Well, at least that’s what the Village of Lewiston claims. But, it’s not my purpose to prove or disprove such municipal boasting.
I traveled north from South Buffalo on the I-190 to Lewiston, on a perfect summer’s day, to experience a two or three hour “vacation” in a tourist town (as you can tell, my demands these days are quite modest). And, I succeeded.
Here are some photos from that “historic square mile.” I’ll insert a few informative signs in the P.S., for the historically curious readers, so as not to disrupt the flow of the images.
I started my leisurely stroll on the village’s main thoroughfare, Center Street, in what is aptly named the “opera hall district”:
If I hadn’t just begun my walk, I might have sat down on an inviting bench near an attractive outdoor eatery:
But I continued a short distance and noticed a spot – apparently created in 2012 to commemorate the 200th anniversary of the War of 1812 – that I had never noticed before, the Bicentennial Peace Garden:
I got the impression that the pensive (confused?) figure above is wondering how the powers-that-be allowed the following “work of art” to be visible from the quietude of the peace garden:
The Peace Garden is tucked behind one of the oldest structures in Lewiston, the Little Yellow House, standing proud(ly) since 1816:
While the next picture breaks my promise to keep photos of informative signs until the end of this array, I must say that nothing says more about a chamber-of-commerce campaign to resonate “historic” than adding an unnecessary consonant to the end of a word:
Here’s the controversial Frontier House, once, shockingly, the home of a McDonald’s restaurant, and now vacant:
I took a detour off the main street to get a glimpse of the Lewiston Village Hall (and, somehow, never thought about taking a photo or two). I then headed away from the “urban” setting and walked down a steep hill to get a glimpse of the Niagara River and water’s edge:
I wasn’t certain whether these stairs were meant for the public, so I just took a couple photos from above:
Of course, no touristy waterfront would be complete without a popular eatery, The Silo, and a caboose-turned-ice-cream-stand (note: I was “bearly” able to control my urge for an ice cream cone):
Geography being what it is, my return to the historic village entailed a walk back up a steep hill. By the time I reached the summit, I was no longer in a mood for dawdling. I am feeling in a similar frame of mind as I find myself running out of steam composing this post, so here are several photos left to speak for themselves:
[Please, you feline lovers out there, don’t hate me for proclaiming: I will never, voluntarily, have coffee and dessert at an establishment with the above name.]
With All Due Respect (for the most historic square mile in America),
Art Giacalone
P.S. Here are a few of those informative signs I promised the curious among you: