Miriam Carey is the editor of Long Weekends Magazine and the publication chair for the International Food, Wine & Travel Writers Association. She has written about food, travel, and other subjects for the Plain Dealer, Ohio Magazine, Cleveland Magazine, Northern Ohio Live, Fodor’s Travel Guides, and Men’s Edge magazine. She also contributed to Zagat’s America’s Best 2005.
Introduction
My friends don’t know about it. Neither does my family. It’s something I try to keep under wraps as best I can, and hope that no one will notice. If they found out, it might damage my reputation.
I can’t have everyone in town knowing that I’m a hopeless romantic.
When I decided to write this book, my friends laughed. "You? Miriam? A book about romantic places to go?" I guess that my track record with dates and boyfriends—a frighteningly long losing streak of wanna-be’s and ne’er-do-wells—makes them think that I’m not the most qualified person to pontificate on the many hidden romantic treasures of Cleveland. But they’re wrong.
For the last two years I’ve been annoying people with invasive questions. At a wedding, I’d throw out to the table, "Do you believe in true love?" At a bar with friends, I’d query, "Where do you think Cleveland’s romantic epicenter is?" Over drinks with a new friend I’d prod, "Do you remember where you were the very last time you felt the beginnings of true romantic love?" Most of the time they answered honestly. Sometimes, they’d blush. But always—after the conversation had died down—I’d catch them drifting off in a romantic revery.
I live in a secret world, drifting through downtown daydreaming about my fantasy Cleveland. There, the Avenue is still the Terminal Tower, and I’m a lady in a silk suit with a matching hat, handbag, shoes, and gloves waving good-bye to my true love as he boards the train to serve in WWII. On my jaunt down Euclid Avenue there is always a gentleman under the arch of the Arcade peering eagerly toward Public Square anticipating my arrival, tipping his felt hat and rearranging the folds of his trench coat. And when I travel to the country, I know I’ll be treated to a hayride through an apple orchard so pungent with the scent of fall that I’ll have no choice but to slide into the arms of the tall, dark, and handsome fellow next to me for a long, warm kiss.
But this is the real world, and these are modern times. So I set out to write this book knowing I could uncover some of Cleveland’s hidden treasures and share them with other hopeless romantics like myself. Together, I thought, we could share the bustle of Public Square, the glory of the blooming countryside, and the endless charms that await us in the little nooks and crannies of this town of ours. I envision a city full of happy couples walking hand in hand down the city streets, their hearts filled with love, copies of Fifty-two Romantic Outings in Greater Cleveland tucked under their arms for reference.
Yes, this is the Cleveland of my dreams. A town so full of love that its borders can barely contain it. The shores of Lake Erie teaming with lip-locked lovers at sunset, the country roads just outside of town bursting with picnickers on their way to little hideaways for a Saturday afternoon.
In each chapter, you’ll find an itinerary for an outing or date in greater Cleveland. Some outings are simple, others are more complicated. Some require a big budget, others little more than the cost of a few gallons of gas. Use the book as you like. Choose a different chapter every week for an entire year, and you’ll have something new to do each week, or refer to the book periodically for an idea, or an answer to that gnawing question: "What’s something we can do that’s different?" Parachuting over the farmlands of Northeast Ohio might be just the cure for that dinner-and-a-movie rut you’re in.
My friends, ever the smart alecks, point out that even after spending two years researching and writing on the topic of romance, I still haven’t found any for myself. They’re wrong again. True romance isn’t to be found in a mate, or even a place. It’s in your heart. And what you make of it is up to you.
