A Whirlwind Visit to Cincinnati, America’s “Queen City”

One great joy of traveling in a tour group is making new friends.  It’s easy to do. I’m biased, of course, but people who love travel tend to be open-minded, fun, intelligent, and interesting.  On my recent trips to Australia/New Zealand and Indochina, I met several such folks, four of whom – two from each trip – live in or near America’s Queen City, Cincinnati.  (The moniker apparently comes from a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, “Catawba Wine,” not from an unusual concentration of folks in drag, though perhaps I just missed that part of town.)

Being roughly as gaga about baseball as I am about travel, I checked the Reds’ schedule and foisted myself on my Cincinnati peeps right after July Fourth, spending a wonderful whirlwind of a weekend in an attractive, culinarily-blessed city that feels more like an amiable small town.

Getting and Staying There

Cincinnati’s airport lies just across the Ohio River in Kentucky, twenty minutes or so from downtown.  It’s compact (as major city airports go) and easily navigated, and even though I returned home on the Sunday of July 4 weekend, there were negligible security lines.

My friends recommended the AC Hotel, which is literally fifty feet from the entrance to Great American Ballpark in an area (“The Banks”) rife with bars and restaurants.  It’s a Marriott property, close to Cincinnati’s iconic Roebling bridge and the riverfront and an easy walk or free trolley ride into downtown. 

The hotel is blandly modern, but there’s a nice rooftop bar from which we watched postgame fireworks (the Reds neglected to provide much incendiary activity during the actual game).  On the downside, the WiFi was the slowest I’ve ever experienced in a hotel, at times reminiscent of the glacial download speeds you find on cruise ships.

Great American Ballpark

The Reds are the oldest continuously operating baseball franchise in America, and their stadium honors this distinction with an on-site hall of fame and museum and statues of past greats (Bench, Perez, Rose, etc.). 

The stadium itself has good sight lines (we sat one row down from the concourse by the right field foul pole and could see everything), and the crowd (both Reds fans and those rooting for the Tigers) was loud and enthusiastic. 

Showing great hospitality, the Reds made this Nats fan feel at home by falling behind early and not quite scoring enough runs to come back.

What to Do (Non-Eating/Drinking Division)

Cincinnati is a gem.  The downtown area – particularly the adjacent neighborhood known as OTR (“Over the Rhine”) – is filled with lovingly restored 19^th century buildings and revitalized parks and public spaces. 

This part of the city got its moniker from the influx of German immigrants who settled near a long-since paved-over canal jokingly referred to by the name of their erstwhile homeland’s storied river. 

The restoration work is managed by a private non-profit corporation known as 3CDC (the Cincinnati Center City Development Corp.), which as far as I can tell is doing a fantastic job.

One of the highlights of OTR is Findlay Market (1801 Race Street), a cast-iron framed building that’s been operating since 1855.  Inside, purveyors of pork, beef, seafood, and produce ply their wares.  Outside on weekends, there are stalls selling food, handicrafts, and much more.  I’m a sucker for markets like these, which show why living in an urban environment can be so enticing.

Many of the buildings in this area sport colorful murals – in fact, the concentration of public art in downtown Cincinnati is as high as I’ve seen anywhere in my travels.  These murals add touches of whimsy, history, and plain old eye candy while one strolls among the bars, boutiques, cafes, and restaurants (more on those in the next section).

Closer to the river, a must-see attraction is the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center (50 East Freedom Way).  This wonderful institution has permanent and periodic exhibits focusing not just on the Underground Railroad (for which Cincinnati was a key hub), but the struggle for freedom everywhere.  The exhibits are well-presented and interactive, and there are several films dealing with slavery, abolition, and the quest for freedom.  One powerful exhibit is a slave pen (jail) built in 1830; this and several other displays struck deep emotional chords with me. 

Importantly, the Freedom Center squarely addresses aspects of our nation’s history that legislators and governors in several states are trying to remove from school curricula – not least, that the Constitution wove slavery into the fabric of country’s being and that every President up to Abraham Lincoln, except for John Adams and John Quincy Adams (both ardent abolitionists), owned slaves.  I can’t say enough about what an important, visit-worthy institution this is.

What to Do (Eating and Drinking Division)

Based on my 24 hours or so of intensive noshing, nibbling, sipping, and slurping, I can confidently say that Cincinnati is a gustatory paradise.  The city is famous for its chili, but as a non-meat eater, I didn’t sample its signature dish (apparently Skyline Chili is the place to go). 

Instead, I ate and drank at a selection of cafes, wine bars, and restaurants expertly curated by my friends Kelly and Peg.  (Having eaten and drunk my way through Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia in their delightful company, I knew we would dine deliciously, drink delectably, and burn off the calories laughing.)  Here’s the list:

Jean Robert’s Bistro (713 Vine Street) –  wonderful omelets, quiches, and heartier French cuisine.  We went for brunch, obviating the need – but not the desire – to eat for the rest of the day.

Hart & Cru (1206 Broadway) – a tasting shop offering a terrific assortment of wines by the glass or the bottle along with inexpensive, scrumptious bar bites.  It’s a tiny place with a friendly, super-knowledgeable staff.

Abigail Street (1214 Vine Street) – delicious meze/tapas served by an eclectic, fun staff (including one server in a monk’s robe and another one in full goth regalia).  We plowed our way through falafel, gnocchi, spiced broccoli, gambas al ajillo, peach and tomato salad, bouillabaisse ….

… but still left room for dessert at Graeter’s (511 Walnut Street), a Cincinnati ice cream institution that’s gone nationwide.  I had a scoop of brown butter bourbon pecan, which was even better than it sounds.   

Wrap-up

Cincinnati is a charming, friendly city with much to offer.  It’s small enough that my friends were constantly bumping into people they knew, but big enough to support several professional sports teams, excellent museums, and a thriving culture and food scene.  Like all cities, it has some intractable problems, including crime and homelessness.  But the powers-that-be, both public and private, have done a fine job making it a livable, welcoming place.

Let me end with notes of appreciation:  Mark and Marcy (Australia trip alums), thanks for making time to meet me for lunch Friday even though you were about to head out of town.  Next time in DC!

Kelly and Peg (and Hans and Wendy), thanks for being such fun and warm-hearted hosts.  May our paths cross again soon!