welcome. Please sit. Would you like some tea?”

Like Dorothy, swept into a black-and-white Kansas cyclone, then dropped into Technicolor Oz, I had been disoriented by a painful situation but, upon landing in a dream, became distracted from it by beauty. The terra cotta maze of the medina had morphed into a sanctuary of ruby, aqua, green, and gold.

I had read that everything I saw on walls and floors, sat on, sat under had been designed by Jane and John Pittaway, English owners of Riad Hikaya, and handcrafted by Marrakshi artisans. I spoke with John that afternoon who studied Arabic at University and also speaks French, Spanish, and the local Moroccan dialect, Darija. Though he has lived in many parts of the Middle East including Egypt, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates before moving to Marrakech, we discussed what makes this place unique…the creativity which brims here…. the tension of chaos and tranquility…the balm of beauty that banishes bad.

By dinner on the rooftop under a full moon, I was fully settled in the Rahma suite (Arabic word for compassion) — able to breathe; to let go; to accept, see and savor the gifts of kindness and peace around me. Not only had the girls turned back my bed, sprinkling rose petals on the duvet and in the tub…not only had Fadoua fed me fresh Tabouleh, the best Lamb CousCous I’ve had, and Celebration Orange and Chocolate Cake which, trust me, is reason alone to celebrate…but Sana, at my request, stopped serving and sat down for a chat over dessert.

The next morning the moon was gone. The sun met me on the rooftop instead. After breakfast and a read in the jacuzzi, I told the girls bye. I left again grateful for the kindness of strangers-now-friends. I remembered John’s words about a 2-year planned renovation that took five years instead. So true of life in many ways: “Anything is possible…It was an interesting journey..a way of learning.”

Suite at Riad Hikaya Marrakech — (from the website) Rahma, (Arabic for compassion), is situated on the first floor of the riad overlooking the smaller, mirrored courtyard.The traditional bed, fashioned from tadelakt and zelij, is framed by a hand-carved ‘muqarbas’, or bedhead, with an ornate zowwaq finish. Cactus silk curtains line the tadelakt walls and frame the artisanal, wooden shutters. Hand-painted plaster motifs, soft kelim armchairs and vintage Berber carpets complete the luxurious feel.

Cindy McCain Southern Girl Gone Global at Riad Hikaya — A stay at Riad Hikaya is a dream experience.

Cindy McCain at Riad Hikaya Marrakesh — Like everything else at Riad Hikaya, the robes are custom-designed and made locally in Marrakesh.

Riad Hikaya custom bathroom — Hand painted tadelakt bath and a monsoon shower crafted from zelij and maillechort, a metal favoured by Marrakshi artisans which in English is known as nickel silver

Riad Hikaya gold sink with rose petals in bathroom — Rose petals in the sink and tub create an even more luxurious bath.

Rose petals on bed at Riad Hikaya — Rose petals on the bed make guests feel special.

Couscous at Riad Hikaya Marrakech — Couscous at Riad Hikaya is delicious.

Sana at Riad Hikaya — Sana was a superior server.

Riad Hikay Rooftop — Lighting, cacti garden, olive trees — perfect evening on rooftop under a full moon.

Chocolate and orange desert at Riad Hikaya — This delectable dessert… no words.

Rose bath at Riad Hikaya — Roses fill the tub at Riad Hikaya

Bedtime read by Firoozeh Dumas at Riad Hikaya marrakesh — Laughing Without an Accent: Adventures of a Global Citizen by Firoozeh Dumas was a fun bedtime read.

Coffee service on a silver tray at Riad Hikaya — Coffee in bed

Upstairs terrace at Riad Hikaya — Outside my room

Fresh roses daily at Riad Hikaya — Fresh roses are arranged daily at Riad Hikaya

Breakfast at Riad Hikaya — Fresh fruit, pastries, and juice

omelet at Riad Hikaya — A southern girl’s treat in Morocco — a huge breakfast omelet

whirlpool Riad Hikaya — A rooftop read in the whirlpool at Riad Hikaya

A thing of beauty is a joy forever;

Its loveliness increases…it still will keep

A bower quiet for us, and a sleep

Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.–John A “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” —Keats

What a difference a day makes. Thanks to Riad Hikaya for the stay. As always, the opinions here are my own.

Jnane Tamsna Is The Garden Paradise Souls Seek

September 3, 2015April 23, 2023Cindy McCain

Updated on April 23, 2023

“The soul cannot thrive in the absence of a garden. If you don’t want paradise, you are not human; and if you are not human, you don’t have a soul.” –Thomas More

Entrance arches at Jnane Tamsna — Enter the magical arches of Jnane Tamsna, the portal to a garden paradise souls seek.

My love of gardens began in my grandmother’s backyard. She told me the names of heirloom flowers, shrubs, and trees transplanted from her childhood home and my grandparents’ farm, Mockingbird Hill. On weekends in Marrakesh, I play in secret gardens that I read about in fairy tales, Song of Solomon, and Arabian Nights. They hide behind walls from the Medina to the Palmeraie, and I seek. The way to my dream garden is through magical arches. The entrance of Jnane Tamsna is a portal to the garden paradise souls seek.

As with all things magic, our eyes must be open. If we’re not fully present, we may miss it. The first time I went to Jnane Tamsna, my sight was blurred with tears. My heart was elsewhere. My friend, Kate, made lunch reservations for Mother’s Day as a distraction because our kids were so far away. I was also weepy because I’d missed being with my daughter on her 25th birthday.

I could see her on her 5th birthday. She and her friends were wearing wide-brimmed hats at a garden tea party that I’d planned for her since she was born. I, the “Flower Fairy,” hid pearl necklaces in fifty rose bushes and left a note instructing the girls to find them. Under our oak tree dripping with ivy, a table was topped with a bouquet of purple hydrangeas big as soccer balls. Cole, my son, was sitting in the grass under the white table cloth playing with our kitten.

A couple of weeks ago, I entered that paradise again for a longer stay. I was ready to explore the passion project of Meryanne Loum-Martin and Dr. Gary Martin recognized by press from The New York Times to Architectural Digest to Gourmet. I was drawn back to the quiet of this Edenic place of sprawling size and biodiversity for which Gary, an ethnobotanist, received recognition last March. Janane Tamsna and Villa Oasis, Madison Cox’s creation, were the only two gardens chosen for private tours by the Botanical Symposium on the Mediterranean Flora of Jardin Majorelle. I was also eager to meet expats and tell them I appreciate their commitment to the local community.

I was led to my gorgeous room to drop off luggage, then to a poolside garden where Meryanne and Gary had just finished lunch with a guest.

Tunnel vision is a beautiful thing at Jnane Tamsna. Beauty blooms about you everywhere.

Jnane Tamsna suite — Sweet dreams are easy here.

Sutie at Jnane Tamsna — My gorgeous sitting area in my suite

Patio at Jnane Tamsna — Hello Beautiful World!

Private patio at Jnane Tamsna — My private patio at Jnane Tamsna

Jnane Tamsna patios — My own private patio at Jnane Tamsna.

They’d been talking awhile, so as they invited me to sit, we all shifted chairs into the shade. Quickly I knew what Laura Werner meant when she wrote in Forbes, “Staying at Jnane Tamsna in the Palmeraie is like being at an extended dinner/house party.” And by the time I left, I understood why Hugh Jackman, a regular, did the Happy Dance by one of the their five pools. Privacy and peace are premium here.

Table set at Jnane Tamsna — Magic happens around tables set under palms and beside pools at Jnane Tamsna.

HIdden pools and gardens at Jnane Tamsna — At Jnane Tamsna you can enjoy not only secret gardens but multiple secret pools

Jnane Tamnsa pool and two chairs — Pool set for two

Advocates for culture and education, they’d hosted salons where authors, such as Esther Freud (I’d read her memoir of Marrakech a year ago upon moving to Morocco) and historian William Dalrymple, had read from their works. I learned their daughter had graduated from the school where I teach, and they’d just returned from Paris early to see Suddenly Last Summer performed for a fundraiser in Tangier — the city that inspired Tennessee Williams (my favorite southern dramatist) to write it. The murder in the play segued to another book set in Savannah and gardens there I love, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. This literature lover and mother had found kindred spirits. When I told Meryanne I’d been there briefly on Mother’s Day, she completely understood. She, too, misses her children.

They headed to projects and I to the pool, where lounges like gentlemen in crisp, white dress coats joined me in saluting summer and bidding my last day of vacation goodbye.

Main pool at Jnane Tamsna — Pool beside the dining area

Like smooth music, the afternoon soothed my soul. That night, the moon escorted me to dinner.

victrola at Jnane Tamsna — Victrola at Jnane Tamsna

Jnane Tamsna lounge on patio — Curl up with a book in the shade.

bougainvillea at Jnane Tamsna — Snowy bougainvillea frames patios.

pottery at Jnane Tamsna — My cup — or in this case, urn — overflows with gratitude for garden spaces.

table setting at Jnane Tamsna — Meryanne Loum-Martin designs her table settings with the bounty from their gardens.

Gazpacho made with tomatoes and basil from the gardens of Jnane Tamsna. — **Gazpacho** made with tomatoes and basil from the gardens.

“A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in–what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars.” ― Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

The next morning I woke to wander the property and gardens.

“The Venus flytrap, a devouring organism, aptly named for the goddess of love.” — Tennessee Williams, Suddenly Last Summer

Though Gary doesn’t have a Venus flytrap…yet…he has over 230 varieties on a lush list hailing from the Chilean Andes to Madagascar, from Australia to Hong Kong that continues to spread on 8.5 acres. He has accomplished his “childhood dream of a botanical garden with signs giving the common English name, Latin name, botanical family and geographical origin of species.” A walk through it taught me a lot as did his address (excerpt below) to the Botanical Symposium:

Facing nearly nine acres of water-stressed palm grove, I first set out to create our own organic orchard garden (arsa) where the scent of orange blossoms and mint could waft around colorful aubergines, kale, tomatoes and many other vegetables. Then I put in a border of transplanted olive trees – part of the ‘rescue horticulture’ I practice, saving fruit trees from areas of urban sprawl elsewhere in Marrakech. This created a pathway to our bustan (Arabic for garden from a Persian word that means ‘a place of smell’), which is resplendent with angel trumpets, Japanese mock orange, white iceberg roses and climbing jasmine.
Every bustan needs its water feature, and ours is a zen swimming pool where guests can take a dip before enjoying lunch in the garden, shaded by prolific date palms and mulberry trees. Our two interior courtyard gardens (ryads) feature frangipani, gardenias and star jasmine as well as some rapidly growing olive trees with native viburnums and Mediterranean ruscus in their understory.

purple seating outdoors in Jnane Tamsna gardens

Jnane Tamsna garden walkways are lined with olive trees

Rancho Tambor Agave from Oaxaca, Mexico at Jnane Tamsna

Perfect Pomegranate at Jnane Tamsna — pomegranate

On that morning walk I heard in my memory my grandmother humming her favorite hymn: “I come to the garden alone. While the dew is still on the roses…” I thought of a favorite quote by Emma Goldman, “I’d rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck,” and saw my daughter at five, plucking pearls from roses. And I realized that when I am present and thankful for now–even when missing my children on Mother’s Day–I can receive beauty and thus feel them there with me. And when I stop fretting about future plans and dwell in the now– of birds having breakfast with me or the moon looking down upon me and those I love a continent away, peace is no mirage. It’s an oasis in the desert.

Thank you to Jnane Tamsna for my stay. As always, opinions are my own.

Spain’s Hotel Santa Marta Is the Ideal Mediterranean Solo Retreat

August 20, 2015March 1, 2025Cindy McCain

IMG_6654 (1).jpg — View from Balcony of Hotel Santa Marta, Lloret de Mar

My go-to escape has always been the ocean. While living in Morocco I’d fly to Spain’s sunny shores via Ryan Air for less than a Target run in the States. One of my happiest solo travel stays EVER was at Hotel Santa Marta — a beauty break amidst botanical gardens winding down, down, down to the shore. Sheer. Bliss.

The near 15-acre (6-hectare) estate is located on its own private bay, Santa Cristina, and was chosen for the opening night party of this year’s European Travel Bloggers Exchange. I first saw the property that night as our ship skidded onto the sand. The beach was lit by sunset. I ‘d already booked a night there for after the conference to catch my breath before a 3-day blogging tour of Costa Brava. Since that perfect stay I’ve dreamed of going back for a week.

When anxious, uneasy and bad thoughts come, I go to the sea, and the sea drowns them out with its great wide sounds, cleanses me with its noise, and imposes a rhythm upon everything in me that is bewildered and confused. — Rainer Maria Rilke

The Spanish Mediterranean coast is as beautiful as beaches in Southern Italy and France. I was there in spring when, like late fall/winter low season, a single sea view room can be as low as 115 Euro per night. I love boutique hotels for their privacy, but plan ahead because this paradise stays booked, particularly by Europeans who vacation along Costa Brava in high season.

The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.— Kate Chopin

The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach – waiting for a gift from the sea. –Anne Morrow Lindbergh

I loved swimming in the pool and sea, writing on the balcony, and sleeping to the sound of waves in the ultimate room with a view. It’s the perfect solo, group, or romantic retreat in Lloret de Mar.

I read and walked for miles at night along the beach, writing bad blank verse and searching endlessly for someone wonderful who would step out of the darkness and change my life. It never crossed my mind that that person could be me.–-Anna Quindlen

For more on the beauty of Girona and the Costa Brava Coast, see my 5-Part Series (links below) and go here for more information.

Discovering Costa Brava: Spain’s Medieval Coast, Part I

Discovering Costa Brava’s Medes Islands, Part II

Discovering Costa Brava’s Bounty, Part III

Cycling Through Costa Brava’s Medieval Villages, Part IV

Discovering Costa Brava, Part V

My Marrakech: One Year Here

August 19, 2015October 17, 2016Cindy McCain

All we know about the future is that it will be different… So we must celebrate the changes. Because, as someone once said, everything will be all right in the end. And if it’s not all right, then trust me, it’s not yet the end.

— Dame Judi Dench as Evelyn, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

I’d said goodbyes. Hard ones. The kind that make you wonder why you started this journey in the first place.

—Dame Cindy McCain, A Move to Morocco

One year ago I stepped into a Marrakech life. When I left in August of 2014 I was on overdrive; I couldn’t–wouldn’t–slow down to absorb painful goodbyes. Grief, of course, later hit full force, but I was blessed to be with my kids Christmas and again this summer, reminding me of a bond that isn’t daunted by 4,000 miles. We spent a perfect last day together before I flew back and they prepared to return to school. My son suggested Cummins Falls which Travel and Leisure named as one of America’s Best Swimming Holes. Its near his school, so after we ate at El Tapatio and stayed at his apartment.

20150803_153543 — Photography by Cole McCain

20150803_160929 — The trek there is by river and very slippery. Getting there was a challenge since the sign said “Downriver Trail” and wound up and away from the hole before taking us down. Park rangers ran everyone out an hour before the park closed to give us time for the climb out.

We climbed to the falls–they went all the way up while I tried not to fall–then we jumped (ok, I slid) in and swam back. I’d forgotten how beautiful Tennessee Parks are. It was a day I’ll never forget.

I feel blessed to live in a town that tourists will return to in their minds when work and life gets stressful as their “Happy Place.” When I’m stressed by the “real world,” I go to Happy Places in Marrakech, too. Literally. And I look forward to finding more.

I’m so thankful for a year of adventure, beauty, and relationships in this new, exotic land. I came to write, teach, and learn. To find joy in the journey without and within. To grow stronger and lean heavier on God.

I knew when I cried every time I watched The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, I was meant to try life abroad. Likewise when I finally saw The Second Exotic Marigold Hotel this summer I wailed at the words: “You have no idea what you’ll become. Let go because that’s when the fun starts. There’s no present like the time.” The first four months I’ll never forget.

I will never let my children go. Or my mom or sister or anyone I love. I carry them in my heart, stay connected on Skype, will see them every chance I get and plan to live near them again. But with God’s help I am letting go of other things that hinder an abundant life…fear, worry, regret. The illusion and tyranny of control. Of having an exact idea of what my life should look like. Of having an opinion on what others’ lives should look like. Despite all the travel, I’m learning to be still and to be grateful for the past, the present, and the future–whatever it will be. Over the last year I’ve feathered my nest in Marrakech and look forward to all that Year Two holds.

My “Blanket Guy”–Mustapha Boukad of Chez Mustapha, 25, Rue dar el bacha, sidi abdelaziz, Marrakech Medina GSM: 062 29 82 41

Arabian Nights given to my dad by my grandmother, Mama Lou, who took me on my first journeys abroad via her rocking chair.

Sahara green pottery, handmade chair, vintage Berber wedding quilt

Sometimes my Happy Place is a Marrakech riad, an Italian vineyard, or a Spanish beach. But after this summer I’m more likely to go here for escape… watching Jurassic World or Better Call Saul with Cole… watching Game of Thrones with Taylor… skating on river rocks with them both…laughing at dinner with my mom and a movie we sneaked off to see, then eating caramel and chocolate pies in her living room from The Woodshed…taking walks and rides with Ella… talking with my sister over coffee in her backyard…spending July 4th weekend with our families at the lake.

Mom and me at Logan's — Mom and me at Logan’s

In The Alchemist Paulo Coelho says there are obstacles to fulfilling our personal calling, which he calls “the path that God chose for you here on Earth.” He says whenever we are filled with enthusiasm, we are on track, but many choose to never take that first step toward fulfilling their destiny. He says two obstacles are 1) “We are told from childhood onward that everything we want to do is impossible.” I can honestly say my mom has never told me any goal is unreachable. She has supported me throughout my life in every way possible. 2) “We know what we want to do, but are afraid of hurting those around us.” This has been my greatest fear. But I agree with the author: “We do not realize that love is a further impetus, not something that will prevent us going forward. We do not realize that those who genuinely wish us well want us to be happy and are prepared to accompany us on that journey.” My children, family and friends have supported me for which I am so grateful. Without the support of Taylor and Cole or my mom caring for Ella and encouraging me, I wouldn’t be here. It meant SO MUCH to me last year when they and my friend, Moni, came to visit. Having friends here helps, too. This week was the birthday of my friend, Kate. Her cake was amazing!

The author also says many never make a move (try on a dream) because they fear defeat. Fear of defeat hasn’t been an obstacle for me because if my family is ok, I’m ok. Also I remember God brought me here and enables me to do whatever I’m meant to do. I’m glad when we do fail or others fail us, God makes beauty of ashes.

Just before my first international school interview in Boston in 2014 (which was in the Caribbean, not the desert) I read this in Hosea: “I will allure her to the desert and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards and make the valley of trouble a door of hope. She’ll sing there as in her youth and as a young girl fresh from Egypt (captivity)…I’ll neither leave you or let you go. You’ll know me, God, for who I really am.” Happy Anniversary.

My Nashville

August 18, 2015February 9, 2018Cindy McCain

Roots and wings. Nashville has and is (for me) both. This progressive place with a legendary past is the 7^th fastest growing city in the US. Friends told me of new restaurants and music venues, of more traffic in the year I was away, but I was still surprised by all the change.

Growing up in Kentucky, I romanticized Nashville and its icons. As a six-year-old in the ‘60s my “imaginary friend” was an imaginary husband—Elvis—and I still remember watching the Johnny Cash Show with my dad on Friday nights long before I’d go to concerts at The Ryman where it was taped. Walk the Line is one of my favorite movies—a love story of a Bad Boy reformed by a woman, her family, and faith. When asked for his definition of Paradise, Johnny said of June Carter Cash, “This morning, with her, having coffee.”

If you are fans of Elvis and Johnny, too, local artist Cindy David’s guitar pick earrings are my pick for cool souvenirs/ gifts. She sells them at festivals and gift shops (Nashville Airport, Frist Center, Omni Hotel, Nashville Symphony, and Cheekwood), or you can contact her at CindyDavid.com. I brought back a pair for Johnny.

When writing in Nashville for Examiner and Hispanic Nashville.com , I highlighted local events that defy Music City being put in a box—

performances at the Nashville Symphony, TPAC, Nashville Ballet, Vanderbilt Presents, and Nashville Film Fest. I also appreciate all that once defined Nashville–putting the town on the map–like live music on stages at the Ryman, the Bluebird, Grand Ole Opry, Bridgestone, BB King’s…in bars on Broadway, Demonbreun, and Nolensville Road…and at outdoor events from Ascend Amphitheater to Chukkers for Charity. Today Nashvegas, Buckle of the Bible Belt, a community as diverse as sweet tea and Jack Daniel whiskey, brims with tradition and progression; local, global, and local-gone-global happenings receiving Presidential recognition. Nashville is a place offering something for everyone explaining its popularity as a tourist destination and place to live.

Hatch print — Legend-upon-legend, Hatch Print, Nashville

Moviemaker Alberto Fuguet was also drawn to Music City. While Artist-in-Residence at Vanderbilt University, he wrote and filmed Musica Campesina. The film explores the immigrant experience of Tazo, a Chilean who comes to Nashville seeking a career in country music. In a scene with the lead (played by Pablo Cerda) I’m a desperate housewife who offers him iced tea but serves Jack Daniel. Fuguet described Tazo as a “fish out of water” which I better understand now living in a different culture. Many days I feel like a mermaid in Marrakesh.

My month at home went too fast to see all the new places I wanted to explore and visit all my old haunts. Below Taylor, Cole, and I played tourist downtown on 2nd Avenue and Broadway. Acme Feed and Seed has live music, reasonably priced food and a rooftop for taking photos.

Johnny Cash and Billy Graham, most famous preacher of my time. I still remember my Mama Lou watching his Crusades.

Also on Broad is the Frist Center. We celebrated a Big Birthday of my friend, Cheryl, there where The Long Players had people dancing in the grass under the light of a big, blue moon.

11840364_10207884343813323_428915226_o — Emily, far right, is our pro photographer and grabbed great shots and footage of that night. Today is HER birthday. Happy Birthday, Em!

11831448_10207885048950951_1344375663_o — Loved the Birthday Dinner at Cheryl’s pick, Adele’s–fun new restaurant in the Gulch.

Below is the video Emily made celebrating Cheryl’s 60th Birthday and what a “Young American” looks and acts like. Also check out travel videos from Emily’s adventures on her Vimeo station, My Open Road.

Nashville is a dancing place. On my 40th birthday I was doing country line dance with my sister and friends at the Wildhorse Saloon. Since my 50th I salsa. It was so good to get back to Suzy Wong’s House of Yum to fuel up for lemon drops and Asian Wonton Nachos, then do “Free Dance Wednesday” where Tonya Miller still faithfully hosts Salsa Night weekly at Play.

Though there are so many places to go, things to do, food to eat, I have to wrap up because I’m getting homesick. For a fix of Italy I love Bella Napoli near Belmont or Coco’s Italian Market in West Nashville. Urban Grub on 12th South has oysters and great grits. And in my neck-of-the-woods, there’s the Hip Donelson Farmers Market for home-cooking-for real like the spread my sister and brother-in-law made for my farewell dinner.

I went to McNamara’s, named “One of the Best Irish Pubs in America,” with my friend, Theresa, then Cole while home for the corned beef and cabbage and band, Nosey Flynn. For lighter fare there’s Phat Bites‘ Chinese Chicken Salad, Broccoli Salad, and Greek Salad and Cinco de Mayo in Hermitage and Old Hickory for a reward after a long walk on the Greenway or just because.

Finally, events I miss most in Nashville are Fall Festivals. Hope you can make one or all!

Italian Lights

Wine on the River

Oktoberfest

Southern Festival of Books

Celebrate Nashville

Cheekwood Fall Festival

A music mix that’s Nashville…

East Nashville’s Bounty and Backyards

August 15, 2015August 20, 2015Cindy McCain

And in another backyard in one of my favorite neighborhoods, East Nashville, I enjoyed summer with a supper my friend Beth cooked from her garden. The Mississippi girl filled her table on that hot July night with cool salads, grilled corn and shrimp that tasted like a Southern Living spread. A really good soul, her accent and easy way soothes mine. Many-a-memory was made at her house—like an incredible birthday party she gave me–and times we met there before salsa events.

Beth should write recipes for Southern Living magazine. Seriously.

And just a few blocks away are two other sweet spots. A couple of years earlier, I helped Kim pack up her home on Manchester as she moved to make a new one with Andy in Franklin. We’d celebrated birthdays there, too, starting at her house and carrying them–cake-in-hand–to share at MadDonna’s just around the corner where once-upon-a-time all my friends (many I met there) danced salsa to Funtopia’s tunes bi-weekly. Likewise, at April and Jason’s, we’d celebrated holidays together and the marriage of friends, Mayuresh and Madhavi.

170072_1805085203932_5501453_o — At Kim’s on her birthday

At Kim's on my birthday — At Kim’s on my birthday

Madhavi and Mayuresh's Wedding Party — Mayuresh and Madhavi’s Wedding Party

Like Malasaña in Madrid and Camden in London, East Nashville, named one of the 12 Coolest Neighborhoods in America, is a center of all-things-hip. Dog rescuers, foodies, artists, cyclists, craft beer enthusiasts, coffee shop dwellers and vintage shoppers call 37206 home.

Ive been a fan of many restaurants in this neighborhood for years–Sky Blue Cafe and Marché Artisan Foods for brunch, Holland House for fancy drinks by a fire, Eastland Cafe for Happy Hour, Batter’d and Fried for seafood, and Jeni’s Ice Cream for a quick dessert. But the places I return to most have great food and fresh air– big backyards, patios, or decks.

At Rumours East I sat and sipped many-a- summer with friends under twinkling white lights and the throbbing golden glow of fireflies.

Last night we all made it to MadDonna's and Rumours — Last night we all made it to MadDonna’s and Rumours East

Next door, my shirts are still selling at Chuck Beard’s bookstore, East Side Story. I love hearing about his latest projects and live events as he continues to create and promote locally made art, books, and music.

Should you want to stay in this community which is well connected by bus and just across the Cumberland River from Nashville’s iconic 2nd Avenue, Chuck and his wife, Emily, may have a room for you. They love meeting people from around the world and rent their master suite on AirBnB. Amazing hosts, they’ll provide a heap of Southern hospitality and point you to the best new finds in the area.

A special treat this summer was dinner out with my sister, Penny, and our cousins, Sonjia and Sheila–granddaughters of Uncle Sonny whose farm I’d tried to visit in Kentucky. It had been years since we’d seen each other and catching up under the big trees in The Pharmacy‘s beer garden was so good. If you want American fare– specialty hot dogs, old-fashion soda fountain drinks, and burgers voted #1 in Nashville the last two years–this is a good pick.

Ok, so I had the beer this trip, but I did the Creamsicle with my kids on a previous visit. Highly recommended.

At Rosepepper Cantina a group of friends and family bid me bye before I moved to Morocco. I didn’t realize I was saying farewell to Mexican food for a year. Good food and then there’s their maragaritas. Josiah makes the best in town. Here’s how he does it.

In Morocco I do get locally grown tomatoes year-round, but I hate that I missed this year’s Tomato Fest. It was voted “Best Festival” by The Nashville Scene readers the last six years. To learn more about other East Nashville happenings like the Grassy Knoll Movies and Farmer’s Market, go here. And if you want to know a secret to remember come July 4, 2016… don’t fight the crowd at Riverfront to see Nashville’s famous fireworks display. My son and I once spent hours trapped in traffic in a parking structure when the smoke cleared. In East Park across the river you’ll have the best view in town without hassle. Rather than sweating shoulder-to-shoulder, you can spread a blanket or kick back in a lawn chair and enjoy freedom.

Gone South…to Franklin

August 11, 2015October 25, 2016Cindy McCain

We drove the Tennessee backroad to The Loveless Café from Franklin where Taylor, Cole and I stayed twelve days in the home of friends, Kim and Andy. Switching places, they went abroad while I stayed home with their cat and three dogs. As much as I love back roads, I adore back yards with big porches to grill and chill. Theirs backs up to woods.

I loved walking the dogs early in the morning, sprinklers hissing as we passed. Off trail, cicadas’ cries crescendoed when we waded through tall, dewy weeds to the Harpeth River rocks. After breakfast, I’d pick tomatoes, mint, and basil to make salsa, guacamole, and BLTs for lunch. Cole would play a game of fetch with Wrangler, Ella, and Ollie.

At night we caught up on movies. I’d vowed when I got home I’d disappear into a theater for at least a week. Other than Die Hard shown in the square during the Marrakesh Film Fest I hadn’t seen a single new movie on the Big Screen for an entire year AND when the sound on my airplane screen was broken on the way home, I nearly wept. But Andy and Kim’s Dish like my sister and brother-in-law’s cable had so many choices the only movie I wanted to see in a theater was Jurassic World.

We also ate our way through America’s “Favorite Main Street,” “Friendliest Town” (Travel and Leisure), and “Best Southern Town” (Garden and Gun). Check out all Franklin offers here. We went to Puckett’s Boat House for live music, catfish and oysters like the ones I’d had there in 2013. (55South on Main also has great fresh oysters; I had them there on Kim and Andy’s wedding day.)

Before Kim went to Europe she took me to Gray’s where we caught up over cocktails and dinner. Dating back to 1876, the former pharmacy now social and music hub has a rich history.

Family friends/retired teachers/travel buddies from Nashville, Betty and Sharon, drove down to visit. Starting in 1992 they taught me how to lead school groups on educational trips abroad. We still laugh about the tiny room we shared in England at Hotel Lily. We had to climb over triple beds to enter or exit. They took me to Henpeck Village Market—a meat and three with a great patio and pecan pie to die for.

Turnip Greens, Mashed Potato, Biscuit, Pinto Beans, Fried Okra

On the weekend, Heather, my Destin and Charleston travel partner and former coworker/student and I checked out the English pub, Bunganut Pig where a rocking band played to a full house.

Garcia’s Mexican Restaurant was my son’s find. Great choice! (Mexican food is the cuisine I miss most in Marrakesh. Moroccan friends, if it’s out there, please let me know where.)

I’m thankful for all the good food in Williamson County, but best of all, I loved cooking for my family and sleeping under the same roof again.

IMG_8121 (1) — Guacamole, salsa, spinach and artichoke dip

I've always loved the Parisian photograph by Cyndi Williams (right) and the Arabian artwork. With Kim in Paris and me in Morocco, art imitates life at the moment. — I’ve always loved the Parisian photograph by Cyndi Williams (right) and the Arabian artwork (center). With Kim in Paris during our stay and me living in Morocco, art imitates life.

We didn’t know we’d lose Precious, our 18-year old Persian, just a week before pet sitting for Kim and Andy. Being with their cat, Jet, and the other babies was good for us all.

And as we did after first moving to Nashville, before we had children, my sister drove down on her day off to Franklin, and we popped into shops along Main. Our only regret was not getting into Merridee’s Breadbasket Bakery. Next time.

We loved Philanthropy for its clothes, decor, and cause.

My sister, Penny, and I loved Philanthropy. — Love my sis

The Iron Gate has been a favorite home haven for years.

Vintage Jolie

On the cover, Mint Juleps, official drink of The Kentucky Derby

Yarrow Acres

Avec Moi

Ina’s not southern, but she’s my favorite chef on my favorite channel, Food Network.

Reminds me of the broaches my Mama Lou and Mama Sargeant wore. (“Mama” is Southern-Speak for “Grandmother.”)

Finnleys

Come on Down…

There’s so much more to see and do. The first Friday of each month, catch the Franklin Art Scene, a free, monthly art crawl. Other Franklin Festivals for 2015-16 are found here and Franklin Theater’s attractions are here. If in Franklin or passing through December 12-13, Franklin’s Dickens of a Christmas is a must-do for winter as is Arrington Vineyards for warmer weather.

Want to stay awhile?

Do you prefer staying in a home over a hotel? Don’t have friends in Franklin with whom you can stay? Do you love taking care of pets and a home? On rover.com and care.com those with strong profiles can find assignments as caretakers. Or if wanting to start your search for a “down home” rental south of Nashville, check AirBnB here.

Tennessee Backroads…Natchez Trace and Loveless Cafe

August 9, 2015January 16, 2018Cindy McCain

My life is a Tale of Two Cities…both tourist towns. At Nashville’s center, 2nd Avenue, I rubbed shoulders this summer with girl gangs in shorts and boots out for barbecue and beer. In Marrakesh’s marketplace, Jemaa el Fna, I rub shoulders with girl groups in harem pants and sandals out for a bargain and mint tea. But sometimes the best stuff is found on country (or desert) backroads.

Though Sundays when I was growing up and picnics with my kids meant fried chicken, the last few years I’ve rarely eaten anything fried. But when on my layover in Madrid on the way to Tennessee I almost opted for KFC (Kentucky Fried Chicken) over a tapas bar, I knew it was time to go home. I missed biscuits and gravy. And like I said in my first Southern Girl Gone Home post, I dreamed one night of bacon. I’ve never eaten country ham other than at Christmas, but I couldn’t wait to taste it again. While home I porked out—literally–particularly at a place considered a national treasure. I’m ashamed to say I have been in Nashville since 1987 and never made the trip to the Loveless Café. Since only home for a month, I decided to check out the place People Magazine says the country ham is “the best in America” and USA Today calls “the real McCoy of Southern cooking,” Bon Appetit gushed, “On a scale of 1 to 10, my breakfast came in at about a 14,” and Martha Stewart crooned, “It was the best breakfast I’ve ever had.” And, of course, there’s the wall of fame– country music legends making claiming the food is iconic.

The Loveless began as a private home hangout in the 40s where folks gathered in the living room and danced on the hardwood floor. By 1951 Lon and Annie Loveless were serving chicken and biscuits to travelers on Highway 100 from their front door; they then added 14 motel rooms. The rest of their history is here and check out their world-famous “Biscuit Lady,” Carol Fay Ellison making biscuits on the Today Show.

When Taylor, Cole and I were told the wait was an hour and forty minutes, we almost bolted, but I’m so glad we didn’t. We waited only and hour and I was a little disappointed because I was having a great conversation in the Shimai gift shop with owner Becca Ganick. She loves meeting people from all over the world who stop by. The restaurant is open 7 AM-9 PM Monday-Friday. We were there on a Friday at prime lunch time; to beat the crowds it’s recommended to visit Monday-Thursday 7-9am, after 2pm or before 6pm. Or stop in on a road trip on the Natchez Trace as I hope to do next time. To plan it, festivals, sites, and Bed and Breakfasts along the way are listed here. It’s amazing what you can learn on backroads.

We did breakfast at lunch time (so Taylor and I tried the Blue Moon Cocktail–there actually WAS a blue moon when I was home) but you can get lunch or supper as well. See menu here.

While Taylor and I had breakfast, Cole chose a dinner classic--meatloaf. — While Taylor and I had breakfast, Cole chose a dinner classic–meatloaf.

Be sure to try the GRITS–even if you aren’t a “Girl Raised in the South.” And after the biscuits, you may want to pick up a package of their biscuit mix. I hauled mine back to Morocco…if only I could have brought the ham, too. And if you want to try one of their recipes, I recommend the Fruit Tea Punch–especially those of you who drink only hot tea because In the south, “sweet tea” on ice is a staple, Banana Pudding with Homemade Wafers (especially if you don’t have “store-bought” wafers), Loveless Pecan Pie, or their signature Elvis Pie. And please, all you southern cooks, leave your favorite variations and other favorite recipes in the comments for Yankees ( people from “up north” or anywhere not southern US) to try.

Shelling beans by the bird dog over sweet tea…my mom tells the story of my dad buying a bird dog, Queenie, with an entire week’s pay when she was expecting me. Later he bought another one, Ben Hur.

Kentucky Backroads… Presidents, Poets, and Camels, Oh My!

August 8, 2015August 12, 2015Cindy McCain

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors…Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”-–A Hat Full of Sky, Sir Terry Pratchett

Since my first day home this summer, my senses went on high alert as they do when I’m traveling/living abroad. With intense appreciation I smelled, heard, saw, and tasted southern culture foreign to Morocco. I love my wings that landed me in Africa but also my roots where my life journey began as a girl in Kentucky and continued as a mom in Tennessee. I’ve learned happiness is a blend of the familiar and the exotic–each strangely blurring depending on where I’m doing life at the moment. In Kentucky where my mother still lives, I drove along country roads to feast on green cornfields, blue sky, and red tin-roofed barns–sights as satisfying after being away as the green cacti, blue tile and red regal riads I see and savor in Marrakesh. This is the land of my father’s people.

Barn 9 — My Great Uncle Sonny’s farm and grandmother’s childhood home

Barn 10 — Though a gate kept me from seeing my Aunt Jane’s house at the end of the lane, I remember the cow trough in front of the red-roofed barn my cousins and I swam in one summer and the dinner bells we loved to ring. Once when our Volkswagen Bug slid off the road in snow, my grandmother lifted the back end and set us on our way again.

I grew up hearing “back door friends are best.” So are backroads and the Southern stories and tall tales that go with them. I traveled from Mom’s in Hopkinsville, Kentucky to Nashville, Tennessee four times in five weeks. On one of those trips, just as I cruised the farms on my dad’s side in Christian County, I took the “back way” to Nashville through Todd County to see again where my mom’s parents were born. I drove through Fairview, birthplace of my grandfather and a famous Kentuckian. Across the street from where Granddaddy was born and my Uncle Henry had a store and home is what I grew up calling the “Jeff” Davis Monument. When I was a kid family reunions were spent in park shelters on the grounds. It was the tallest building I’d ever seen and steeped in family history. My Dad’s cousin, Lela Catherine, dressed like a belle of the ball in Gone with the Wind in the Miss Confederacy pageant held there. The 350-foot obelisk replicating the Washington Monument was completed in 1924, and my Uncle Jay ran the elevator to the top after my Uncle Karl’s brother put the cap on it.

Debates over racial relations in the US due to incidents that have happened over the last year have fueled chronic concerns around the Confederate flag and sites like the birthplace of Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate States of America. Some see modern symbols of sedition or oppression; others see history.

Born in Kentucky, Davis grew up on cotton plantations in Louisiana and Mississippi. Some consider the plantation owner a racist traitor, others a rebel -with- a- cause for defending the right of states to secede from the union (something he argued as foundational to democracy but others considered a coup). Service in the Mexican- American War led to his becoming senator where he proposed the Gadsden Purchase. Made Secretary of War under President Franklin Pierce, he argued in Boston for states’ rights to secede from the Union in principle but against it in practice : “My friends, my brethren, my countrymen…I feel an ardent desire for the success of States’ Rights Democracy…alone I rely for the preservation of the Constitution, to perpetuate the Union and to fulfill the purpose which it was ordained to establish and secure.” When the decision was made to form the Confederacy, he was elected its leader.

I realized the irony I didn’t understand as a little girl who on a road trip to see The Stephen Foster Story visited the birthplace of another famous Kentuckian just 100 miles away. His name was Abraham Lincoln. And I discovered a connection between Jefferson Davis and Africa where I now live. Davis proposed and pushed through the US Camel Corps, importing camels from Tunisia and Egypt to carry military supplies across the US Southwest.

Down the road in Guthrie, Kentucky, I showed my son again the birthplace of Robert Penn Warren, the first US Poet Laureate and Pulitzer Prize Winner for his novel, All the King’s Men. While at Vanderbilt University he was one of the Fugitives, literary writers and scholars who founded New Criticism, the main mode of textual analysis in English in the early 20th century, and the Southern Agrarians who wrote a collection of essays published in 1930 called I’ll Take My Stand: The South and the Agrarian Tradition. He later denounced the work’s stereotypes and oversimplifications that romanticized the “old South” as well as his own prejudices. He argued for racial integration in his essay, “Divided South Searches Its Soul,” and his books, Segregation: The Inner Conflict in the South and “Who Speaks for the Negro?, a collections of interviews with civil rights leaders including Malcolm X and Martin Luther, King. While studying in Rome he and Ralph Ellison became close friends and were interviewed in Paris on America’s civil rights movement. The core messages of I’ll Take My Stand–valuing nature, growing our own food, supporting local, living a simpler lifestyle–are embraced by many today, such as the Mennonites who now farm much of the lands of this native son. Robert Penn Warren also cowrote my college literature text, An Approach to Literature and has been a part of my life as have other Southern authors.

Closer to home, in Guthrie is the train station near the old Tasty Freeze below where my mom went to meet my grandfather when he came home from being stationed in Virginia for two years during WWII. He left when she was four, came home on leave twice, and returned for good when she was six and her baby brother (my Uncle Preston) who he hadn’t met yet was six months old. I have a new appreciation for servicemen who are separated from their families after being away from mine the last year. How hard it must have been for my grandparents and my mom who remembers missing her father terribly.

Back in Nashville, my children and I set out on another backroad–Tennessee’s Highway 100. We’d travel near the Natchez Trace, a historic trail I hope to drive next time home that ends in Tupelo, Mississippi. But this time we were on a food odyssey just southwest of Nashville…. (to be continued)

Pier House Key West

Perfect Solo Retreat

Fort Myers, Florida

Fort Myers offers a beautiful beach and a hip downtown scene.

Henderson Beach Resort Destin, Florida

Just One Problem with Henderson Beach Resort: It\'s Hard to Leave

5 Wonderful Days in L.A.

Venice, Hollywood, Santa Monica, Malibu Here

Captiva and Sanibel Islands

Perfect Family Destinations

Postcard Perfect Palm Springs and The Saguaro

Adult Family Vacation

Morocco Writing Retreat & Earthquake Relief

Ways to Help

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: