The sun is warm on our faces as we sit in third row seats along the first base line at Dozer Field. We eat jumbo hot dogs drenched in tangy yellow mustard and wash them down with cold beer. We’re watching the Peoria Chiefs take on the Quad Cities River Bandits in a minor league baseball game. Later, as we stand for the seventh inning stretch, the team mascot, a dalmatian named Homer, leads us in singing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” This is the quintessential all-American summer afternoon.
The Mark Twain Hotel in Peoria, Illinois, was the first boutique hotel I ever stayed in. Boutique hotel. The term itself conjured up images of upscale décor and pampering amenities. I looked forward to our visit with excited anticipation. The experience was even better than I expected. The chic décor blends rich boldness with warm elegance, and the service is impeccable.