We went down into the big city last night to have dinner with our friends Deb & Rodger. While I'm a confirmed mountain dweller and consider the suburbs to be a living death, I would love to be rich enough to own a place in lower downtown Denver, affectionately known as LoDo, which is where they have their loft. Not so very long ago this was an area of derelict warehouses, dirty and dangerous and only frequented by bums, muggers and others who probably had no idea how they ended up there.
Then the city of Denver embarked on a multi-million dollar renovation plan and over the course of about a decade, revitalized the LoDo area in a manner, which many other cities have attempted, but few have managed so successfully. Without, in most cases, losing the architectural charm of the original buildings, the warehouses and factories have been transformed into brewpubs, shops, restaurants and upscale loft developments. I used to work in LoDo, in a converted gunpowder factory, which oozed with charm. Now, as I sit in my desk in a soulless modern building out in the wastelands, I miss it terribly.
Rodger purchased his first loft in the early days of the revitalization. The building in which they now live was originally a candy factory and was only the second development in the scheme. After marrying Deb, they purchased the unit next door, at a cost approximately 10 times higher than the first. Being blessed with exquisite taste, and no noticeable shortage in the budget, they have decorated their living space in a style, which wouldn't be out of place in any glossy home décor magazine.
Dear Wife had a hair appointment downtown during the afternoon so we decided to make a day of it and set off down a little after lunchtime. After dropping her off and parking the car, I set off for a stroll around the streets so familiar to me after 18 months as a LoDo office worker. Even on a cold winter's afternoon, there is a certain buzz to the streets of downtown Denver you don't find in too many US cities, at least not in the west. The store windows were bright, the sidewalks were busy and the piped classical music on Larimer Street added to an atmosphere that would have been almost suitable for Christmas if the timing hadn’t been all wrong. Denver is also one of those cities where the pedestrian is wise to remember to look up, because the architecture is often just, if not more interesting above street level.
Once her coiffure was complete, we still had a couple of hours to spare so found our way to one of the many downtown bars and surrounded ourselves by the beautiful people of LoDo. Being two of the less beautiful people, this isn't our normal environment but tonight, dressed in our best duds, removed from the plastic dry cleaners bags especially for the occasion, we blended like the sophisticated society lizards we are. A couple of martinis always make me feel good, particularly on an empty stomach so it was in a mellow and relaxed mood we arrived at Deb & Rodger's loft.
With its hardwood floors and exposed brick walls, industrial piped central heating and futuristic lines; it would be easy for the loft to appear cold and clinical. However, such is the skill, with which they've decorated, it oozes warmth and comfort. Every item of furniture, electrical equipment and decorative accessory has been carefully selected and positioned for maximum effect and the overall ambience is one of classic style and elegance.
Even the view out of the windows is attractive. Particularly in the evening, the downtown lights sparkle and glow with an intensity that simply pulses with energy. The street noise is audible, but not to the point of being disturbing. And the Bose speakers can easily drown out the traffic, even when an emergency vehicle is passing with its sirens blaring.
In contrast to me, Deb is a city inhabitant at heart, and proud of it. She loves being surrounded by buildings, being close to her neighbors and having a wealth of restaurants and bars on her doorstep. In the early days following our move, when we were beset with one problem after another, from wildfires to a collapsed well, to an infestation of squirrels, she regularly reminded me of the perils of rural living. "Are you sure you want to live in the mountains?" She would ask. However, when they visited us a few months ago, and we took her out for a walk with the dogs, even she had to admit the peace and tranquility of our little slice of heaven, was an intoxicating mix.
The party over, we headed out into the night and left the city for the 50-mile haul up the hill. Late February snow was coating the road and hitting the windshield straight on, making the drive long and tiring. My commute forces me to rise early so midnight is way past my usual bedtime. We rarely broke 40 mph and by the time we finally pulled into the driveway, it was well after 1 am and I could think of little but falling into bed. Pulling open the door, I walked into our own familiar living room. Framed with dark wood, and inexpensive furnishings, covered with a fine layer of dog hair and smelling faintly of pee, our house will never grace the cover of any fine living journal. However, it's our home, we love it and there's no denying; it's a comfortable place to come home to.
We have no restaurants on our doorstep and our nearest bar is 9 miles away. The second nearest is 10 miles, in the opposite direction. We drive for twenty minute to reach our nearest supermarket and my office is over an hour away, without traffic. There are no nightclubs, chic stores or sports stadiums. If ever we were to need the emergency services it would take them at least fifteen minutes to get here, and far longer to transport us to the nearest hospital.
We do however; have deer, and elk, and squirrels, and foxes. And at night, instead of the hum of traffic, we get the wind whistling through the trees. We're so close to the stars, it's like you could almost touch them. So while the downtown lofts are beautiful, this is where I belong.
Just click your heels and say three times "There's no place like home".
Then the city of Denver embarked on a multi-million dollar renovation plan and over the course of about a decade, revitalized the LoDo area in a manner, which many other cities have attempted, but few have managed so successfully. Without, in most cases, losing the architectural charm of the original buildings, the warehouses and factories have been transformed into brewpubs, shops, restaurants and upscale loft developments. I used to work in LoDo, in a converted gunpowder factory, which oozed with charm. Now, as I sit in my desk in a soulless modern building out in the wastelands, I miss it terribly.
Rodger purchased his first loft in the early days of the revitalization. The building in which they now live was originally a candy factory and was only the second development in the scheme. After marrying Deb, they purchased the unit next door, at a cost approximately 10 times higher than the first. Being blessed with exquisite taste, and no noticeable shortage in the budget, they have decorated their living space in a style, which wouldn't be out of place in any glossy home décor magazine.
Dear Wife had a hair appointment downtown during the afternoon so we decided to make a day of it and set off down a little after lunchtime. After dropping her off and parking the car, I set off for a stroll around the streets so familiar to me after 18 months as a LoDo office worker. Even on a cold winter's afternoon, there is a certain buzz to the streets of downtown Denver you don't find in too many US cities, at least not in the west. The store windows were bright, the sidewalks were busy and the piped classical music on Larimer Street added to an atmosphere that would have been almost suitable for Christmas if the timing hadn’t been all wrong. Denver is also one of those cities where the pedestrian is wise to remember to look up, because the architecture is often just, if not more interesting above street level.
Once her coiffure was complete, we still had a couple of hours to spare so found our way to one of the many downtown bars and surrounded ourselves by the beautiful people of LoDo. Being two of the less beautiful people, this isn't our normal environment but tonight, dressed in our best duds, removed from the plastic dry cleaners bags especially for the occasion, we blended like the sophisticated society lizards we are. A couple of martinis always make me feel good, particularly on an empty stomach so it was in a mellow and relaxed mood we arrived at Deb & Rodger's loft.
With its hardwood floors and exposed brick walls, industrial piped central heating and futuristic lines; it would be easy for the loft to appear cold and clinical. However, such is the skill, with which they've decorated, it oozes warmth and comfort. Every item of furniture, electrical equipment and decorative accessory has been carefully selected and positioned for maximum effect and the overall ambience is one of classic style and elegance.
Even the view out of the windows is attractive. Particularly in the evening, the downtown lights sparkle and glow with an intensity that simply pulses with energy. The street noise is audible, but not to the point of being disturbing. And the Bose speakers can easily drown out the traffic, even when an emergency vehicle is passing with its sirens blaring.
In contrast to me, Deb is a city inhabitant at heart, and proud of it. She loves being surrounded by buildings, being close to her neighbors and having a wealth of restaurants and bars on her doorstep. In the early days following our move, when we were beset with one problem after another, from wildfires to a collapsed well, to an infestation of squirrels, she regularly reminded me of the perils of rural living. "Are you sure you want to live in the mountains?" She would ask. However, when they visited us a few months ago, and we took her out for a walk with the dogs, even she had to admit the peace and tranquility of our little slice of heaven, was an intoxicating mix.
The party over, we headed out into the night and left the city for the 50-mile haul up the hill. Late February snow was coating the road and hitting the windshield straight on, making the drive long and tiring. My commute forces me to rise early so midnight is way past my usual bedtime. We rarely broke 40 mph and by the time we finally pulled into the driveway, it was well after 1 am and I could think of little but falling into bed. Pulling open the door, I walked into our own familiar living room. Framed with dark wood, and inexpensive furnishings, covered with a fine layer of dog hair and smelling faintly of pee, our house will never grace the cover of any fine living journal. However, it's our home, we love it and there's no denying; it's a comfortable place to come home to.
We have no restaurants on our doorstep and our nearest bar is 9 miles away. The second nearest is 10 miles, in the opposite direction. We drive for twenty minute to reach our nearest supermarket and my office is over an hour away, without traffic. There are no nightclubs, chic stores or sports stadiums. If ever we were to need the emergency services it would take them at least fifteen minutes to get here, and far longer to transport us to the nearest hospital.
We do however; have deer, and elk, and squirrels, and foxes. And at night, instead of the hum of traffic, we get the wind whistling through the trees. We're so close to the stars, it's like you could almost touch them. So while the downtown lofts are beautiful, this is where I belong.
Just click your heels and say three times "There's no place like home".
