Monday, 10 September 2012

Here i go.. on my own again...

And yes that title was meant to remind you of the song by white snake it was the one i had going through my head when i drove off on my own.....



So today I started the part of the trip where I drive around by myself. Its 8.30pm and im in bed already, not because im bored but because I am sooo tired, and also because this town stops at 7pm!

Last night I stayed in a hostel, it must have looked very funny I walked out of the marriot and down the street into the boston hostel.  I spent the whole evening trying to work out where I was going, not for the whole trip but just for today! I was trying to find some accommodation not wanting to leave it to chance, I could hear mum and dad saying make sure you have accommodation organised so you;ll be safe. Well I didn’t find anything, I finally had to give up having got so caught up in it id forgotten my washing, luckily someone had put it into the dryer and not in a heap on the floor!

Being by myself was odd, I didn’t know what to do, so used to having Cathy around. I made friends with an Italian girl in my dorm and we went out for dinner. Reminiscing about Italy and discussing the strange creatures of Australia.  I then went back and tried to plan. I did not succeed. All I had was a rough plan of where I was to go and where I wanted to stay.

Bed at 12 when I wanted to be up at 6.45 before a day of driving was probably not a good idea.  I didn’t sleep all that well, its been awhile since I slept in a hostel.

Breakfast was one of the best I had seen in a hostel, toasted bagels, coffee, yoghurt, fruit and cereal. I could only stomache a little bit of fruit and a coffee. I think I was nervous about getting to the car and how I was going to go driving on my own. I hadn’t done too well in the driving department with Cathy. She preferred to drive than put up with my driving! It was a huge boat of a car, horrible thing.

Got my car, I never thought I would be happy to see a ford, but a ford fiesta is a nice little car, the guy tried to make me upgrade, they had a deal on apparently he was surprised when I vemently said no I want the small one!

No problems on the driving part, I think the driving of the big car made this seem so much easier. At least I  feel like I fit in the lane!

 My first stop was easy to get too and in 40 minutes I was there. Timing was going good, it was only 10.15. lots of the day to go and the polace opened at 10.

Louisa M Alcotts house in Concord (Massachusetts)  that was my first destination. I couldnt believe I was standing in front of the house that she had written and based Little Women in.  It is in a tiny little leafy town and as I opened the side door to enter I had to duck to get through the door.  I was greeted by a lovely little lady who informed me a group of elderly women had  started the tour and were in watching the introductory video. She was sure they wouldn’t mind me joining them and I hadn’t missed anything yet.  As I walked in I was conscious of my cargo shorts, hoodie and boots. I felt disrespectful but after the video when the lady started to tell us the stories of the place and family as we toured the rooms. I started to remember the type of young girl Louisa or Jo as she is known in the book was and I felt more comfortable in my attire. One of Jo’s quotes from Little Women is; “It's bad enough to be a girl anyway, when I like boys' games and work and manners! I can't get over my disappointment in not being a boy; and it's worse than ever now, for I'm dying to go and fight with Papa, and I can only stay at home and knit, like a poky old woman.”



It was quiet emotional to be standing in front of the desk her father had built her (against all custom of the time), where she later wrote Little Women.  In the room where she had passed away not too many years later.

Her sister May who was Amy in the book, did become a very well known artist in her own right and actually mentored a young boy who went on to later sculpt the Abraham Lincoln memorial in Washignton DC.

At the end of the tour after we had all examined the gift shop and after I had finally escaped the clutches of the elderly women. The lady let me out the front door of the house as though I had been a guest. (I had helped her carry the couple of chairs she provided for the women to have a seat while she was talking, to each of the rooms we had visited.)  She thanked me for coming and said she thought Louisa would be very proud of me for what I was doing and also very jealous that I lived in a time where I could do the sort of things I was.  I felt that Louisa was there saying goodbye as well.




My next stop was the aptly named Sleepy Hollow Cemetery to see Authors Ridge where the Alcotts and their literacy friends are buried. Concord attracted many of the authors of the time and many of them are buried on Authors Ridge.

By this stage it had decided to start raining so I thought I would give it a miss but then I thought rain is an appropriate setting for a visit to a grave.  By the time I entered the Cemetery, by car (as per America everywhere is drivable),  and found the path to Authors ridge . The Heavens opened. I have never been so wet In my life. I found Louisa and her familys graves and paid my respects as well as their family friend Henry David Thoreau an Author in his own right.  I couldn’t find Ralph Emerson the family’s closest friend and reason for them settling in Concord though and it was too wet to hunt any longer.






I then decided to leave town to go to Fruitlands, the property about 16 miles out of town that Louisa’s father moved them to, to try and set up his own sustainable Utopia. They almost starved to death there till their Mother put her foot down and moved them back to town.  It was still raining cats and dogs and I was thinking to myself I should just wander the little main street and have something there, see the town instead of heading out to Fruitlands in this weather when I took a wrong turn and ended up heading back into town. Decision made for me.

I was soaked again by the time I found a nice little café. There I overheard the ladies next to me complaining about the fact that no-one understands they just want to walk sometimes. One of them said she tried to walk home one night and got asked about 15 times if she wanted a lift. Finally she said yes because she couldn’t be bothered anymore!

I got talking to them, when one of them said she knew the secret to knowing which side your petrol cap is on. Something I needed to know!

They recommended a few places I should see in Vermont and told me Fruitlands was difinately worth a visit. By this time the rain had stopped and so off I headed. I made it out of town ok and Fruitlands was  just alittle way off the highway in the direction I was going. I found it ok. Closed on Tuedays., glad I had lunch before.

I was conscious of how much time I had lost in Concord. It was now 2.30. I wanted to make it to Shelbourne by about 4, to make sure I could find accommodation. The drive was uneventful, some awesome fog along the way.  

When I finally made it I drove through town, one street of lovely looking little shops and out the other side. No b&b’s or any signs for b&b’s. Id seen signs for the visitors centre, so I parked up and went looking. I found it. It was closed.  Hmmm… coffee shop, they always know whats going on..nope, the girl serving was an out of towner.. but n she asked another girl and they knew of one along a side street. Serves me right for going to the funky looking coffee shop.

So I wandered up to the b&b and they weren’t answering. I stood on the porch wondering what to do. With Dad’s voice in my dead saying “find accommodation… I told you to find accommodation.” It was going to cost me a fortune to ring them, I had never got around to getting that US cell phone.  As I was standing there a lady drove by who I recognised from also looking at the visitors centre. I waited for her, and she called them for us. No answer. We left a message and called a few others outside of town off a map she had managed to find somewhere outside the centre. Then we decided to wander and wait to see if anyone called back.

I always had the holiday inn 20miles back up at a bigger town as a back up.  But I really wanted to stay here so I could photograph the bridge of Flowers in the morning light.

As we were wandering down the main street we met a lady outside her gift store who was surprised the b&b was not answering so she rang them for us on their personal number and booked us a couple of rooms.  

So we wandered the town or should I say village and the bridge of flowers,  as they prepared our rooms.

We agreed to meet for dinner at about 7… wrong move, there are 5 places to eat in town and 2 are closed due to being the day after the labour day weekend.  And 2 others closed at 7.  All business’s in New England use this time as the break between summer and Fall Foliage season for renovations or their holidays.

We ended up at the diner outside of town.. I was very dubious of this place, It didn’t ooze a sense of good food. Wrong. I we both ordered the egg plant parmesan and it came on a bed of spaghetti with marinara sauce. Delicious one of the best sauces ive tasted.. but we should have ordered one between us! Giant Oval plates filled with spaghetti and sauce, with a bowl of salad on the side. I didnt even know it came with spaghetti!

It started raining as soon as I got back, still hopeful though I have the alarm set for 6am to take photos of the bridge in proper photo light.

Home in bed by 8.30, so tired from driving and sleeping in the hostel. Not sleep though, I needed to tell you about my day!  



















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