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21st Sep 2005
It starts ....
Thursday, 21st September, 2005
On or two minor panic this morning … with battery charging, final packing and then Julia drove us to the airport for about mid-day. We shopped a bit and I joined the twenty-first century by buying a 20 gig iPod – and before everyone gets excited and reaches for the mouse to comment ... its bought with the intention of using it as a means of recording interviews!
The flight was fairly uneventful and extremely easy. BA appear to have resolved part of their dispute with their caterers or have sourced alternatively, for the food was very good.
We passed to the north of Newfoundland, over Labrador and came down between it and the Gulf of St Lawrence, right over the large island at the mouth of the river, which I can’t remember the name of at the moment .. Anticosti?
Great views from the cuising height of 38,000 ft. along the St Lawrence and we flew down the coast; the captain announced at one point that we were passing over Bangor, Maine … but even though the viz was pretty good,we couldn’t see a single box car … let alone a third one.
Its early evening and the sun is skidding across the tops of the clouds turning the western side of them an increasingly vivid pink and against the light, we’re seeing a surprising number of lakes and rivers on the ground below.
With twenty minutes to go, to landing and the Captain making various announcements … I was astounded to see a queue of sixteen, predominantly large, and predominantly American ladies all queuing for the loos.
There had been a steady flow (oh dear I can't think of anyway else to describe it) of them squeezing themselves down the aisle, knocking your papers off the table and generally huffing and puffing as they went, but nothing nearly as synchronised and co-ordinated as this!
I couldn’t help thinking the tale of the large lady, who went to use the aircraft loo on a long haul. History doesn’t relate as to whether she accidentally nudged the flush button or whether there was some slight shift in cabin pressure … but either way, she managed to form a complete seal around the top of the toilet and got stuck. The Captain had to request special permission to drop altitude in order to release her. Sadly, although I had half an ear out for a muffled sucking noise followed by a squawk, no such excitement prevailed.
We got through US Customs without hitch; the officials are almost unbelievably dead-pan. Not a hint of mirth, not the faintest glimmer in the eye, not a crack of a smile. We were finger-printed, photographed and despatched on our way.
Shuttle-bussed out to the stand where the hire cars are and filled in the forms, fending off the overtures of the lady behind the desk who was trying to get us to invest in a larger model. “Well Sir, it would just be a little more comfortable, a bit more room for your bags and … cruise control.” No joy for her today !! Outside, we viewed the selected model; the cheapest (and smallest) that Dollar Car Hire can offer … and it has to be said that it’s at least twice the size of my Vauxhall at home!
“Right out of the gate, left at the first set of traffic lights, through the tunnel ($3 required) and straight up 89” sounded completely inadequate in terms of an exit route from the city of Boston, but it proved to be all that was needed and after about ten minutes underground in the tunnel, we were eventually on the Interstate pounding North.
We’d anticipated a column of 50 mile-an-hour Hummers all sedately proceeding up the highway, but refreshingly, the Americans seem to have changed somewhat and it was like the Wacky races out there with cars over-taking inside, outside, huge lorries (and I mean HUGE lorries), buses, fire engines all hammering along. We just went with the flow (at about 70-80 mph) and after an hour or so of driving, began to ease off and began to enjoy a slightly more ‘New Hampshire’ pace of life.
We pulled off near Warner and after a brief interview with a gum-chewing red-neck in a Warner Gun Club baseball cap who addressed his responses to my enquiries through the check-out girl on the till … we set off a few miles to Bradford.
First signpost on the right said ‘Candlelite Inn’ and we pulled off there; 10pm ... or 3 in the morning at home. A large wooden, white-painted barn of a building or some considerable age (well, you know what I mean … in an American context). Anyway Anne went in to check the place out (notice on the door “No check-ins after 8pm”, but that certainly wasn’t going to dissuade enquiry) and it turns out to be an award-winning Inn. With the car switched off and in the silence that followed, we could hear the noise of crickets all around.
Set everything that needed charging up to charge … which involved un-plugging nearly everything else in the room and then headed down for a cup of tea. The Americans do like providing tea for the Brits … no doubt about it (‘We know how you guys like your tea …’) but then they offer Coffee-mate or long-life milk to go with it … Ho hum.
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