Even if the Kentucky trip was a short three days, we found a nice rhythm. Traditional American breakfast of omelets, bean gravy, a French toast and orange juice followed by semi-aimless driving until sundown. The almost-warm October evenings were reserved for craft beers with local friends.
In addition to the touristy Keeneland Racetrack and Natural Bridge, about fifty blocks of old Victorian mansions was a hard pass. While a random Tuesday in fall is low-key in itself, nothing about Belgravia Court in Old Louisville is. The palatial homes could easily be mistaken for monuments of historic significance from the outside. It is but a shame that I couldn’t get inside one of these eight-plus bedroom extravagance. Belgravia Court itself is quite a planned little street. With beautiful villas on each side, the trees and shrubs on the median strip were compelling for a second stroll.
A journey outward must accompany a journey inward. As I walked through the Belgravia Court, I couldn’t help but notice the absence of noise. The silence almost made me hear my own thoughts. Thankfully, the meditative qualities of footsteps came out reminding me to slow down and breathe. Stirring thoughts settled and the muck fell to the bottom of the bucket. The quiet space between thoughts slowly grew. A moment of calm in the midst of larger-than-life architecture hinted that there is always time to slow down and absorb the life within time.
Being born and raised a city-girl, about seven seconds later came the useless temptation to check on Zillow if any of these houses were on sale – and of course – how much did they cost? To spare you the suspense I can say they were about 300k –reasonable eh?
As I walked by the corner of St. James and Belgravia court, I asked myself if I would ever buy a gentleman’s club and turn it into a mansion to actually live in it. Who’s to judge the vibe of the place and whether a gut-renovated nine-bedroom would make me forget that it was a brothel some time ago? What prompted the question was The Pink Palace which was, in early 1800s, one such club!
At the tail end of the three days, we drove by Nicholasville where my friend is originally from. Driving on dimly lit country roads with no stoplights seemed eerie in the dark of night. No question I took picture of another mansion – the lights outside were simply mesmerizing at night.
