through the window. “They’re as-tonishing, because they look justlike real fruit.” She told me she hadtried his lemon creation, and thatit was “one of the most deliciousthings” she’d ever tasted. “But youhave to arrive early,” she warned,as we headed toward the TuileriesGarden, “because when they sellout, they close.”

Two days later, I was first in linewhen the boutique opened at

PARIS CONTINUED ON F5

“and this place is ground zero. Itopened in March.” We observedthe uniformed doorman admit-ting customers, one by one, intothe narrow, laboratory-like sanc-tum. There was no display case.Instead, as in a fine jewelry store,the goods were stored on traysunder the counter, from whencethe white-coated staff producedeach order.

“Grolet is famous for his fruitpastries,” Agnès said as we peered

house!” — Agnès exclaimed whenwe noticed a throng of gourmandsoutside of Cédric Grolet’s new pas-try boutique. We were just aroundthe corner from Le Meurice, thehistoric hotel where I once spottedactress Catherine Deneuve in thepowder room and where Grolet,33, is the award-winning head pastry chef at the Michelin two-star restaurant.

“Parisians have gone crazy overpatisseries,” Agnès continued,

macaron) and son (coffee eclair)who share my passion, I thought Ihad pretty much covered the gam-ut of French pastries.

Until this past April, that is,when on a Sunday afternoon strollwith an old friend down the Ruede Rivoli, near the Louvre, I real-ized my guilty pleasure hademerged from the shadows and,seemingly, been embraced by letout Paris.

“C’est la folie” — “It’s a mad-

BY CEIL MILLER BOUCHETSpecial to The Washington Post

Blame it on the religieuse pas-try, two stacked, chocolate cream-filled puffs that sent me to patis-serie nirvana the first week of mylong-ago junior year in Paris.When you’re used to Twinkies,that kind of experience is, indeed,a revelation. After marrying alemon-tart-loving Frenchmanand producing a daughter (vanilla

KLMNO

Travel SUNDAY, AUGUST 19, 2018 . SECTION F EZ EE

NAVIGATOR

What you can — and can’t — take from your hotel room. F2

NEW HAMPSHIRE

Huttopia brings Euro-style camping to the White Mountains. F4

NORTHERN IRELAND

On this Belfast tour, youcan read the painting on the wall. F6

BY MELANIE D.G. KAPLANSpecial to The Washington Post

quick to credit their forebears — the Scandina-vian settlers who depended on each other toraise barns, harvest crops and recover fromfloods. That same work ethic, dynamism andcommunity support help a new generation ofmakers, entrepreneurs and artists who dreambig and often succeed. The long, frigid wintersseem to only bolster Fargoans’ industrious-ness and sense of humor.

When I showed up in June, I ran into afriend before we’d even had a chance to makeplans — downtown’s that small. That after-noon, I heard that drivers get a friendlywritten warning before their first parkingticket — locals are that nice. When you go, chatthem up. See the woodchipper at the visitorscenter if you must. Then, get to know the realFargo.

FARGO CONTINUED ON F3

YOU’RE GOING WHERE?

FargoA Scandinavian sense ties together

a North Dakota community and a city with a lot more to see than snow — and that woodchipper

PHOTOS BY JENN ACKERMAN FOR THE WASHINGTON POST

Forget “Fargo.”Don’t get me wrong — I loved the Coen

brothers’ dark crime comedy. But 22 yearslater, if you’re still thinking only about themovie when you hear that word, it’s time torewire your brain. I’m here to tell you that thisNorth Dakota city is not a godforsaken frozenwasteland of woodchippers. Fargo’s a slice ofOz on the eastern edge of the Great Plains —quirky, colorful and full of surprises: a Scandi-navian-Jewish lunch counter; a gay men’schorus; a thriving immigrant community; awinter “Frostival” with a mobile sauna; anartsy boutique hotel; Microsoft’s third-largestcampus; and a championship football team.

More than that, it’s the people of Fargo andMoorhead, Minn., its sister city across theriver, who have drawn me back multiple times.They all seem to share a remarkable can-doattitude and collaborative energy. Locals are

Crème de la crème: A revelatory tour of the top Paris patisseries

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: A sunflower field in Mapleton, just west of Fargo, N.D.; the Iceland bagel plate at BernBaum’s in downtown Fargo; sales associate Kara Lee and customer Sean Dolan at Others; illustrative street art on a train car.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 19, 2018 . THE WASHINGTON POST EZ EE F3

I had to smile when I walked into Brett Bernath’s Madhaus, which has largely been taken over by the fabulous lunch counter run by his wife, Andrea Baumgardner. She started making bagels in a corner of the furniture shop in 2016, and soon, BernBaum’s eclipsed the Madhaus; much of Bernath’s furni-ture (such as the pink fiberglass, boomerang-shaped, bowling-alley bench from the 1950s) has become restaurant seating. The Scandina-vian-German and Jewish fare, re-flecting the proprietors’ heritages, includes potato latkes, knishes with mustard crème fraîche, cheese blintzes with lingonberry sauce, chicken matzo ball soup andbrisket with ramps schmear and pickled rhubarb. You’ll probably see Baumgardner, who trained at Chez Panisse, cooking on her 1948 four-burner stove below the “Sha-lom” sign. Don’t miss her occasion-al themed dinners, which sell out quickly.

The owners of Wild Terra Ci-der and Brewing acknowledgethe complete lack of commercialapple orchards in North Dakota.But that didn’t stop them fromopening Fargo’s first cidery inDecember, and I’m thankful forthat. Most of Wild Terra’s dozenofferings, which change daily, arefrom the Pacific Northwest orMichigan. But it does craft someof its own ciders — including theblueberry and banana Stargazer,with apples from small localgrowers. The cidery is in a beauti-fully restored, century-old horsestable. The menu, all vegetarian,includes treats such as a Buddhabowl with microgreens and Brus-sels sprouts with “bacon” fromthe Herbivorous Butcher in Min-neapolis. Locals gather for ’80smovies upstairs on old-school so-fas; a mustard-colored velvet onehas national parks patches. Thenew co-op is next door.

Guidebook mustsAt Rustica Eatery & Tavern,

just across the Main Avenue bridge in Moorhead, dinner iscomfortable and neighborhoody.The more casual, seat-yourselftavern has a wood-burning pizzaoven and copper beer taps, andthe eatery, where I found a spot atthe bar, has exposed brick walls,indistinct jazz playing in the back-ground and a relaxed, classy vibe.Not surprising for this part of thecountry, the menu is meat-heavy,with rack of lamb and cornmeal-dusted local walleye, but it alsofeatures housemade pasta and aboard so full of roasted veggies,dips and towering baguette slicesthat I needed a doggie bag. Thatplus a salad was just $9, thanks toa well-attended and hard-to-be-lieve happy hour from 5 to 6 p.m.and 9 to 11 p.m.: You’ll get half offall starters, soups, salads, pizzas,burgers, mac and cheese, and se-lect beers and wines. No fine print.

The first thing I noticed aboutthe cinnamon toast at YoungBlood Coffee: It was as thick as atwo-by-four. Then I saw the tinylakes of butter pooling in the freshsourdough, and I knew that if mychildhood toast had looked likethis, I would’ve never left home.Young Blood makes its own sour-dough (a bargain at $5 per loaf,the same price as avocado toast)and roasts its own coffee beans. AsI savored my slice of heaven, Rushplayed on vinyl atop the morningchatter. Nearby, I noticed a lovelygreen matcha latte with an Insta-gram-perfect design in the foamed milk. This new location isaround the corner from hip Rob-erts Alley, which has an indoorbike parking lot like nothing I’veever seen: bike tools, a pump andgym-style lockers and benches.

ShopLocal faves

If Etsy metamorphosed into abricks-and-mortar shop, it would look like Unglued. Featuring morethan 300 local and regional mak-ers, mostly women, the shop is often bustling. Under twinkly lights and hundreds of origami cranes swooping down from the ceiling, you’ll find a jigsaw puzzle of the famed Fargo Theatre; a one-sie adorned with a loon, the Min-nesota state bird; jewelry made from repurposed dishware; zipper pouches featuring hockey skates; and hair pomade from Dakotah Beard Oils. Yeobo Sweet Shop is in the back. How can you not love thebulk offerings when they’re green apple Army guys, black currant gummy mustaches and giant sour spiders? If you’d rather DIY than buy, check out Unglued’s classes in leatherworking, ceramics, embroi-dery and macramé.

For a uniquely Midwestern ex-perience, head to Scheels, a nearly200,000-square-foot mash-up ofREI, Dick’s Sporting Goods andCabela’s, with a 12-car Ferriswheel and enough taxidermiedanimals for a natural-history mu-seum. Upon arriving, the world’sfriendliest cashier greeted me, and cheery welcomes continuedas I ambled through the store. (Istopped counting at eight.) Ipassed all the expected sports-wear and gear, as well as skate-boards, pogo sticks, cornhole setsand Bison ties with green and

FARGO CONTINUED ON F4

GoLocal faves

On autumn Saturdays, takeyour team spirit to the Far-godome, which houses the homefootball field of the North DakotaState Bison. The ThunderingHerd, as the team is known, haswon the NCAA Division I FootballChampionship tournament — adifferent animal than the bowlsystem — six of the past sevenseasons. Fargoans bleed yellowand green year-round. (Insidertip: You’ll hear chatter about Car-son — that’s Herd alumnus andhometown hero Carson Wentz,now in the NFL as a quarterbackfor the Philadelphia Eagles.) Tail-gating is a sight to behold: Itbegins at 4 a.m., and you’ll findcustom-wrapped buses and mo-tor homes, propane-heated tentsand vans donning bison horns.The dome seats 19,000 for gamesand 25,000 for concerts such asthe recent Def Leppard and Jour-ney shows. Across from the dome:the Fargo Air Museum.

I love stepping into placeswhere you momentarily forget what state — or country — you’rein. For utterly surreal, try Sons ofNorway Kringen Lodge No. 25,where I felt certain about only onething when I arrived at 1:28 p.m.:Pie Thursday would be over in twominutes. The lodge is among thelargest in this Nordic heritage fra-ternal organization, and the build-ing, an old Buick dealership withred carpet and walls, is decoratedwith Norwegian folk art, Vikingcarvings and rosemaling. (The lastis a traditional painting style made up of scrolls and flowers;even the dumpster is rosemaled.)As I ate cherry pie in the diningroom, a regular group played bridge and two volunteers chattedabout lutefisk. On my way outwith a pack of homemade lefse, apotato flatbread, I picked up anewsletter and glanced at “klub”activities open to the public: Nor-wegian lunches, walleye dinners,folk dancing, rosemaling practiceand weekly live music in the TrollLounge, which has a 96-foot mu-ral and 22 hand-carved trolls.

Guidebook mustsOutside Fargo, it’s nearly im-

possible to mention the city with-out people commenting on themovie, so hats off to the Fargo-Moorhead Convention and Visi-tors Bureau for treating visitors toa little “Fargo.” The CVB displaysthe screenplay and a promotionalice scraper, but the main attrac-tion is the original woodchipperwith a leg poking out. A friendly woman rushed over from behindher desk, holding a flannel hatwith ear flaps. “Would you like meto take your picture in the hat? Youcan pretend to push the foot in.” Ihanded her my camera and posedawkwardly. “Now,” she said, “witha horrified look!” While I was there, a mother and daughterfrom Northern Virginia arrivedand announced that North Dakotawas their 50th state. The womanexcitedly gave them “Best for LastClub” T-shirts and certificates, andthe Virginians told us about theirtravels. I left the center and spent 36 hours in Fargo without hearinganother peep about “Fargo.”

Known for its American mod-ernism and regional art, the Plains Art Museum was an earlyinvestor in the downtown’s ren-aissance and has become a gather-ing place for the community. Lo-cated in a gorgeous turn-of-thecentury warehouse that once stored farm machinery, the mu-seum has about 4,000 works in itspermanent collection. There’s aprint studio, performance area,pollinator garden and space forworkshops; one on Native Ameri-can poetry and art will be held onAug. 23. When I visited, I enjoyeda large audio installation, a Wil-liam Wegman pup, a Warholscreen print of first lady Jacque-line Kennedy and David Bradley’sMona Lisa-esque 1990 painting“Pow-Wow Princess in the Processof Acculturation.” The museum isfree, thanks to members and do-nors. Some of its other fundingcomes from what’s called charita-ble gaming, a widely acceptedpractice in North Dakota that gen-erates millions of dollars in taxes(from blackjack and bingo, forexample) for a state that offersmeager funding to nonprofit or-ganizations.

EatLocal faves

In their dining-out days, mygrandmothers would have loved BernBaum’s. One collected mid-century modern furniture; the oth-er whipped up Jewish meals and desserts like nobody’s business. So

FARGO FROM F1

Fargo: Quirky, colorful, dynamic

PHOTOS BY JENN ACKERMAN FOR THE WASHINGTON POST

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP: In Fargo, N.D., Chris Hemmah and Darcy Simonson browse at Dakota Fine Art, which is owned by nine prominent Fargo-area artists. The real woodchipper (with fake leg) used in the movie “Fargo” is on display at the Fargo-Moorhead Convention and Visitors Bureau. At Others, boutique founder Laura Morris donates all store profits to education, social health and job creation. A sunflower field in Mapleton, N.D. First-daters Preston Hogason, left, and Berlyn Salwey kick back in a parking lot.

For an interactive map with addresses and contact information, visit wapo.st/fargo

F4 EZ EE THE WASHINGTON POST . SUNDAY, AUGUST 19, 2018

der between North Dakota andMinnesota. From downtown,walk across Veterans MemorialBridge, where you’ll find signagewith more trivia: “The Red RiverValley is one of the flattest land-scapes on Earth.” Stroll north along the tree-lined river to near-by Hjemkomst Center, home to areplica Viking ship. You can rentkayaks there or farther south atLindenwood Park on the Fargoside — which also rents bikes andhas a cool pedestrian bridge toGooseberry Mound Park in Moor-head. (Check it out: The bridgelifts when the river levels rise.) Toretire by the Red at day’s end, headto Lindenwood Campground,where tent sites cost $30 a day.

Guidebook mustJust across the Red River,

Moorhead is often overlooked byvisitors. Granted, the highschool’s mascot is the spud, andthe only unanimous recommen-dation I received from locals wasto visit their Dairy Queen, wherethe Dilly Bar was supposedly in-vented. But even though Moor-head is couple of decades behindFargo in downtown development,there are an increasing number ofreasons to visit this side of theRed. Don’t miss Bluestem Centerfor the Arts, a fantastic amphithe-ater venue. (Joan Jett, CheapTrick and the Avett Brothers arestill on deck this season.) Get yourZen on during free yoga on theComstock House lawn, and getyour drinks at Junkyard Brewing,which feels like a college partywith nightly live music (I caughtthe Cropdusters), free popcorn, ataco truck and unexpected, al-ways changing libations such asstout with peanuts and an experi-mental strawberry sour.

travel@washpost.com

Kaplan is a freelance writer based in the District. Her website is melaniedgkaplan.com. Find her on Twitter: @melaniedgkaplan

and Margie, who grew up nearby,said “Uffda!” — a Norwegian ex-clamation of surprise that I’d seenon T-shirts and mugs. Roomsstart at $184 per night.

Guidebook mustStepping into the Element by

Westin in West Fargo feels a bitlike checking into an eco-friendlyspa, with its modern and mini-malist decor, sunlit rooms andgreenery at every turn. The pet-friendly hotel has priority park-ing for fuel-efficient vehicles, aTesla charging station, free self-service laundry, a nice-size gymand pool, and complimentaryshuttles to the airport and down-town. Most of the 130 rooms havea full kitchen. Borrow one of theElement’s free bikes to pedal todinner at the Blarney Stone Pub,or walk next door to Tru BluSocial Club. Studios start at $129per night, including breakfast.

ExploreLocal fave

Here’s a fun fact: The Red Riverflows north! This slow-movingwaterway meanders 550 miles from Breckenridge, Minn., up toLake Winnipeg in Manitoba, andmost of those miles form the bor-

though you’d eat very well even ifyou never left the property. Tootired to venture out, Margie and Ikicked back in our room andenjoyed a HoDo flatbread withgarden-fresh tomatoes and basil,along with fare we’d picked upfrom Vinyl Taco across the street.One taco was particularly spicy,

morning pastries delivered to myroom. This is Fargo? Earlier thissummer, when my beagle and Iplanned a rendezvous in townwith my friend Margie, I knewexactly where we’d stay. The bou-tique hotel is conveniently locat-ed within walking distance of theriver, shops and restaurants, al-

lar boutiques, with its beautifulproducts and minimalist decor,but founder Laura Morris hasraised the bar by donating allstore profits to education, socialhealth and job creation. Morris, apharmacist and Fargo native,opened the shop four years agoand has never taken an Otherspaycheck. With each purchase,shoppers support vulnerablepopulations around the globe:wooden spoons and bowls helpfund employment programs forsex-trafficking survivors; hoopearrings made from recycledbrass help jewelry-makers growtheir businesses. Each set of sun-glasses sold yields a free eye examand glasses for someone in need;every Bogobrush sale means atoothbrush giveaway. Thismonth, Others expects to reachthe $250,000 mark for donations.Now that’s something to shopabout.

StayLocal fave

When I first stayed at the HotelDonaldson in 2015, I was blownaway by the 17 artist-inspiredrooms, daily wine-and-cheesehappy hour, rooftop bar, turn-down truffle and complimentary

yellow checks. An entire sectionfeatures merch for lake life (locals’ubiquitous weekend activity), with packs of water balloons, kitesand a gun that kills insects with aspray of table salt — all things youcould buy cheaper online, butthen you’d miss the archery shoot-ing range, golf simulator and col-lection of life-size presidents around the store. And then there’sthe gun department upstairs (sup-posedly the largest in the state),where I snapped a picture of the“Youth Shotguns” section in case Ilater thought I’d imagined it.

Guidebook mustsWhen I visited in June, Dakota

Fine Art was still glowing fromits lively grand opening. The nineprominent local and regional art-ists who own and run the galleryhad reason to celebrate: Thespace is filled with stunning piec-es that reflect Great Plains land-scape and culture. Steve Revland,a furniture maker and one of thefounding artists, had brought inhis $3,750 chamcha root coffeetable that morning. “It weighs500 pounds,” he told me, “and Igot it here myself.” Among thelighter-weight pieces is a playfulseries by photographer MegSpielman Peldo featuring Corso,the rehabilitated bison who hasbecome the NDSU mascot. “Wa-ter Buffalo” shows him at a swim-ming pool and “Bison Elevator”captures Corso in front of a grainelevator. By the way, Nichole’sFine Pastry, next door, hasdreamy traditional desserts andScandinavian treats such askrumkake and kransakake.

Just as I’ve begun to tire ofhomogenous retail boutiquesthat have a little bit of everything(Anthroplogie mini-me’s, withwell-made dresses, handcraftedhome goods, tasseled pillows, sus-tainable soap), I came across Oth-ers. The shop may look like simi-

FARGO FROM F3

North Dakota town with a movie-famous name puts the spotlight on its people

PHOTOS BY JENN ACKERMAN FOR THE WASHINGTON POST

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Fresh apples for a batch at Wild Terra Cider and Brewing, the first cidery in Fargo, N.D. The offerings at a bike-sharing station are emblazoned with the North Dakota State Bison logo. Clayton Knutson, 2, digs into a Blizzard at the Dairy Queen in Moorhead, Minn., reportedly the birthplace of the ubiquitous Dilly Bar.

BY MELANIE D.G. KAPLAN

Early one morning last sum-mer at a new Huttopia “glamping”property in the White Mountainsof New Hampshire, I jumped upfrom my cushy mattress andcould barely wait to step outside.There’s nothing quite like the sun’s insistent pink glow throughthe walls of a tent to nudge youout of bed at sunrise. Unlessyou’re my teenage nephews, inwhich case there’s nothing quitelike sleeping until the sun’s highin the sky. More about them later.

Huttopia is a 19-year-oldFrench company that builds andmanages resort-campground hy-brids. I knew about its dozens oflocations in France, but I wasn’theading to Europe anytime soon.So when I learned that its first U.S.camp was opening in Albany,N.H., last June, I booked a NewEngland getaway.

As glamping — glamorouscamping — has gained in popular-ity, we’re seeing more affordableoptions. No longer do you need todrop $800 a night for Italianlinens under an artfully drapedmosquito net. Huttopia’s concept— which features well-designed,Ikea-like tent kits imported fromFrance — is more of an elegantKOA than a rustic Ritz-Carlton.

In fact, these individual accom-modations, which include sheetsand towels (and thankfully don’toffer WiFi), may be the answer forthose of you who like the idea ofcamping but don’t actually likecamping. Poof! No more kneelingin the dirt fiddling with tent posts,searching for that eternally mis-placed flashlight or struggling toboil water for your morning joe.

“We provide a getaway in theheart of nature without the incon-venience of traditional camping,”said Nash Abdrabo, Huttopia’snew CEO for North America. Hetold me that the company willopen camps in California andMaine in 2019 and that it plansfurther expansion across the United States.

When my nephews Zach andGriffin, my beagle Hammy, and Ivisited the White Mountains lastAugust, we arrived to a quietglampground with a heatedswimming pool and a shiny Air-stream trailer where you couldbuy homemade pizza. The boysgrabbed a basketball while Ham-my and I stepped into a large tentthat serves as the site’s lodge.French music played, and Iglanced around to see a pantry(“le garde manger”) stocked withwine, snacks and camping gear.After I checked in, we pulled wag-ons — overflowing with our back-packs, food and gear — down a

path to our home for the night, acanvas tent with wooden posts,just a few steps from Iona Lake.

The Trappeur tent, one of Hut-topia’s four styles of accommoda-tions, sat on a wood platform thatcreated a large deck and a com-fortable indoor living area. Theglampy parts: a timed heater onthe ceiling and a kitchen withrefrigerator, sink, Ikea glasses and

plates, pots and pans, and extrav-agances like a salad spinner and aBodum French press. A narrowbathroom separated two roomsjust big enough for a queen bed onone side and bunks on the other.We scanned the interior, flippingswitches, testing Velcro windowcoverings and exclaiming overnewfound frills, and then weslipped into swimsuits. The out-

doors was calling.I paddled my stand-up paddle-

board around the perimeter of thelake, dodging lily pads and whitefloating flowers that looked liketeacups. A handful of privatehomes bordered the far side. Oneresident, who kayaked alongsideme for a few minutes, said thelocals were glad to have Huttopiaas a new neighbor. “It was a camp-

ground before,” he said, “but it’smuch more about family now.”

Bien sûr, Huttopia felt whole-some. Guests can rent canoes andpaddleboards, take nature hikes,play beach volleyball, watch out-door movies, and use a communalgrill to cook their catch of the day.For parents: beer and wine at theAirstream; for kids: scheduled ac-tivities like painting and ping-pong tournaments.

After we spread our wet clotheson a drying rack (how civilized!)my industrious nephews went tothe lodge to buy firewood andcheddar cheese Pringles. Theygathered pine cones and twigs forkindling and — after many falsestarts and assistance from thefriendly Maine family next door —started a fire. Later, after veggieburgers and grilled zucchini, weunpacked s’mores ingredients,found sticks and skewered ourmarshmallows. In minutes, ourfingers were sticky and chocolate-ly, our stomachs full. Griffinlooked at the fire. “That was a lotof work for a little s’more,” he said.

Inside, we washed dishes. Icleared up some confusionaround our linens (folded neatlyon top of naked mattresses) byexplaining to the boys that whatthey thought were “thick sheets”were actually crisp duvet coverswe’d need to put on the duvets.Pockets lined the canvas walls inlieu of nightstands — handy spotsfor a paperback or water bottle.We took turns in the tiny bath-

room. The sink was the size of atoaster oven, and I bumped myelbows and knees on the wallswhile using the shower and toilet.Nonetheless, we all felt a littlespoiled that we could wash up,ostensibly camping, without aheadlamp and a walk in the woods. We closed the privacy cur-tains to our rooms and turned offthe lights. Through the canvaswalls, we heard pleasant campysounds: our neighbors’ fire crack-ing and popping and our neigh-bor crickets chirping.

At first blush of hot pink shin-ing through the walls the nextmorning, I scrambled outside tosee steam rising from the lake anda fiery blaze on the horizon. Idropped my paddleboard into thestill water and glided past tents ofsleeping glampers, toward the ris-ing sun.

Naturally, the boys slept severalmore hours, and naturally, theyawoke ravenous. We orderedsweet and savory crepes from theAirstream (which also sells crois-sants and espresso in the morn-ings), and when we asked forwater, it came to us in a tall,attractive glass bottle, like you’dfind at a bistro.

The morning stretched on, andwe packed in fun: splashing in thepool, walking the beagle and shooting hoops. When it was timeto leave, we swept the tent, filledthe wagons and rolled them backto the car, entirely too clean andrested to say we’d been camping.

travel@washpost.com

Kaplan is a freelance writer in the District. Her website is melaniedgkaplan.com. Find her on Twitter: @melaniedgkaplan.

S’more, s’il vous plait? ‘Glamping’ the French way.European-style upscale camping hits the U.S.

If you goHuttopia White Mountains57 Pine Knoll Rd., Albany, N.H.

603-447-3131

canada-usa.huttopia.com/site/white-mountains/

The glampground is located on Iona Lake, about 10 miles from North Conway. There 96 units, from $65 for the rustic two-person Bonaventure with communal bathroom facilities, to $170 for the Chalet, which sleeps six and has a full kitchen and bathroom. The most popular is the Trappeur, a canvas-and-wood tent with a kitchenette and bathroomette, at $120 a night, or $140 on the lake. (Take note of the strict cancellation policy.) Dog fees are $4, but some breeds are prohibited. Open mid-May to mid-October; some dates require a two-night minimum.

M.K.

PHOTOS BY MELANIE D.G. KAPLAN FOR THE WASHINGTON POST

Sunrise at Huttopia, top, a “glamping” property in New Hampshire. The author’s beagle, Hammy, and nephew Griffin Goldman, above, take in their surroundings outside their tent.