As we stood ordering bagels, we suddenly remembered we had eaten lunch at the same Noah’s on the day before we flew to Buenos Aires in early October. “I feels like we were just here,” Colly said, and I agreed while my chest hiccuped with anxiety.

It felt as though all those months abroad — which had stretched so elastically and netted so much in a single week, so that on the first of every month I’d express disbelief at how much we had experienced — had snapped back and condensed into a blip to make mental space for the task of reorganizing our lives and getting ready to move back into the house.

Checking out of a hotel in Marlow, England, on our last morning before flying back to California.

I’m feeling profoundly mixed emotions upon our return and need to think more about the transition before trying to write much about it. I got weepy on our last night in Marlow, a lovely town outside of London, as we checked out of a hotel a final time and toasted our trip; then, I got teary with joy as we approached my hometown of Ojai last weekend for a reunion. I also am in the process of thinking through the next phase of this blog, so stay tuned and thanks to all of you who’ve read it regularly!

In the meantime, I’m publishing the following list as proof and as a reminder to myself that we really went to all of these places. We called this our “sleepover list” and had fun updating it as we traveled. Most are linked to previous blog posts if we wrote about that destination. Three places are listed twice since we visited there twice, so the number of places totals 83, but the bottom line is that we moved and unpacked 86 times!

The Sleepover List: August 15, 2009 – June 15, 2010:

1. Claremont hotel, Oakland (slept there the night before we left since our house was all packed up)
2. Holiday Inn Express, Fallon, Nevada
3. Days Inn, Delta, Utah
4. My brother and sister-in-law’s cabin on Last Dollar Road in Telluride, Colorado
5. Colorado River campsite during rafting trip
6. Holiday Inn Express, Moab
7. Mountain Village condo near Telluride
8. Mesa Verde National Park motel, Colorado
9. Double Tree Hotel, Durango, Colorado
10. Pearl Street rental home in Boulder, Colorado
11. Quality Inn near Black Canyon National Park, Gunnison, Colorado
12. Telluride family cabin again
13. Red Feather Inn near the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, Arizona (what a dump!)
14. El Portal Hotel, Sedona, Arizona
15. Holiday Inn Express on Route 66, Barstow, California
16. Morgan’s parents’ house in Pacific Palisades, California
17. Casa Ojai Best Western, Ojai, California
18. Embassy Suites near LAX
19. Recoleta apartment, Buenos Aires, Argentina
20. Llao Llao hotel, near Bariloche, Argentina
21. Cabaña at Villa Huinid, Bariloche, Argentina
22. Guardianes del Bayo, Villa La Angosturo, Argentina (aka the place with all the gnomes)
23. La Comarca Suites de Montaña hotel next to the gnome cabaña,Villa La Angosturo, Argentina
24. Overnight on the bus to Mendoza (this link is to Colly’s great blog post about the experience)
25. Casa Glebinias, Chacras de Coria (near Mendoza), Argentina
26. Meridiano Sur hotel, Santiago, Chile
27. Quay West apartment, Auckland, New Zealand
28. First night RV: Waiwera Holiday Park, North Island
29. Second night RV: Beachside Holiday Park near Paihia in the Bay of Islands, North Island
30. Third night RV: Kerikeri Top 10 Holiday Park, Kerikeri, Bay of Islands, North Island
31. Fourth night RV: Kauri Coast Top 10 Holiday Park near Dargaville, North Island
32. Last night RV: Orewa Beach Top 10 Holiday Park, Orewa, North Island
33. Cabin at Blue Lake Top 10 Holiday Park, Rotorua, North Island
34. Van der Boom’s house, Whakatane in the Bay of Plenty, North Island
35. Great Lake Motel, Taupo, North Island
36. Holiday Inn, Wellington, North Island
37. Cabin at Harris Hill farm, Nelson, South Island, New Zealand
38. First night campground in Abel Tasman National Park, South Island
39. Second night campground in Abel Tasman National Park, South Island
40. The Barn backpackers’ lodge, Marahau, South Island
41. Abel Tasman Marahau Lodge, Marahau, South Island
42. Chelsea Gateway Motor Lodge, Westport, West Coast of South Island
43. Karamea Last Resort, Karamea, West Coast of South Island
44. Charming Creek B&B, Ngakawau, West Coast of South Island
45. The one and only Blackball Hilton, Blackball, West Coast of South Island
46. Greymouth Gables Inn, Greymouth, West Coast of South Island
47. Flock Hill Lodge along Arthur’s Pass, South Island
48. Kirkpatricks’ guest house, Queenstown, South Island
49. Meriton apartment, Sydney, Australia
50. Jemby Rinjah Eco Lodge in Blackheath by the Blue Mountains, Australia
51. Albury Country Comfort Motel, Albury, New South Wales
52. Jubilee Lake Holiday Park, Daylesford, Victoria
53. Anchor Belle Caravan Park, Phillip Island, Victoria
54. Apartment at 1 Esplanade, Lakes Entrance, Victoria
55. Cabin at Batemans Bay Big4 Holiday Park, Batemans Bay, New South Wales
56. United States Embassy, Canberra, Australian Capital Territory
57. Apartment at Clifton Suites, Canberra, Australian Capital Territory
58. IBIS airport hotel, Sydney (what a dump!)
59. Kowloon Shangri-La hotel, Hong Kong
60. Oakley Court Hotel, Windsor, England (barely 14 hours between flights)
61. Apartment in the Barri Gotic quarter, Barcelona, Spain
62. Aiguaclara Hotel in Begur, Costa Brava, Spain
63. Renaissance airport hotel, Barcelona
64. Apartment in Rome, Italy
65. Apartment in Venice, Italy
66. Albergo il Focolare, Treviso, Italy
67. Hotel Du Lac on Lake Garda, Malcesine, Italy
68. Apartment in Vernazza, Cinque Terre, Italy
69. One night in the awful hotel-that-shall-remain-nameless, Florence, Italy
70. Hotel Loggiato Dei Serviti, Florence, Italy
71. Hotel Hermitage, Prato, Italy
72. Hotel Campione near Lugano, Switzerland
73. Hotel Cascada, Lucerne, Switzerland
74. Hotel Splendid, Interlaken, Switzerland
75. Apartment on Lake Geneva, Montreux, Switzerland
76. Hotel Perren, Zermatt, Switzerland
77. Hilton Garden Inn, Bologna, Italy
78. Hilton Airport Hotel, Rome, Italy
79. Marriott Grosvenor Square, London, England
80. Oakley Court Hotel, Windsor, England
81. The Grand Hotel, Brighton, England
82. Silverdale B&B, Seaford, England
83. The Compleat Angler, Marlow, England
84. Morgan’s parents’ house, Pacific Palisades, California
85. Lower School dorm at The Thacher School, Ojai, California
86. Morgan’s parents’ condo in Mammoth Lakes, California

That’s it! Next stop, on June 20, home in Piedmont, California!

Related posts:

1. Eat, Run, Love
2. Playing Around Rotorua
3. Two Months To Go

We found our rental, 207 Pearl Street, through vrbo.com (Vacation Rental By Owner). Choosing a rental through this website is like throwing darts blindfolded, since all the properties look and sound good — or rather, too good to be true. We felt drawn to this place because of its alluring history as a settler’s farmhouse, and because the map showed it backing up to a green swath of open space yet walking distance to Pearl Street’s shopping district.

But we had done that research months ago, and I hadn’t bothered to recheck the website and reservations before arriving. Consequently, I remembered little about it and couldn’t even recall how many bedrooms it has.

An IPhone snapshot of our arrival Sunday night at 207 Pearl Street, Boulder.

We pulled into the two-story stone dwelling slightly frazzled after a daylong trip from Telluride, which we made longer by missing an exit on the freeway by Denver and then driving two sides of a large triangle. A symphony of crickets greeted us as we parked, and I paused briefly to read the plaque on the home’s side, designating it a city landmark. Then we opened the unlocked front door.

The plaque on the side of the house detailing its history.

We discovered two downstairs rooms that look charmingly anachronistic, framed by distressed wood floors, low wooden ceiling beams, double-hung windows, and chunky rock walls built with gravel-laden cement. In the midst of this antiquated setting stood gleaming stainless-steel appliances and a flat-screen TV. The kids ran from room to room, hollering at the discoveries of whirlpool jets in an oversize tub, skylights that open with the touch of a button, and a fireplace that turns on with a switch.

Meanwhile, I toured the place with my jaw dropped, disbelieving that we found ourselves in such a special place — a home that feels old yet updated, large yet intimate, luxurious yet rustic. It has two bedrooms (three if you count the queen bed wedged into the laundry room) and two baths, but it was built on a mid-19th-century scale, which means doorways and stairways are narrow and just a tad crooked. Taller people surely would hit their head on the low beams.

I puzzled at how the sheetrock against one wall mysteriously stops at a rough edge, revealing original stonework underneath, and how the slate tiles in the upstairs bathroom floor gape open and unintentionally create a little window to the washing machine in the room below. Here and there rusted pipes emerge from walls and go nowhere. Like any truly historic home, it reveals clues about its past that hint at how each generation and every repair added layers to its character and pages to its story.

Teddy feels at home in the small downstairs living room.

Teddy also likes hanging out at the foot of our bed.

We ate a late dinner at a trattoria on Pearl Street and fell into bed exhausted. I woke up when it was still dark outside and worked through the disorientation that comes from spending the night in a new surrounding — where am I? what day is it? My muscles ached from the race I ran Saturday, and my head ached from last night’s wine, so I knew I had to get out and run. I tiptoed around to find running clothes and headed out just after 6 a.m., the sun glowing but not yet showing over the mountains.

I ran no more than a couple hundred yards, to the junction of Pearl Street and Canyon Boulevard, before stopping to take in and fully appreciate the open space preserve so close to our front door. “Settlers Park,” the sign said, named after the settlers who camped under the red rock outcropping that rose suddenly at a trailhead before me. Still not fully awake and scarcely believing the good fortune that led me to this trail on which I could welcome the new day, I began scrambling up the rocky single-track. Midway up I stopped and had second thoughts. I had no idea how steep it was or where it went. This would be a great place to bring the kids and Teddy, I told myself, vowing to explore it with them later. I felt like relaxing my mind and muscles on a gentler and straighter route, so I headed back down and rejoined the main bike path that meandered along Boulder Creek.

Colly and Kyle in the shadows by the trailhead at Settlers Park, which we explored later in the day.

Another 200 yards and I paused again to look around at a grassy area and playground called Eben G. Fine Park, next to the picturesque river. I was at the mouth of Boulder Canyon and the paved path kept going on indefinitely along the shoulder of the river, hugging the sheer canyon walls. Picking up my pace, I discovered the pavement ended after about a mile and gave way to a well-groomed dirt footing ideal for running. No wonder Boulder is a runners’ mecca, I thought. And then, as if to prove my point, the first of several sinewy, elite-looking runners sped past. Faster and more frequently they came, some in matching outfits signifying their place on a team, all of them looking serious at a distance but then smiling as they passed.

I returned after about five miles, just as the others were waking. The kids and I walked a half-mile east on Pearl for breakfast at the nearest cafe while Morgan headed off on his bike.

I knew, and the kids knew, that we should get back to the house and start the day’s schooling, but we shared the sense that we’d rather explore. “Maybe we could do PE first,” said Kyle, “PE” being our tongue-in-cheek term for legitimizing playing and running around.

“Yeah, and it might get cloudy later, so we should go out now,” Colly added. Easily persuaded, I agreed that we should walk to the park.

Morgan, the kids and Teddy reunite on the bike path this morning.

Walking along the bike path, we soon spotted Morgan riding the other way. He turned around and went with us to the playground. First the kids played on the swings, then they splashed in the river.

Kyle and Colly "doing PE" in Boulder Creek this morning.

We were in no hurry to go anywhere, not compelled to do anything. Eventually the kids agreed it was time to go back. Morgan and I helped them with their schooling for a couple of hours, then we took a break, and then we spent more time reading and writing. The wi-fi was fickle, so we took more breaks. We made plans to buy groceries and take Colly to a drop-in gymnastics class tonight. Morgan ran an errand to the camera store.

And that’s all, and that’s why I love it here.

Colly and I spent time together this afternoon writing in the little office off the master bedroom, overlooking a terraced garden in back. The room probably used to be a back porch.

Related posts:

1. Boulder For Real
2. 36 Hours in Telluride, CO
3. Magic at Mesa Verde and Along the San Juan Skyway

Subtle graffiti on this sign on the way into Telluride ("pricy" conditions may exist) signals locals' ambivalence toward the town's growth and gentrification.

This weekend, Sept. 4 – 7, Telluride’s annual film festival will transform the town. Its population of about 2200 will triple and its main street, Colorado Avenue, will be packed with visitors. I’ve never actually been to Film Fest but hear the scene is undeniably cool, and my family got a kick out of spotting Ken Burns outside of our favorite burrito place (La Cocina de Luz) the other night.

As a quasi-local lifelong lover of Telluride, I can’t help feel some reverse snobbery and sadness that a lot of these festival-goers — like a lot of skiers who briefly visit in winter — miss out on some of the more authentic, historic and out-of-the-way treasures that make Telluride what it is. For them, I offer this alternative weekend guide to Telluride, with apologies to The New York Times Travel Section for copping its “36 Hours” format. (The Times published its own “36 Hours in Telluride” in January of 2005, which was geared toward winter activities and dining and shopping downtown.)

Friday afternoon: Arrive in Telluride. Got that? TELLURIDE, not Mountain Village. I have heard dear misinformed friends say, “Oh, I love Telluride!” and then reveal that they spent a week in Mountain Village over Christmas break, as though the two towns were synonymous. They are not. Mountain Village is an oversized, overpriced and soulless master-planned golf and ski village-with-no-sense-of-community carved into the mountain above Telluride in 1987 and connected to town by a gondola. Its collection of hotel-sized homes, high-density condos and massive lodges senselessly thrown up around ski runs and fairways follows a disastrous design aesthetic that mixes Swiss Chalet, Italianate, Rocky Mountain Logs on Steroids and Disneyland California Craftsman. Most of these dwellings are vacation retreats and consequently sit empty, contributing to a spooky emptiness and “For Rent” signs on many Mountain Village storefronts. The weirdness of the place inspired the utterly brilliant mockumentary Lost People of Mountain Village, a must-see for any Telluride Film Festival-goer.

(In case you’re wondering why I dislike the place so much: I remember how that mountainside looked in its natural state because I took care of a horse there in the summer of ’86 and loved riding where the golf course now sits, and every time I drive to town on Last Dollar Road, the exquisite view of Telluride is marred by the The Peaks Resort dominating the landscape. ‘Nuff said.)

So, back to Telluride midday on a Friday. Start on the corner of Oak and Colorado Ave., in between two famous historic buildings: the San Miguel County Courthouse and the Sheridan Opera House. Buy a crepe or falafel from one of the food carts if you’re hungry, and cross the street to soak in the scene at a grassy square called Elks Park. There, mounted on some boulders in the park’s garden and at other points around town, are plaques describing Telluride’s past. Reading about these milestone moments — involving the mines, the railroad, and the flip of a switch that lit up the town and successfully demonstrated alternating current for the first time — gives visitors an appreciation for the town’s colorful history, which has been shaped by forward-thinkers, risk-takers and boom-and-bust cycles.

Hungry for more info on the region, walk down the block to Between the Covers bookstore and cafe, a beloved local institution since 1974. Be sure to buy a copy of The Telluride Story: A Tale of Two Towns by David S. Lavender (shameless plug — it’s written by my grandfather, with an update by my dad). Then, walk one more block down to Fir, hang a left, and up two more to the Telluride Historical Museum.

My kids in front of the Telluride Historical Museum.

I simply love this place. It’s in the town’s old hospital, built in 1896, and takes an hour or less to tour. My favorite room there replicates the house and lifestyle of Harriet Fish Backus, author of the memoir Tomboy Bride, about living in the Tomboy Mines community above Telluride at the turn of the century.

Stretch your legs in the afternoon with an easy walk to and around Town Park (follow either Colorado or Pacific avenues east to reach it) — a place our family visits nearly every day because the kids love the fishing pond, play structure, public pool and ice rink. Here, on the field that stretches out below Bear Creek Canyon, big-name bands rock the park under blue skies or stars, making an unforgettable concert experience.

Morgan's snapshot of The Grateful Dead playing Telluride Town Park in 1987.

(I still consider seeing the Grateful Dead there in ’87, on a weekend of trippy planetary alignment known as the Harmonic Convergence, a highlight of my college days.)

Where was I? The Dead, ’87 … oh yes, Town Park. From there, take an easy walk, just under 2 miles, east on the San Miguel River trail (toward the end of town) and you’ll be on a path toward Bridal Veil Falls called the Idarado Legacy Trail, basically a bike path but a beautiful place to stroll, with more plaques about the area’s history along the way. If you’re up for a real run, hike, bike or 4-wheel-drive excursion, keep going where the pavement ends at the old Pandora Mill and continue up, up, up 1,200 feet of switchbacks to Bridal Veil Falls, where a 105-year-old, fully restored hydroelectric powerhouse sits perched at the top of falls that tumble almost 400 feet. (“That looks like the house from Up!” my daughter exclaimed when she first glimpsed the powerhouse). It’s about a mile and a quarter from the end of the Idarado Legacy Trail to the bottom of Bridal Veil falls, with spectacular views of town along the way.

Life is sweet on Telluride's main street! Here our family -- including my parents, brother, and sister-in-law -- eats ice cream from The Sweet Life on Colorado Ave.

Friday dinner: Telluride’s copious dining choices are too diverse to detail here, so I’ll mention just one favorite: Hongas Lotus Petal, an eclectic menu with a great atmosphere (upscale but relaxed) that bills itself as Pan Asian and mostly organic. I love being able to get inventive salads, Thai curries and high-quality sushi all in one sitting, and they have an appealing kids’ menu. Afterward, indulge in ice cream at The Sweet Life on Colorado Avenue near the corner of Pine.

Saturday morning: Get an early start because two of the best runs or hikes from town — Tomboy Mine and Bear Creek Falls — can get relatively crowded with weekend trekkers. Fuel up on bagels at Baked In Telluride on Fir Street, the best local bakery.

Morgan and the kids stop by Baked In Telluride for bagels and muffins.

Then choose either Tomboy or Bear Creek for a morning-long outing.

Tomboy: harder (5 miles one way and 2650 elevation gain), glorious views of town and the mountains, and you’re rewarded by arriving at the ghost town of the old mining camp (read about some Tomboy history and my experience running up there on an earlier blog post). You can go two miles farther up to reach the 13,114-foot Imogene Pass. The downside is you’ll encounter Jeeps and dirtbikes on this road since it’s open to 4-wheel-drive high-clearance vehicles. The trailhead is at the north end of Oak Street.

Bear Creek: easier than Tomboy (just under 2.5 miles, 1040 feet elevation gain and less rocky of a road) and in some ways nicer than Tomboy because the road is closed to vehicles and winds through a forest. You’re rewarded by reaching the gushing Bear Creek falls. The downside is you miss the view of town that Tomboy offers, but the view from the top of this canyon offers more than enough payoff to make the hike worth it. The trailhead is at the end of South Pine Street.

Saturday lunch: If you’re famished from several hours of high-altitude exercise, I’d recommend the Floradora Saloon on main street near the corner of Pine. The Floradora used to be a funkier local’s spot — a Western saloon version of Cheers — back in the day when a gregarious New York transplant named Howie ran it and my oldest sister’s friend’s stained-glass creations hung from all the walls.  Like the town, the Floradora’s vibe and menu have changed — it’s as much Californian as Coloradan, with cosmopolitan twists (e.g. chipolte aioli and roasted veggies) on burger-and-fries standards — but being a Californian in Colorado, I can’t say I don’t like it.

Saturday afternoon: Carve out a couple of hours to read and browse at the fabulous Wilkinson Public Library, a 20,000-square-foot brick building at the corner of Pine and Pacific, which opened in 2000 after a referendum that passed by only two votes. With a calendar full of free movies and events, the place feels as much like a community center as a library. My kids spend hours in the children’s room there, reading in a treehouse-type structure or playing on the computer terminals. The upstairs Telluride Room is dedicated to regional history.

If you consider shopping a recreational activity and feel the need to spend money on Colorado Ave., then spend it at two venerable shops: Telluride Trappings & Toggery, and Zia Sun. The Toggery has been around forever (or at least 30-plus years) and still has the best selection of clothing and jewelry for women, men and kids — truly wearable, long-lasting, good-looking stuff. Zia Sun has a distinctive collection of toys, knick-knacks and cards and has always been more practical than touristy.

Whenever you’re shopping downtown Telluride, stop by and pay homage to The Free Box, an iconic institution at the corner of North Pine and Colorado. The “box” is actually a collection of cubbies full of free clothing and household items that people swap. Its proudly grassroots, good-karma tradition was tarnished in recent years when the corner became a dumping ground for unsightly bulky items like rotting sofas and broken appliances, but local leaders enacted some regulation to restore the balance and The Free Box lives on. (Read a lovely article about it by fiction writer Antonya Nelson, a Telluride native, in this month’s Smithsonian.)

Saturday night: As mentioned above, the fine-dining and bar-hopping options are plentiful, but after such a full day I’m ready to turn in early.  A night at home with a take-and-bake from Brown Dog Pizza (110 W Colorado Ave.) and a six-pack of my favorite regional brew, Dale’s Pale Ale, bought across the street at Telluride Liquors, suits me just fine.

Bonus content if you have an extra half-day to spend. (Leave it to me to write the section below before realizing that would add up to approx 48 hours, not 36. Oh, well!)

Sunday morning: Drive down Highway 145 to explore the area known as Down Valley. The red-rock-rimmed canyon carved by the San Miguel River travels through the homey communities of Sawpit and Placerville. Stop at the Sawpit Store, 12 miles west of Telluride, for essential fishing and picnic supplies. Then, if you have kids, go a bit farther down the highway until just before you reach the town of Placerville, and on the left by the river sits Down Valley Park. A fishing pond, play structure, river trail and sports field satisfy everyone’s desires for outdoor fun.

Morgan helps Colly and Kyle catch and release a trout from Down Valley Park near Placerville.

Finally, a trip to Telluride wouldn’t feel complete to me without a picnic at Woods Lake, about a 9-mile drive from Highway 145 up Fall Creek Road. It’s hard to say what makes this lake so special — our family’s tradition of camping there no doubt influences my recommendation — but virtualy anyone would appreciate the serenity of the glassy water ringed by mountains among the aspen groves.

(Thanks to my parents, David G. and Val Lavender, who used to live in Telluride; and my brother and sister-in-law, David W. and Karen Lavender, who currently live in Telluride and teach at the local high school, for their input.)

Related posts:

1. Magic at Mesa Verde and Along the San Juan Skyway
2. Transitioning in Telluride
3. Boulder For Real