Copy: Bishop Hill is more than charming. It is idyllic, about 50 miles south of the Quad-Cities. I can never see enough Bishop Hill, and I cannot eat enough of the food that Bishop Hill serves up. The foods at the few restaurants are not a big hoo-ha; it is just good Swedish comfort food. Beyond food, people go to Bishop Hill to wander the shade-dappled streets and admire all of the buildings that were supposed to be the start of a New Jerusalem in the shape of a Swedish colony, built of handmade bricks. There are all the frame homes, too, gee-gawed with gingerbread frill and in paintbox colors. They look as intact as when carpenters finished the places 100 or 150 years ago. The curtains are lace and behind them are ferns. I can squint my eyes and imagine long, long ago, someone peeking through the lace to wonder, "Who is that stranger in town?" The whole town smells of summer flowers; the scent must be some sort of balm because no one is in a rush. It was to be a prairie utopia, but it fell upon hard days; its founder was murdered during his antic of founding a colony. But his followers left behind the lure of some of the best food you'll find in Mid-America. I head for the Colony Bakery, an old home that used to be Mrs. Smith's Boarding House. The screen door tells you, "Push, it sticks." There is a mustard cupboard, plus tables and shelves full of primitive gifty things. A sign reads, "Keep a green dream in your head and a singing bird will come." A good Swedish thought. Outside, in the back, is an immense oval of a garden that will be planted next year with broom corn. Bishop Hill always excelled in broom corn. Once, the mayor was the town's broom maker. How many towns do you find with an official broom maker? Never mind the brooms, I'm mesmerized by the Colony Bakery's scent of baking bread, Olof's ears, blueberry custard cake and carrot "baby cakes" the size of a softball, Bishop Hill had no bakery for 20 years, so Jim and Cheri Campbell and their son, Tom, took a chance. It's working well. I sit at a table in a snug room where customers are dining upon croissants and other still-warm good things made in the bakery in the next room. It is typically Bishop Hill-esque because people are tidying up after their sandwiches and snacks and putting the crumbs inside a porcelain pan in a dry sink that must be about 150 years old. Look at the walls, all murals painted by Cheri in the manner of Olof Krans, one of America's foremost folk artists, whose works hang in Bishop Hill Museum, just a couple blocks down the street. "Here's the real hero of this place," says Jim, introducing his son, Tom, who puts a thick slice of limpa before us. Limpa is a bread that's baked in a round loaf, made with sweet molasses, grated orange peel and a touch of anise. "After college, I was a student for eight months at the American Institute of Baking. That's very big-time. And then was a baker for Sara Lee," Tom says. (The Colony Bakery is open 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., Wednesday through Sunday.) The essence of home cooking drifts across the street from the Colony Bakery to the Red Oak, a restaurant you can't miss because of its crimson color and all the Swedish trim. Trisha Rux likely will meet you at the door with a hug. She is a pretty, charming woman who owns the place that has been a rendezvous landmark for kottbullar with lingonberries, which is the way they say meatballs in Swedish. In the kitchen, Sharon Bainbridge is hand-rolling Swedish meatballs, more than a thousand a day, with expressive hands. Trish may join you at the table with tales of Bishop Hill. "The late Laura Almgren, who made all the pies for 27 years, called from her hospital bed to tell us the secret of her crust. She said to soak hands in ice water before shaping the crust." (The Red Oak is open 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday.) Everything is "down the street" at Bishop Hill. One of those good eating places down the street is the Paul L. Johnson, which was a hardware store in 1896. Now, lots of the original shelves are still in place. It's a place to look around while dining. (Johnson's is open daily from 11 a.m. until a casual 2 or 3 p.m. or so; 11 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. Saturday. On Sunday during the summer, a meat and potatoes dinner "just like grandma's" is served from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.) Try Bishop Hill. You'll like it. Everyone is friendly. Even the dogs. They'd don't bark.

Offers: The village of Bishop Hill Bishop Hill is a quaint, scenic Henry County town founded in 1846 by Swedes seeking religious freedom. It once had 1,000 residents; now, there are fewer than 200. Contact information: There is no official visitors center. The Colony Store, in the center of town, can be reached by calling (309) 927-3596 or stop there for details. Go to bishophill.com for a short history. Also, try bishophillartscouncil.com on the Web. Attractions: Bishop Hill is a Landmark Village, listed in the National Register of Historical Places. Most of the original buildings are restored. Especially interesting are places such as the giant Steeple Building and the Colony Hotel. All are open without charge. The Bishop Hill Museum houses the paintings of Olof Krans, one of America's foremost folk artists. There are a number of unusual gift shops, museums and art galleries. Getting there: The town is about 50 miles from the Quad-Cities. Take Interstate 74 south toward Peoria, Ill., and get off at the Woodhull exit. Turn right, or east, on Illinois 17 to reach a sign pointing toward Bishop Hill, which is not far off the highway. The signage along the way is good.

History: It was a long walk for its founders to reach Bishop Hill in 1846. They sailed from Sweden to New York, made their way to Chicago by way of the Great Lakes and walked the last 160 miles to Bishop Hill. They sought religious freedom and an idealistic communal life. In the 15-year history of the religious collective, more than 1,000 immigrants left Sweden to join the colony. It is acknowledged that the Bishop Hill Colony was one of the most significant forces in the later immigration of millions of Swedes to the United States.

About: About the series: With gasoline prices out of hand, Quad-Citians are ready for close-in vacation trips.

Categories: Staycations with Bill Wundram

Locations: Bishop Hill