Jimmy was the best tour guide I've ever met. Brilliant, enthusiastic, great with the kids, so good in fact that when we bought a cuddly Buffalo (as you do), we immediately named it Jimmy. Jimmy is currently charging round the house giving the panthers hell, but that's another story. We enjoyed a great tour, visiting a warehouse and seeing one of the smaller batch lines where Blanton's is bottled. Tasting was duly undertaken, and the only slight disappointment was that the distillery gift shop didn't have anywhere near the full range of whiskeys that they produce - it's easier to source the stuff in the UK for some bizarre reason. Since I've returned I've done exactly that, as my bottle of George T Stagg is nearly finished, and it will be a sad day when the last drop goes.
We had lunch at the only place that was open in town, a Mexican. The children discovered tacos, and still clamour for them back home, to the extent that we now have Taco Friday. Sour cream, completely unacceptable previously, is now eagerly devoured if in a taco shell. Who knew. Whereas Ohio is flat, especially as you go further north towards the lake, Kentucky is state of rolling green hills, and near little farms with white picket fences. It's horse country, and felt pretty afluent. I kept wondering what it would have been like before settlement, in fact with the proliferation of cities and concrete in the US, I wondered this a lot. I think I need to go and watch some Westerns or something. Except they're mostly filmed in Spain or somewhere. Nevermind, too late now. But it would have been spectacularly lovely. To be fair it was still lovely, and I regret that we never really stopped but went straight back to Ohio as we had a pretty full agenda to be getting on with. One more night in Cincinnati and then we were off to Buffalo. As in Buffalo, New York. And you know what's there, right?
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