We toured the house's interior late one afternoon, and almost had it to ourselves. Naturally, the rooms were enormous and impressive. Most of the furnishings were original, so it was easy to imagine me, Nancy, Tammy Faye, and Sophia as house guests of the Vanderbilts at the turn of the century. Easy for me, anyway. We were told that a month would be considered a short stay; most guests remained at the estate for several months.
The next morning Nancy and I hiked along a three or four mile path behind our campground that climbed steeply up to the mountain ridge. We want to do more of that as the trip proceeds.
Later we returned to the Biltmore and walked through its gardens, after which we drove a mile or so to a commercial complex on the estate which consisted of a hotel, restaurants, gift shops, a museum (which was showing Tiffany lamps), and the Biltmore Estate winery. The winery has a free tasting room for most of their wines, plus a premium counter for their best bottles. Our pourer at the premium counter was very familiar with Santa Cruz and in fact she and her husband have rented a house in Carmel for a month this winter. She mentioned having enjoyed going to the Bonny Doon tasting room up in the Santa Cruz mountains. We told her that a different winery - Beauregard - had taken over the tasting room. She let out a scream, which I thought was overreacting. Then I looked around, and a somewhat inebriated elderly gentleman was lying on his back on the floor, having misjudged the interface between butt and chair bottom. I sympathized; we've all been there. After being hauled to his feet, he was able to exit the premises under his own power, with all the dignity he deserved.
Biltmore Estates has some really nice wines, at very reasonable prices. We especially liked their Pinot Noir and Sangiovese. They have a French winemaker. Almost all their red wine grapes, and some of their whites, are grown in California and transported, unpressed, to North Carolina for processing. They do grow a lot of white varietals on the estate, and all their sparkling wines are locally grown. Based on limited experience, we liked the North Carolina wines better than the Virginia ones, and bought a mixed case, more red than white.
We wanted an Asheville dining experience and made reservations at the Corner Kitchen in Biltmore Village, which advertises itself as featuring innovative Southern cuisine. It's a converted residence, with a few tables in each of several rooms. We both enjoyed their great soups. I ordered pecan-crusted river trout and Nancy had a couple of pretty good appetizers. I came away convinced that you can dine very well in Asheville.
As we were leaving, we noticed pictures of Barack Obama on the restaurant wall. The owner told us that a year earlier he had gotten a call one night from the Secret Service saying that the president and first lady would be arriving in twenty minutes for dinner, for a reservation made earlier under a different name. The president was friendly and gracious. His main course was mahi-mahi with cocoanut rice; Michelle's was a pork chop with molasses sauce. They had wine with dinner and tipped generously. We Americans love stories of the rich and famous.
The next morning we left Asheville and headed toward the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Mama Gerties had turned out to be our favorite campground so far. And Asheville left us with a very favorable impression, as a place where a couple slightly past their prime could live quite comfortably if circumstances led them to that part of the world.
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