We Went to a Reds Game With Braves Fans. The Waiter Saw It Coming.

We walked into The Alcove for brunch — me and Jamie in full Reds gear, our friends in full Braves gear — and our waiter took one look at our table and said, "Well, I hope you all have fun at the game today."

Then he pointed at us.

"And I hope you two have more fun."

Sir. We have never felt so seen and so threatened at the same time.

That moment set the tone for the whole day. Which is honestly the best thing I can say about a baseball trip — that it had a tone. That it felt like something. That by the time we walked into Great American Ball Park that evening, we were already having the kind of day you tell people about later.

The Reds still lost, for the record.

But we had a really good time getting there.

How We Did Cincinnati

This is the part where I tell you that Cincinnati is a full city with great food and a beautiful riverfront and you should stop flying past it on your way somewhere else.

We started at The Alcove for brunch, and it was exactly what a pre-game brunch should be — pretty, relaxed, the kind of place where you linger a little longer than you planned because the atmosphere earns it. There are better ways to start a game day. I haven't found them.

(This is also where the waiter incident happened, and I will be telling that story forever.)

From there we made our way to Sam Adams Brewery for drinks — because if you're going to spend an afternoon with people rooting for the wrong team, you might as well do it with a beer in hand. Good call on our part.

Then dinner at Cincinnati Lager House, which had a full dining room and a view of the Ohio River that genuinely stopped conversation for a second when we sat down. Busy the way a good restaurant is busy — alive, not chaotic. And if you go, look for the base plaque by the host stand. It's one of those details that reminds you the whole city is in on this.

View from rooftop of Cincinnati Lager House

The Game

Great American Ball Park is one of the most underrated stadiums in baseball. I will say this every time until people believe me.

The Reds lost. Our friends were delighted. Jamie and I were dignified about it, mostly.

What I will say is this: there is something genuinely fun about watching a game with people who are rooting against your team — as long as those people are people you actually like. The banter is better. The stakes feel lighter. You stop watching the scoreboard so much and start watching everything else.

The river. The skyline. The very serious man somewhere nearby who definitely had a scoring notebook.

That's the trip.

The Comeback That Mattered

Here is the part I need the Braves fans to read carefully.

The Reds won the next day.

Not swept. We were not swept. Whatever hopes our friends had of a clean series sweep evaporated, and Jamie and I were completely gracious about it.

We said nothing.

(This blog post is the only thing we're saying.)

Great American Ballpark. View from section 528.

Why This Kind of Trip Works

I started the Baseball City Trip series because I believe the game is the excuse, not the destination.

The destination is brunch with a waiter who takes one look at your table and already knows how your day is going to go. It's drinks at a brewery with people you don't get to see enough. It's a river view at dinner and a base plaque that makes you smile before you even sit down.

The Reds may break your heart. The city won't.

Want to Plan Your Own Cincinnati Trip?

I've got a full guide — where to stay, how to build the day, what to do beyond the game.

👉How to Plan a Cincinnati Reds Weekend Trip

And if you want something to take with you — a planner built specifically for baseball travel, with space for every city you visit — I made that too.

👉 The Away Game Planner — $14.99

👉 Join the interest list for future Reds road trips

The waiter at The Alcove was right. I hope you have more fun.

Tracy is a travel agent and the founder of Harmony Horizon 360, a travel brand built around slower, more intentional trips for real people. She grew up in Cincinnati and has feelings about the Reds that she considers completely reasonable.

What Alaska Did to My Sense of Time (And Why I Keep Thinking About It) 💛

I ordered reindeer sausage from a café in Alaska because the sign on the door told me to.

Not literally. But it was RIGHT THERE, and I am not the kind of person who walks past reindeer sausage and does nothing about it. That is not how I travel. That is not how I live.

It was amazing, for the record. Slightly smoky, a little sweet. I think about it more than I should.

That moment — seeing something unexpected and just going for it — is kind of the whole story of Alaska for me. I went in knowing it would be beautiful. I did not expect it to be the kind of beautiful that makes you go quiet without meaning to. The kind that makes you put your phone down not because you remembered to, but because you forgot it was there.

I kept waiting for a lull. You know that feeling on a trip where you've done the big thing and now you're just killing time until dinner? I kept bracing for it. It never came.

The wildlife showed up like it had somewhere to be and was just passing through — which, it turns out, it was. The history was layered and surprising and kept making me want to ask more questions. The people we met, both locals and the folks we cruised with, were the kind that make you think why don't I know more people like this at home? And the scenery kept delivering in a way that felt almost unfair. Like Alaska knew exactly what it was doing and had absolutely zero humility about it.

In Juneau, we had one of the best excursions of the whole trip — the kind that hits every note without you being able to explain exactly why afterward. (If you want the full breakdown of our favorite stops, I wrote about those here.) And then, the moment the excursion ended, the sky opened up. Not a sprinkle. A full, dramatic, Alaska-is-done-with-you-now downpour. We made it back to the ship. Others from different excursions weren't so lucky — the storm came in fast and not everyone got back before it got serious.

We stood on deck watching the rain and I thought: we timed that perfectly and it had absolutely nothing to do with us.

That's travel. You plan everything you can and then you stand back and let the weather decide the ending. Alaska is very comfortable making that call for you.

I talk a lot about intentional travel — slower pacing, breathing room, trips that actually feel good instead of just looking good. Alaska didn't require me to try for any of that. It just was that. There was nowhere to rush to. No FOMO. The place itself had this quality where the urgency I carry around at home simply didn't make the trip with me. I've written before about why travel isn't our escape — it's how we maintain our marriage and Alaska was the clearest example of that I've ever had.

I came back slightly more patient. Slightly more willing to look at something without immediately thinking about what comes next. I noticed when it started to fade — that slow exhale that Alaska gives you — which is how I knew it had been real.

I'm in the early stages of putting together a small hosted group cruise to Alaska for 2027 — because I want to bring people there who need exactly what I got. Not the reindeer sausage specifically. (Although truly, do not rule it out.) But that feeling of being somewhere so genuinely big that your regular-life problems shrink down to a manageable size. Where you can't rush the glacier. Where the wildlife is on nobody's schedule but its own.

If you've ever thought Alaska someday — I want to hear from you. Because someday is a lot better when you're not going alone.

Want to be first to know when spots open up? Reset and Roam interest list. I'll reach out personally when we're ready.

How to Plan a Cruise Itinerary That Actually Feels Good

Plan once — enjoy your cruise without second-guessing.

There was a time when I planned cruises in layers.

First the ports.
Then the excursions.
Then, weeks later, the packing.

And somewhere between “Glacier Bay day” and “formal night,” I would realize my shoes didn’t match my plans. Or my plans didn’t match my energy. Or my outfits didn’t match either.

That’s when I started planning differently.

Not more.

Just together.

✨ The Problem With Planning in Pieces

Most people plan cruises like this:

• Pick the itinerary
• Choose excursions
• Later… figure out outfits
• On the ship… second-guess everything

It’s not that anything is wrong.

It just feels slightly disconnected.

You’re in a gorgeous port, but you didn’t pack the shoes that make it comfortable.
You booked a walking tour, but your dress choice says “sit quietly at dinner.”
You overpack because you’re unsure.

And uncertainty steals energy.

🧭 What Changed for Me

When Jamie and I started planning our ports and our outfits at the same time, something shifted.

If we booked a long walking day?
Comfortable, breathable layers.

If we planned a casual dock town?
Easy sandals. Crossbody bag. Sun protection.

If formal night fell after an excursion?
Something that still worked if we were a little tired.

Instead of planning in fragments, we built one cohesive flow.

And the cruise felt lighter.

🌊 A Gentle Cruise Planning Framework

Here’s the rhythm that works for us:

1️⃣ Start With Energy, Not Just Excursions

Before booking anything, ask:
How do we want this port to feel?

Relaxed?
Exploratory?
Photogenic?
Food-focused?

That guides everything.

2️⃣ Map the Port to the Outfit

If the excursion involves:

• Lots of walking → supportive shoes + breathable fabrics
• Boat rides → layers + wind-friendly hair plan
• Markets + photos → hands-free bag
• Formal dinner → consider what you’ll realistically feel like wearing

Now your suitcase has purpose.

3️⃣ Reduce “Backup” Packing

When your itinerary and wardrobe align, you don’t need five “just in case” outfits.

You pack with confidence.

And confidence weighs less. 🧳

💛 Why This Matters More Than It Sounds

Cruise days are full. Even relaxing ones.

The fewer tiny decisions you have to make on board, the more present you are.

You’re not standing in the cabin thinking,
“Did I pack the right thing?”

You’re standing on deck thinking,
“This is exactly what today needed.”

That’s the difference.

🌴 Our April Cruise

For our upcoming cruise (which I’ll be blogging in detail soon), I’m building itinerary pages and style pages side by side.

Not because it’s fancy.

Because it feels calm.

And calm travel is my favorite kind.

💬 I’m Curious

When you travel, do you:

A. Plan activities first, then pack later?
B. Plan outfits first, then fit activities around them?
C. Or do you map them together?

Tell me in the comments. I love seeing how different brains plan.

💛 If you enjoy thoughtful travel and connection-first trips, join the newsletter here.