Now we have a fawning, full-blown travel article in The Washington Post: “You’re going where? Boise, Idaho.”
The writer wasn’t just floored by our quaint village. Dude got his bell rung.
“I landed in Boise seeking simplicity but left delighting in complexity,” globe-trotting freelancer John Briley proclaims. “... I kept hearing ‘outdoorsy’ and kept finding divinely artsy.”
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He discovered Boise’s “(excellent!) local craft beer, (superb!) regional wine and (sublime!) ice cream.” He biked trails in the Foothills, “missing by one weekend a revered coffee-toting mule.”
How does a mind-blown East Coast visitor contain such excitement? He does not. “Urged by the world’s friendliest security guard,” Briley writes, he hustled outside the Idaho State Capitol “to ring the giant bell beneath the front steps.”
(Local tip: You’re supposed to get your schnockered college roommate to ring the bell after the Downtown bars close. And that’s after your buddies shoved him into the fountain in front of City Hall.)
Overall, Boise couldn’t ask for a more upbeat travel article, even if the requisite potato reference arrived in the first paragraph.
But, hey, couldn’t someone have told the Post about finger steaks?
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