Many years ago, Donna went to Louisville, Kentucky, on a business trip. The company she worked for sponsored a workshop and put them all up in the Brown and she raved about it ever since. We finally got to go together last weekend, in company with friends, and my first reaction is—we need another week.
The Brown Hotel is one of those landmarks that has been kept up to snuff and is redolent with the charm of a past that clings here and there and is easy to miss unless you’re looking. We stayed three nights. We will do this again.
The excuse (as if one is needed) was a distillery tour, the Woodford Distillery, which is in Versailles, near Frankfort. I had not realized that bourbon can only be called bourbon if it comes from Kentucky. 
Like champagne, it is a regional hallmark. We have long since discovered Woodford and have yet to taste anything better. Comparable, sure.
The place has been there since 1812 and the original buildings are still there and in use. Beth, our guide, gave a great lecture while taking us through the facilities. Old stone, the odor of baking bread, a heady wheat and corn aroma, and in some ways the quiet of a church.
It has only been Woodford since 1996, but the continuity has apparently never been broken. (Not sure what they did during Prohibition, but whatever, lots of old distilleries survived somehow.) At the end of the tour we of course spent far too much on the product, bringing home some specialty bottles which we intend to savor carefully.
The grounds as well are beautiful. I could spend a week there photographing. Picturesque is both accurate and a cliché. The two things that hold the imagination of folks there seem to be bourbon and horses.
After the tour, we drove into Frankfort. Frankfort, along with being the state capitol, is also the public art capitol of Kentucky. Lots of murals and street sculpture. We didn’t have the time to really go through it. (One thing, the only Frank Lloyd Wright house in Kentucky is in Frankfort, but it is privately owned and not open for tours. Still, it would have been cool to see it.)
We returned to Louisville and later had dinner at one of the local “famous” watering holes, Jack Fry’s Bar & Grill. Fry was a boxer and opened the restaurant and it is one those “everyone has eaten here” kind of places. The food was excellent, but it was too loud to really carry on any kind of conversation. (I had lamb chops, Donna has a pork chop.)
We Ubered. I don’t usually, but it was not my choice. 
Watching Maia navigate the rides prompts me to rethink my attitude.
A lot of upgrading seems to be going on. The confluence of neglect and revitalization is everywhere, and walking down to the river into the museum and bourbon crawl district was a treat.
We toured the Frazier History Museum. Again, a great deal of display space allocated to bourbon, but there’s a lot of early Republic history there. George Rogers Clarke has a statue overlooking the Ohio, and the Frazier had an elaborate Lewis & Clarke section.
On Saturday we walked around a lot, which only made it obvious, despite the pleasure, that we didn’t have enough time. So clearly a return trip is in the future.
We lucked out with the weather. Mid-80s most of the time and very cool evenings. We ended with dinner at a place called Proof (you can interpret that as you will) which turned out to be attached to a 21C Museum Hotel. So after dinner, we toured their current art show.
All in all, as near perfect a long weekend as could be had. I’ll add a few more photographs below
