On the Banks of the Oh-hi-oh!

Cincinnati is a city that is hard to pin down. Not exactly Southern, kind of Midwestern. An eclectic town that somehow successfully combines Grand Opera and chili that has spaghetti in it. We are lodged in the funky Mt. Adams neighborhood built atop a hill that is a geologic anomaly in this otherwise flat part of the county. It feels just a little like San Francisco.

The city is perched along the Ohio River, on the other side of which is Mitch McConnell. Shared use paths wind along the riverbanks and reach out into the suburbs and off toward Cleveland. There are foot bridges over the river and Ohioans trot across to pick up cheap booze and tobacco in Kentucky. One such is the John A. Roebling Suspension Bridge named for its designer who also planned the more famous Brooklyn Bridge. It looks a lot like, well, the Brooklyn Bridge.

We drove out here last Tuesday, a long but doable day drive from the DC area, to see my sister and her husband. They live downtown in a loft that is a converted horse barn. Downtown Cincinnati looks a like a tiny New York City might look without skyscrapers and without any building built after 1975. In fact, this town sometimes serves as a filming location for movies set in the 1940s. It has that kind of vibe. Kroger’s supermarket is headquartered here as is Proctor and Gamble. It’s the kind of place it would probably never occur to you to move to or even visit but if you somehow ended up here, it seems like it would be a pretty nice place to live.

Like many small cities somewhat past their economic prime (Rochester, Pittsburgh) it’s easy to do things like go to the theater or pop into an art museum without having to fight with crowds or worry about where to park. When it’s time to go, home is never more than 15 minutes away. There is even a modern looking streetcar to whisk you about downtown. My sister’s place is walking distance to a grocery store (Kroger’s naturally) and the Public Library and the famous Findley Market, Ohio’s oldest continually operated public market.

I have gone out walking every morning in Eden Park which is adjacent to the Mt. Adams where our AirBnB is. Eden a huge open space in the spirit of Central Park. Old structures that look like something designed by the Civilian Conservation Corp in the 1920s grace the hilltops, and there are stunning views of the river and the city. During my morning walks the park has been nearly empty aside from the odd person doing tai chi and some men in overalls blowing organic matter about with large power tools. On the north side of the park are quiet neighborhoods with apartments overlooking the park and single-family homes.

A legacy of its German heritage is Cincinnati’s staggering number of breweries and brew pubs. I am not sure if every drop is brewed according to Reinheitsgebot, the German Purity Law of 1516, which stipulates that beer can only contain water, malted barley, hops, and yeast, but it would be a fun project to investigate. (What do you say, Mr. Land?) A year-long sabbatical might allow enough time to make a good start. Keep in mind that Kentucky’s bourbon county is not far so do pace yourself. Or perhaps that is yet another sabbatical.

In addition to the amenities mentioned above, the downtown also offers a fine hat shop, a fountain pen store, and an old-style tobacconist. Their continued operation is a testament that the old ways can survive if and when conditions are right.

When we head home on Sunday, I feel we will have barely scratched the surface of what there is to do and see in this compact city that somehow manages to punch above its weight. It’s a little bit San Fran, a wee bit New York with maybe a dribble of Berlin thrown in for good measure. But for all that, it’s not a destination that is found on many a bucket list.

Maybe that’s for the best.