(There’s no point trying to put this this on a rational timeline, but this was about a week ago.)
It’s got cheese; it’s got beer; it’s got heavy industry; it’s got a haunting brass statue of the Fonz; It’s Milwaukee and I rather like it.
Backing up a bit, we came in to Wisconsin (after our stint in South Dakota and a wave at Minnesota on the way through) at about 1am because someone had to take a hundred mile diversion to look at a Laura Ingalls Wilder/Little House on the Prairie museum or something. She’ll tell you all about it in due course, no doubt. I phoned up the motel where we were staying in Trempealeau to tell him that we’d be rocking up at dark o’clock, and the guy said he’d leave a room unlocked with the key inside, which was awfully decent since we’d not paid him yet. Wi-Fi was shocking, mind. Someone call Amnesty.
This is still 200 miles short of Milwaukee, so the following morning we got up and had breakfast at a local diner recommended by a Brit ex-pat we met in the street (they talk to people in the street here), who called after us “They even do a full English!”.
They really don’t.
I’ve seen a full English: at no point are you asked about the manner of its preparation; the sausages have tubes around them and there is always unnecessary pig’s blood in attendance.
Anyhow, we made our way to Milwaukee by way of La Crosse, chiefly because it has the world’s largest six-pack of beer.
But we also had a stroll around the rather nice Capitol ( sic) building in Madison and learned something about local politics:
Apparently out-of-towners own the place, they all have some manner of social disorder and this makes baby Jesus cry. So there you go.
So we ended up in Milwaukee, and immediately fell foul of the improvement works they are apparently performing on all their major link roads simultaneously because that’s the last thing the enemy would expect. So we got to see all that Milwaukee had to offer as we sailed right past it and out the other side.
We fought our way back in via the suburbs and decamped at our hotel. We got some pointers from the guy on the front desk and set about seeking refreshment. I need to discuss the excellent state of American and Canadian local beers at some point, but here they have pedigree. The barman bought me my pint as a welcome to the city. Stout fellow.
The following day we attended the Wisconsin state fair and encountered many foodstuffs on sticks.
Cherry pie on a stick.
Cookie dough dipped in chocolate fondue on a stick with rainbow sprinkles. Stop asking questions and roll with it.
Assorted cardiac emergencies and general weirdness
The big thing at the fair is the cream puffs. We knew nothing of these delicacies other than I could pre-book a dozen for a discount. I’ve subsequently learned that >350,000 are consumed each fair (35,000 the day we were there, or 50-60 per minute), and that eating one makes you look like your parents were cousins. The Minuteman Monument cap helps though.
It’s a choux bun, by the way, but without chocolate. It was alright. Make a fuss out of anything, this lot.
Here’s the Fonz, screaming silently:
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“Ayyyyyyyyyyy…destroythiswretchedprison”
Kurzfassung auf Deutsch: Wir haben die Bronzenstatue von der Fonz gesehen und ich habe es traurig gefunden. Wir haben Windbeutel in den Wisconsin Jahrmarkt gegessen.