In the late 1800s, George Vanderbilt had no idea what to do with the gazillions of dollars that his family had accrued in the shipping and railroad businesses. So, he decided to build a small chateau on a hill outside Asheville. I say "small" as I compare it to the size of the moon. The house has 175,000 square feet of livable floor space under its roof and is the largest privately held house in the United States. (To put the size in perspective, 175,000 square feet is a little over four and a quarter acres. You could run a small farm inside the house, but I don't know who you could get to clean it.)

Barbara and I went on a self-guided tour, carrying electronic devices that talked to us and told us all about each room. The day, outside, was fairly warm, at about 85 degrees. Inside, the temperature was about 451 degrees. At one point, my brochure spontaneously ignited. Fortunately, I was sweating enough that it put the fire out.

We both decided that we needed something to drink (and a cookie), so we flagged down a person who works there and had her take us out. We got outside, and I think Barbara actually smelled the chocolate chip cookies in the store about 100 yards away. I tried to keep up, but she was too fast for me. I finally accepted my fate and called to her, “You go on! Save yourself! Eat a cookie for me!”

She suddenly turned around and came back and got me and helped me to the cookie store. I was very grateful, but then I realized that I had the money. As we recuperated from the heat and ate our cookies, we saw, across the courtyard, an ice cream store.

So we had ice cream.

We also explored Biltmore Village and Antler Village, both having stores where you can spend a lot of money and carry something back to the car, as opposed to the tour of the Biltmore House where you can spend a lot of money and get heat stroke.

Oh, I forgot to tell you, we had lunch in a small restaurant in Biltmore Village. I found out that President Obama has eaten there. I ate there anyway.