“Ahhh, no!” Tony folded his arms. “The French are snooty.”
I was sitting in front of my laptop with the Airbnb website open trying to figure out our next trip. “And besides,” he continued, “their food Is weird! They eat snails.” France itself was far away, but we had run across an intriguing lake in Michigan with a French name.
“Have you tried snails?” I pressed, typing in the word Charlevoix several times before getting the correct spelling.
“Have YOU tried snails?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Well, no,” I admitted. “But there’s a cheap Airbnb WITH a hot tub.” I clicked the laptop decisively. Last minute weekend trip booked.
Cafe Sante, Boyne City, Mich.
After a charming five-hour drive up the Michigan peninsula, we arrived at the tail of Lake Charlevoix on a September Saturday afternoon. Brilliant red leaves already dotted the green of the trees this far north. We had a half-hour wait for a table, so we walked the long slope of sidewalk around the bay watching sailboats catch the wind. A pair of frustrated fishermen wearing waders watched as salmon jumped here and there around them. They could see the silverfish darting through the water like slanting sunbeams.
We entered the lively dining room and asked the Café Sante server to advise us on the French menu. She chuckled, “Well, everything is amazing, but don’t miss the escargot en croute.”
Tony’s eyebrows raised. “You mean snails?” She smiled. “Fine. We’ll share some es-car-go and a caprese pizza.”
We admired the local art for a few minutes until this little white dish arrived with a golden pastry topping and two spoons. I cracked the flaky top, and steam rose. “Hmm.” I squinted inside at what appeared to be a pool of butter filled with mushrooms and shrimp-looking things. “That’s a lot of butter.” Tony took a bite. I took a bite. “Oh my.”
Tony was frowning. “I wouldn’t have believed it. But that’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.” It was liquid sunshine. We ended the meal with some variety of French wine the waitress recommended and a spectacular dark chocolate mousse. We staggered out the door.
Tip: Always ask your Café Sante server for their favorites on the menu. Pairing the right things together can make a huge difference in the experience.
2. Ironton Ferry
There was no way we were walking after that meal, so we drove around the south side of Lake Charlevoix to the Ironton Ferry. Sure, there’s a more traditional road, but this route cut miles off going around one of the lake fingers. The highway ended at a dock with a line of cars. We waited our turn and drove onto the ferry to the thrum of the engine. During the five-minute ferry ride, we watched flags whipping on the other shore and a retired man on a bicycle who leaned against the ropes holding his helmet and smiling. Totally worth the ferry price.
Tip: Have $2.00 cash ready for this trip.
Mushroom Houses
It would take hours to drive all the way around Lake Charlevoix, and it would be worth the trip, but after the ferry, be sure to full-stop in Charlevoix itself on the western shore. While you’re there, stop and view (or spend the night at) one of the 26 thatched-roof mushroom houses (or hobbit houses) built by an eccentric five-foot-tall builder named Earl Young in the 1920s. Earl constructed the houses of fieldstone and boulders and self-taught ingenuity. You can find a map for a car tour here, or find a place to park and walk down Park Avenue.
Tip: Bring a swimsuit and climb down one of the paths like the one at the corner of Park and Antrim Streets to walk on the beach and take a free dip or pick up a handful of round, beach-washed stones for souvenirs.
“Want to drive back to Café Sante?” asked Tony.
WHAT WE WANT TO GO BACK FOR: The Charlevoix Venetian Festival July 16-23 with a boat parade, fireworks, and sidewalk markets.
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