Denver: (Intentional) Layover Edition

Last summer, I was stranded in the round bubble of Terminal A at Reagan International, watching hail the size of golf balls fall from the sky as it lit up from the lively game of tag that thunder and lightening were having with each other. Our flight ended up leaving 5 hours late, ensuring that I'd miss my connection, and end up stranded in Denver, with a whole 24 hours between my new connection leg. Thankfully, Facebook saved the day, and an old college classmate was more than willing to take me in, and thus introduced me to an unexpected day in the Mile High city.

Fast forward a year and change later, I was given the option of a faster flight, or, a 6 hour layover in Denver for cheaper. The Anthony Bourdain in me chose the layover option, which I'm still debating if it affected everything that happened later in the story.

Denver International Airport sits around 30 minutes away from Union Station and Coors Field. Last time when I was stranded at midnight, there was no public transportation at all, let alone anything during the day. In April of 2016, the commuter train was completed, and for a mere $9 and 37 minutes, the A line takes you from the airport straight to Union Station.

Tickets can be bought at the kiosks in front of the train, $9 is an unlimited ride ticket valid for the whole day or until 02:30 am, which I am guessing is the last train anywhere? Conductors walk up and down the train asking to see the ticket, but never actually scan it on the train, so I was able to pay it forward when I returned to the airport, and passed it off to someone else.

I flew Frontier, which I was hesitant to do, because of the whole stranded fiasco from last time, but I thought, what could go wrong this time? (Story coming at the end). We got there early, and the captain quipped, " Well folks, we got in 30-40 minutes earlier than anticipated, so please remember that the next time we are 30-40 minutes late..."

I hightailed to the train (just follow the signs once you make it to baggage claim), which was straightforward and clean, and disembarked at Union Station, sweating in my DC winter coat. A perfectly brisk fall morning, quickly warmed up to 65 degrees as I walked a mile north of Union Station, to RiNo.

River North Art District was the perfect place for me to stretch my legs, stuff my face, and feast my eyes.

Those Rocky Mountains man...

I had singled out Osaka Ramen after finding them on a cheap eats list, touting their karaage, Japanese Fried Chicken. No pictures because I inhaled it all too quickly. Great complete meal at $7, just a plate of chicken and some spicy mayo. Wouldn't got back just for it, but if I was in the area, I'd check it out again.

Chatty Vacation Kathy came out to play, and after questioning the bartender for recommendations, I couldn't not follow them. A mere block away was the Denver Central Market, and something called a "meat cone..."

The colors and murals assaulted me before I could make it into the market. I'm a sucker for street art, and art in general.

The colors. The feels. Loved it. Not a creepy alley to walk behind at all.

The Denver Central Market was just around the corner. It was hard to tear myself away from the colors and the warm sun to go inside, but I did. I'll be an honest food snob here; it takes a lot to wow me nowadays, because the local, craft, hipster foodie movement is everywhere. So did this place wow me? No, it did not. It would not be my choice to fight for parking on a Sunday, but on a Monday when I've got a few hours to kill, yes, it was as nice as any. Especially because it had something called a "meat cone."

Culture Meat and Cheese, one of the stalls, had meat and cheese boards. My recent lactose intolerance made me cry a little on the inside, but I brightened up once I saw those magic words. For $6, a paper snow cone up was stuffed full of two types of salami and a piece of mortadella. The only thing that could have made it better is if the cone was meat, or edible. I'm thinking Parmesan tuile?

I picked up a Ham Hocker sandwich as well, wonderfully salty, cut with some pickled mustard seeds and a thyme/garlic butter, the perfect plane snack.

Sandwich and meat cone in hand, I went searching for a libation, and ended up at Curio, the only bar in the market. The recommendation was a Great Divide Rice Ale, a perfectly crisp beer for me, so that I wasn't bloated between flights. 

I spent much more on food that I needed to, but given the amount of money saved from choosing this flight over the other, totally evened out, and makes me want to come back to Denver.

The cherry on the top was the hour plus of baby cuddling I got to do. I think that's my biggest thing I'm missing in DC, no babies to cuddle. 

So, a wonderfully relaxing start to my vacation was abruptly halted at the baggage carousel at SFO, when I got my bag, and immediately noticed it to be soaking wet. My worst fears were realized as I immediately opened it, and found that pesky TSA notice, saying that my bag had been inspected. 

The incompetent agents had opened up my sealed bottle of rice wine, and did not put the stopped on properly, causing all the liquid to spill over my clothes, my hand made chocolates, and... my laptop.

Any more talk of this incident will only inflame me once more, and mar the otherwise pleasant memories of Denver. Plus, this will allow you to realize that my "adventures" are never smooth sailing. The universe doesn't like to make anything easy for me, but I'm not going to let that stop me from traveling.