The first two major tour cities, San Francisco and L.A., were about a month long. I skipped through San Diego on my way to Alabama to see family, so Denver was the first stop in which I'd unload for one week, find my bearings, and leave.
We stayed in a charming apartment in LoDo (that stands for Lower Downtown. I'm convinced Denver has more neighborhood acronyms than anywhere else). This is a bit of a no-man's land in the way of cool stuff, but there is a Kind Soopers nearby, a Starbucks in case of emergency, and two yoga studios within walking distance. It would do the job.
One downer about tour is that it's not vacation. Hard to believe, I know. I still work during the day. This limits my chances of breaking the world record for most-pizzas-eaten across America in one year. However, I managed to squeeze in some solid Denver time, and thanks to one of my best gal pals, got a tour of the city.
Each day I took a yoga class at either Yoga Pod LoDo or Kindness Collective Platte Street. Both studios were full of light (actual sunshine, but also spiritual light, now that we're going there) and both would have made a lovely home for a yogi. I loved my Kindness classes so much that I hated to leave town. I saw Red Rocks. We went to the Denver Museum of Nature & Science and, while there, caught a flick about Black Holes, narrated by Liam Neeson.
If I had a home, I'd have spent oodles of money in the Queen City General Store. Selling everything from blankets to gemstones, lingerie to a nice edit of vintage finds, the shop looks as if Desert Hippie Me got together with Old Lady Sequin-Sporting Me and decided to capitalize on our eclectic tastes.
Culinary highlights included: Onefold. With heaping portions of duck fried rice and breakfast tacos in front of us, I was grateful our waitress did not mislead us on our order. A humongo slice at the Pizza Pedal'r curbed my afternoon craving. I was totally wow'ed by the sliders and nachos at Park & Co (and the service and the beer. People in Denver are so nice, and they are all about that beer.) While we didn't eat at Beatrice & Woodsley, I enjoyed a mighty fine Old Fashioned there, followed by a cozy dinner at Gozo.
Something to know about Denver: They love pretzels. Is this some kind of midwestern ballpark affinity? From what I could tell, though, when a menu reads "pretzel" it means "buttery ciabatta bread rolled into the shape of a pretzel with a cheesy dipping sauce." Both City, O' City and Acorn pulled this faux pretzel move, and it was the best "pretzel" I've ever had. At Acorn we also split fried pickles, hamachi crudo, meatballs, and agnolotti. Varied, but memorable.