What makes Pleasureville sights so special is the way history can breathe here not only in dusty plaques, but in every narrow alley. I remember the first steps through the old town hall, which was laid in 1840 as a foundation for today's township – a painting of bricks that reflects the spirit of the pioneers who recaptured the country by the Cherokee tribes around 1790. If you ask yourself why the little town in the heart of Shelby County still looks a bit like a forgotten chapter, you should just go along Highway 60; the exit is barely overlooked because it is crowned with the word “Pleasureville”, which sounds more like irony than advertising.
Once arrived, you can immediately feel that the inhabitants have a self-contained relationship to their heritage – they celebrate the annual “Founders’ Day” with a grill where the sausages taste almost as old as the city itself. I don't understand the hype around modern cafés, but the little diner on Main Street, which has served the same milk shakes since the 50s, is really great and a perfect place to inhale the local flair.
When you arrive by train, get off in Louisville and take the bus to Shelbyville; from there a short taxi ride, and you are in the middle of the happening. And yes, the weather here can suddenly change from radiant to pressing, but this is precisely the salt in the soup – a bit of cynicism, a bit of romance, and every day feels like a new section in a never completely completed novel.
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The first stop I put to every visitor is that Kentucky Horse Park in Lexington – a bit too much shine for my rather sober preference, but the horses are simply just super. I spent a few hours there while a little boy tried to stroke the horse that was just a trampoline for the show horse; that was a picture for the gods. Parking is almost always a Klacks on the main parking lot, only Saturdays it becomes a bit chaotic, because then the whole family arrives from Ohio.
A few miles further, towards Harrodsburg, this is Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill. I do not quite understand the hype about the “quite way of life”, but the museum and the original preserved huts have something calming that reminds me of my childhood when I played hiding in the garden of my grandparents. The entrance is free if you only want to visit the grounds, and parking is right next to the visitor center – a short walk through the field that is covered by sunflowers in the summer.
If you are already on the topic of history, you can Abraham Lincoln Birthplace National Historical Park in Hodgenville do not leave. I made a picnic there while a guide told about Lincoln's childhood; The story is good, but the real highlight was the small museum where an old wooden chair was supposed to be used by Lincoln's father. The parking lot is small, so better be there early, otherwise you have to run a few minutes around the block.
A short trip to Union leads to Big Bone Lick State Historic Sitewhere you can actually see huge mammoth bones – yes, that's real. I was there on a rainy afternoon and warmed up in the covered areas with a hot coffee while I told the children that these bones came from huge cattle over 10,000 years ago. Parking is an open field, so simply pushing in, but in summer it can be full because the school organizes an excursion here.
For nature lovers Raven Run Nature Sanctuary A must. I ran a long trail there, which suddenly opens into a small brook, watching a squirrel bravely plucked a nut from my shoe – no joke, the animal was three. The entrance is free, parking is at the edge of the entrance, and you should plan a few hours because the paths are slightly angled.
A short jump to Versailles brings you to Woodford Reserve Distillery. I was there for a tour that told more about the art of burning when I ever thought necessary, but the final result – a glass of velvety whisky – was the reward. Parking is right in front of the building, but on weekends there is a queue, so better take a taxi if you don't want to be in traffic.
Back in Lexington, the Mary Todd Lincoln House offers a look into the life of the First Lady, which is often overlooked. I have made a lead there, while an older gentleman from Ohio was loudly silent about the “good old time”; I had to hold back not to laugh because the facility was so authentic that you almost heard the rustling of silk curtains. Parking is on the street, but the places are limited, so a little patience is necessary.
To conclude, a detour into the Lexington Distillery Districtwhere several small distilleries and bars come together. I spent an evening where I stabbed from one bar to the next, while I tried to explain the differences between Bourbon and Rye – an undertaking that was more likely to end up in chaos because the bartenders prefer to chat about their favorite cocktails. Parking is in an underground garage at the end of the road, which is usually free except when a festival takes place.
Whether you’re looking for horses, history, nature or a good glass of whiskey – Pleasureville’s surroundings offer a colourful mix that appeals to every modern traveler. This selection Pleasureville Sights shows that you don't have to drive to the city itself to have an unforgettable experience.
The history of Pleasureville begins long before the first highway sign I have ever overlooked, and I feel that every stone here holds a little secret. When you enter the old town hall – a red brick building on Main Street, which has more graffiti than visitors – you immediately feel that the city has more to offer than what is visible at first glance. I once tried to open the archive there, only to establish that the door was tightly closed by a bored master of the house; a real indication that some stories prefer to remain in the dark.
A short walk further leads you to Pleasureville City. I admit I was skeptical because “Park” in Kentucky often means only a piece of lawn, but here there is actually a small lake, a few well-preserved baseball diamonds and a playground that makes more noise than a kindergarten. Parking is usually easy, except on Saturday night, there will be a real problem because then the whole city comes together to grill. I once made a picnic with a friend, and we were overwhelmed by a group of teenagers with loud country music – an experience I don't forget so quickly.
If you're looking for a place where you can feel like a local, go to Public library of Pleasureville. The library is small, but the staff knows anyone who has ever borrowed a book, and they have an amazingly well-sorted collection of local history books. I found an old photo album that shows the city in 1920 – a real look into the past that reminds me that more has happened here than you suspect at first sight.
Another highlight I don't want to conceal is that old school building, which now serves as a community center. The walls are still covered with the faded prints of the 1950s, and the roof snores at every wind blow. I once took part in a yoga course, and while I tried to keep my balance, I heard in the background the distant laugh of children playing in the adjoining courtyard. This is for me the true heart of Pleasureville – a place where the past and present are handy.
Of course you can Freedom Festival do not forget that takes place every year in July. I was there for the first time and thought it was just another small town festival, but the crowd, the live band, the fireworks – all of this almost convinced me that I could stay here. The stands sell homemade jam and self-fired whiskey, and I must admit that I don't understand the hype around the local whiskey, but the jam is really great.
A short detour to Pleasureville Cemetery may sound macaber, but for me it is a quiet place where the history of the city is written in engraved stones. I found the tomb of my great-grandfather who was buried here in 1912, and that gave me a strange feeling of bondage – almost as if the city would welcome me personally.
If you now think that this is too much, let me tell you that the Pleasureville Sights not only consist of buildings, but of the people who live here. I had a conversation with the owner of the only diner in the city, a former racer, which fluctuated between engine noise and pancake. He told me that he only opened the store because he didn't want to leave the city – a perfect example of why I always come back here, despite all the small macks.
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