Saturday, 4/11:
11:35 AM - Load everything into the car. For an overnight trip, I sure do pack a bunch of stuff. It takes me two trips out to the car. But one of the bags is a cooler full of breast milk. Ahh! The things you never think you'll say:
"Oh, no, it's ok officer. That cooler's full of breast milk. That's right. Just carting around a cooler full of MILK MY BODY MADE." (Michael says I think this is funnier than it actually is...)
11:36 AM - Decide to write weather.com a highly disgruntled letter. They've been very inaccurate as of late. They said it would be 65 and cloudy. Local weather this morning said the high is supposed to be 52 and it's supposed to drizzle all day. Local weather so far has won out. Thank goodness I packed so much crap - including a variety of outfits for all weather options and a jacket.
11:36:30 AM - I vow to continue to be an over-packer. Airline executives somehow hear this vow and do a little victory dance, "cha chinging" in their head as they count up my baggage fees.
11:36:45 AM - Airline executives quickly change their tune once they remember it's my husband, not me, who does all the traveling.
11:38 AM - Go to the front desk to check out and get directions to Biltmore. I'm given a map with a highlighted route. The front desk guy tells me to "turn right at the Biltmore McDonalds" to enter the estate. Biltmore McDonalds? Really? "Oh, yes. It's very fancy!" he replies sarcastically.
11:45 AM - Start driving through town. Realize that the map given to me by the hotel is NOT to scale. But I'm pretty proud of myself that I only had to turn around twice.
11:52 AM - Pass the Biltmore McDonalds. Hilarious! I wonder if the food takes like the Guilded Age - smothered in unnecessary decadence with a side order of shameful excess. Maybe the little Monopoly man is in there, riding around in his little silver car. I bet everyone is wearing monocles...
11:53 AM - Arrive at the Lodge Gate - the entryway into the estate. I have to admit - I'm impressed. I think the gatehouse is bigger than my house. I'm pretty sure of it.
11:55 AM - Follow the cars around a beautiful, winding country road, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Wish Michael were with me, so he could appreciate this too. But I'm loving the silence even more. (Another thing I never thought I'd hear myself say.)
11:57 AM - Too late. I hand my ticket to the agent and continue on into the estate. I don't need a map anyway. I'll just get one once I park and get to the house...
11:57:30 AM - I follow the three cars in front of me who turn right. I turn right too.
12:02 PM - This estate is huge. I've been driving for 5 minutes and have yet to see any civilization. Or anything that looks like a château. I mean, it's huge, right? There's no way I'm going to miss it...
12:03 PM - Finally see something. It's huge. And beautiful. But it doesn't look like the pictures I've seen. Hmm... Are there two houses?
12:03:30 PM - Ok. There's the winery. And up ahead are the farms. So I guess that is the house? But it's up this HUGE hill. And the only parking lot I see is here at the winery. So I guess I have to park and hike? Now I really wish I would have gotten a map...
12:05 PM - Park and walk up to the winery to ask for better directions to the house, before hiking all the way up the hill. The girl working tells me I need to go back out to the road and turn left. "So I need to get back in my car?" I clarify. She looks at me with pity and says, "Yes. The house is 5 miles in the other direction." Since I've already proven to her how stupid I am, I decide I might as well ask what that building is on top of the hill. "The Biltmore Estate Inn."
12:06 PM - Back in my car. Frustrated that I didn't take the time to do a little more research about the estate and all that's offered here before coming. Definitely frustrated that I didn't stop to get a map. The house closes at 4:00, and I have no idea how long it takes to tour the whole house. The little research I did do on the website says that on Saturdays they have timed entries into the house, meaning you have to get a ticket to enter that has a time stamp on it. Kinda like "Fast Passes" at Disney. And if you come after 1:00, they don't guarantee you entry into the house. For a $50 admission, I had better get in the house. And there had better be a roller coaster in there. Or at least a spinning tea cup.
12:13 PM - Pass the entrance where the attendant took my ticket and see two very clearly marked signs. One says "House and Gardens." The other says "Farm, Winery, and Inn." All I can say is "Baaaa!" Yes, I'm the sheep that blindly followed the other sheep, not looking for any indication of where I was going.
12:15 PM - Find the parking lot for the house, then wander around trying to find how to get to the house from here (because it's still not visible). Hmmm... Some people are walking this way - maybe I'll follow them. Baaaa!
12:15:30 PM - Happen upon a sign that says "Biltmore House 8 minutes" at a trail head. So we do have to hike there. Good thing I wore my comfy shoes. Did all the rich people have to hike to the house back in the day? I can't imagine women in pinafores and corsets hiking anywhere.
12:16 PM - I'm on a clearly marked trail, and yet there's no one else here. And it's taking me straight through the woods. Did I unknowingly just become a character in a horror movie? A young mom leaves her kids for a weekend of adventure... but something else was lurking just around the corner...
12:17 PM - I keep walking (it's really pretty and peaceful) and see the reason why I'm the only one on the trail. The trail passes right by the road, and there are trams transporting people from the parking lot to the house. Seriously wished I would have stopped at the visitor's center. I'm feeling really foolish right about now.
12:20 PM - Well, at least I can take consolation in the fact that I'm more in shape than the average Biltmore visitor. 8 minutes - ha! Here's the château right now! Oh, except it has a 3 mile long driveway...
12:23 PM - I make it to the front door. Which is big enough to park a Boeing 747 in. Seriously. I find a sign that tells me where to go to get my "Biltmore Fast Pass" - my time stamped ticket to enter the house.
12:23:30 PM - I approach the stand where a nice elderly man greets me. "Hello," I say. "I'd like a ticket to enter the house, please." "Do you have your estate ticket with you?" WHAT?!? I left it in the car. I didn't realize I still needed it beyond entering the estate. Are you telling me I have to walk back the 8 minutes to my car, then walk back the 8 minutes to the house? Because I still haven't figured out the whole tram thing.
12:24 PM - Practically in tears, I explain to this nice old man what happened. "Are you here alone?" he asks. Is he in on the horror movie plot, too? "Yes," I whimper. "Well, I'll give you a ticket. But don't tell anyone I did." Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!
12:24:30 PM - My time stamp is for 1:15. That gives me 45 minutes to explore the gardens. Which are where, by the way?
12:26 PM - Have to walk past the front of the house (which takes a while) to get to the entrance of the gardens. On my way, I pass a toddler having a meltdown in a stroller pointed in a corner (it's probably nap time) while mom ignores him and takes some pictures. My heart goes out to this mom, and I say a silent prayer of gratitude for my wonderful husband who's watching my girls so I can experience this alone and in peace. As I pass, I hear the two women behind me saying "Why is she ignoring him? Can't she shut him up?" My heart breaks - I've been there, done that, and been judged for it. I want to simultaneously hug the mom and slap the women behind me.
12:27 PM - The entrance to the gardens is gorgeous. Breathtaking. The Blue Ridge Mountains to the right (I have no idea which actual direction) and the gardens straight ahead. The Biltmore Estate was designed to look like a château along the French Riviera - and I must say they succeeded. I mentally send out "I heart France" vibes along to my BF, Bex. I wish she were here with me to see this.
12:28 PM - Enter the Walled Garden, where all the tulips, daffodils, and other gorgeous spring flowers are. It seems the only people here alone are professional photographers with ridiculously tricked out cameras. Mine is a dinky little 5 megapixels Canon that has been dropped and abused by a 2-year-old. I try to capture the beauty anyway.
12:50 PM - I head down to the Conservatory. It's really warm and crowded with people. But there's classical music being piped in. It must be good for the plants. Or make you feel more refined as you sweat and experience a claustrophobic-induced panic attack. It only takes me five minutes in here to realize that I'm no horticulturalist, and I'm not interested in this place.
12:52 PM - I quickly make my way through the mass of plants and people, hearing ridiculous conversations along the way about "species variations" and "climate compatibility." I'm pretty sure these people are full of it - they're just as bored as I am, but they have to pretend to be knowledgeable/care about the plants. It must be the piped in music.
12:53 PM - I find the source of the classical music. Only at Biltmore...
12:55 PM - The inside of the Conservatory may not have interested me, but the outside brings out the inner photog in me. I love the red brick against the dreary gray of the windows.
1:10 PM - Get back up to the "time stamped entry point" after enjoying all the scenic views along the way. Realize I still have 5 minutes left, and I really need to pee, so I'm off to find a Biltmore potty. I wonder if it's gold plated.
1:13 PM - Nope. Just a regular ol' boring public toilet.
1:15 PM - Make it back to the entry point IN TIME! Enter through the largest cast-iron doors I've ever seen, only to come into another entry way with large wooden doors. Nothing says "keep out" like two sets of Trojan-horse sized doors. With stone walls and torches surrounding it.
1:16 PM - At this point, we are asked to choose between a self-guided tour with a tour book, or an audio tour with the same tour book. The audio tour costs $12. I decide I can read well enough for the self-guided tour. We're also told that we can't take pictures inside the house. So I pack my camera in my bag and get ready to enjoy the results of the ridiculous wealth of the Vanderbilt family.
I spent 2 1/2 hours in the house. You are directed from room to room via velvet rope - the whole house tour is mapped out for you, and you may not deviate from it. Of the 250 rooms of the house, the tour allows you to see about 30-40. But I think it's enough to get a feel for the house, its occupants, and life there at the château. You tour all four floors and the basement (the basement is where you get to see the most). The first floor was for entertaining, the second for family bedrooms and studies, the third for guests, and the fourth for servants. There were 40 servant rooms, and the servants had their own kitchen, dining, and sitting room on this floor as well.
Some highlights of my tour:
* What is considered "art" to some is really boring to others. The house is full of "art treasures," and your tour book points them out. I found them uninteresting and uninspiring. I don't think "art" is for the masses - or maybe just me.
* I got really claustrophobic in most of the rooms. For being such a ginormous house, the rooms are relatively small, made to appear even more so by the lack of lighting, dark fabric covered walls, and heavy draperies hanging in each room. I wanted to knock out a bunch of walls, paint the rooms bright, cheery colors, and let in a bunch of light.
* People were really little at the turn of the century. The beds were TINY. There is no way I would ever be comfortable on one, much less Michael. And they just look so boxy.
* There were a lot of "sitting rooms" - all named different things, but all serving the same purpose. The tour book stated that these various rooms were for "resting before meal" or "resting after a meal." In the banquet hall, the book said meals could take up to 5 hours. I decided that people spent the majority of their time resting before or after eating, or actually eating. How would there be time to do anything else?
* I further learned that the "breakfast room" was a misnomer, because the family usually had breakfast delivered to their rooms, and convened in the breakfast room for lunch - to discuss their day's plans. Which I'm sure involved a lot of sitting and eating. Can you imagine not planning your day 'til lunch?
* Three babies were born in the house. As I looked at the sheer size of the house, I was terrified at the prospect of raising a child here - 1) because what child wouldn't absolutely destroy the place, and 2) how could you keep from losing your children? You would never know where they were. My hear skipped a beat (or two!) at the thought of losing Shaelyn there.
* There were plenty of screaming babies and toddlers in strollers throughout the house. When you pay $50 to go to Disney, you bring your kids. When you pay $50 to go to Biltmore, you leave them at home. Just my thought. I don't know how those poor parents were enjoying themselves, or even getting anything out of the trip.
* I really enjoyed eavesdropping on the people around me. And being quiet. I've never gone that long without saying a word, perhaps in my life. It was nice.
* I enjoyed going at my own pace - stopping to look at things that inspired me, and rushing through rooms that did nothing for me. It was nice to do what I wanted, as opposed to what the group, or even Michael wanted.
* My favorite part of the tour was the "restoration wing," where the process for restoring and preserving the house was on display and explained, specifically the 4 new rooms just opened to the public the week before I got there. I spent the longest time there. I'm really into history - I even considered majoring in it for a whole semester of college. Betcha didn't know that about me!
* It was baffling and interesting to consider that my great-grandmother, who's still alive and 107 this year, was a contemporary to this house. It was finished in 1895. George Vanderbilt's daughter was born there in 1900. And my great-grandmother was born in 1902. It made my experience there that much more enjoyable.
* My second favorite part besides the restoration efforts? The fourth floor - the servant's quarters. Some of the furniture is the exact same furniture that was in my great-grandmother's house all during my growing up years. Not to mention that the lifestyle would have been the same. My family was living here in the South, no better off than the servants at Biltmore - in fact, maybe even worse. It was wonderful to see a well-preserved glimpse into the lifestyles of my family's past. When I told my mom of the stark contrast between the 4th floor and the rest of house, and that I liked the 4th floor the best because it reminded me of my heritage, she said, "and don't you forget it!"
* I was kind of turned off, rather than impressed, by the vast extravagance of the house. It seems that that much money could have been put to better use. Instead of ooh'ing and ahh'ing over the decadent living areas, I was truly jealous of the basement and its vast food storage capabilities. One room, designated just for vegetables canned from their kitchen garden, was as large as the entire downstairs of my house. Our food storage has easily outgrown our under-the-stairs closet. And Biltmore had a whole basement full of food storage rooms. (You know you're Suzie Relief Society when you're jealous of food storage...)
* I LOVED the library. Very Beauty and the Beast.
* Why did rich men and women who were married have seperate bedrooms? Never understood that one. Maybe because they married for status and appearances rather than for love, and couldn't stand to sleep in the same bed together. Or maybe just because the beds were so small, there was no way they were going to both fit. No wonder the Vanderbilts only had one heir. (Ever notice that when you're rich, your children aren't referred to as "children," but "heirs?")
Since I can't share with you pictures of the house, if you're interested in seeing what it looks like on the inside, click here or here, and find the "watch slideshow" options about 1/2 down the page. These pictures are better than anything I could have taken anyway, and really give you a feel for the whole interior of the house. (There's a gorgeous picture of the library among them.)
After leaving the house, I enjoyed the used-to-be-the-stables, now-it's-the-courtyard/gift-shop area and had a late lunch of exorbatently priced pizza, water, and chocolate from the chocolatier. I toured the outside of the house and took pictures of parts of the architecture I found most interesting. (It also beat paying an arm and a leg for similar pictures on post cards in the gift shop.)
Stay tuned for my last Mommy Vacation installment: a trip to the winery, petting baby chicks, and a near-accident involving a Segway.
