Because of Edinburgh’s annual Fringe festival and the crowds that come with it, we opted for a taxi ride into the city. Our driver brought us up the narrow, cobblestone streets of the Royal Mile, right to the castle gate. For only £25…just like royalty.
Edinburgh Castle
Guys, I hardly know where to begin. Passing through the gates of Edinburgh Castle felt like traveling back in time, or like being in a Disney castle…only Edinburgh Castle is real. And real people walked those halls, century after century. And for a few short hours, we walked in their footsteps.
I’ll get the bad stuff over with: the worst part was the crowds. So so so many people in tight hallways and poorly organized lines, which felt worse than the crowds at Disney World on New Year’s Eve. Also, the tattoo stadium seating covers a significant portion of the castle esplanade so that we couldn’t see the entrance as it stands the other 11 months of the year. But we had so much to do and see that neither the crowds nor the obstructed view of the esplanade could squelch our excitement.
I could talk about this all day, so I will leave you with my favorite experiences instead:
Visiting the chapel, the oldest building in Edinburgh, standing since the 1100’s
Amazing pic for a chapel right? PC: Jacquelyn
Seeing the Scottish crown jewels which had been sought for centuries by Scotland’s enemies who wished to destroy them, and the Stone of Destiny. No photography allowed 😦
Standing in the room where Mary Queen of Scots gave birth to her only son.
Pretty walls in the very small room where Mary Queen of Scots gave birth
The view from that same room (minus the cars of course)
The prisons where POW’s from the American revolution were held captive.
One of the rooms where American POW’s were housed
Finding our ancestors name and title “William Crichton, Chancellor” and crest in the stained glass windows of the Great Hall.
See William Crichton Chancellor’s name on the bottom left. It’s the top name on the left, so the corresponding crest (top left) is also his.
The views
From the top of Edinburgh Castle; PC: Christina
The Royal Mile A mile-long cobblestone street connecting the low-lying Holyrood Palace to the towering castle of Edinburgh, the Royal Mile is lined with shops, restaurants, museums and, in August, street performers, artists, revelers, tourists…pretty much everyone.
Not everyone knows this about me but I love accents. So much so that my family can predict how much I’m going to like…well…just about anyone…based on whether or not that person has an accent. My favorite accents are Indian, British and Scottish, which means I could basically sit in a coffee shop for the next two weeks listening to people talk and this vacation would be a win. Even so, I’m glad we’re doing more than sitting at a coffee shop for two weeks.
The Highland Games We started Sunday at the Bridge of Allan Highland Games. Bagpipers, bagpipers and more bagpipers. Also, itty-bitty highland dancers and a birds of prey exhibit.
Bitty owl
This guy loves birds
We had to leave before the heavyweight competitions began, which was a major bummer but we still had two castles to visit, both over an hour away from our hotel. And for some reason, everything in Scotland closes before 6pm, killing our sightseeing window…but also forcing us to end our days earlier than we would in say, Disney World or New York City or Boston. So Scotland, our feet thank you.
Campbell Castle Our next stop was Jean’s (Doug’s mom) family castle, the Castle Campbell. Did I mention that Sunday’s weather included gale force winds? Literally. A trees-down-in-the-road, bridges-closed kind of wind. But we climbed over the river and through the woods (quite literally) to grandmother’s castle anyway!
My First International Trip Guys, I’m 42…no, wait…43, and I finally took my first international flight. Sure, we’ve been to Canada lots, and on a cruise of the Caribbean, and we’ve even walked to Mexico and back. But we all know that for Americans, Canada and Mexico don’t count as “international” travel, and a cruise is a cruise. All great experiences! But there’s something different about flying over the ocean and leaving your homeland behind.
I know it’s only the UK – where they don’t even speak a different language (although the Scottish brogue occasionally sounds like a different language) – but Scotland is another country, it’s not in North America and I had to fly here. So just let me have my moment, ok?
Now, in the spirit of my popular Cross Country series, I shall commence blogging about our cross Scotland road trip.
Getting There Our first flight left Boston at 9:30pm and arrived in Iceland at 6:30am Iceland time.
Turns out, my favorite quote of the day occurred on the plane to Iceland:
Christina: Mom, what language do they speak in Iceland? Me: I don’t know. Viking? Ask Dad. Maybe he knows. Christina: Hey Dad, what language do they speak in Iceland? Doug: I don’t know. Viking-ish
This is what our kids have to deal with. Also, we’re so cultured.
We disembarked onto the tarmac (which we’d never done before, so that was cool) and stepped outside to a… um…let’s call it “refreshing” 46 degrees!. (So yes..I’ve walked on the paved roads of Iceland!) A shuttle bus transported us to the terminal where we discovered that our connecting flight was delayed. And we had to stay at the Iceland airport for FOUR hours instead of one. (Not cool.)
Family Photo | Last Minute Summer Road Trip to Frozen Summer Fun at Disney
We’ve taken quite a few road trips in our family: Florida, Cross Country and Back, Florida, Kouchibouguac National Park, Florida, Cape Breton, Florida, Outer Banks, Florida… Short or long, they’re always interesting.
Some notes before we begin: You may find my list light on stories about kids fighting in the car. That’s mostly because our kids are (a) girls (b) seven years apart in age and (c) have always been great car travelers. (Well, minus the fact that one of them was prone to motion sickness and used to vomit on car rides around town). Also, I don’t drink coffee…at all. All Starbucks stops are for the girls and my husband (though he prefers Dunkin’).
Elation: So you’ve planned the trip, prepared your playlist and packed the car. You’re so excited you could pop. It’s about this time that you determine that you have the coolest family in the world. The voices in your head sound something like this, “We are so awesome! We are going to drive to California and back in 32 days, in a four-door sedan. What could possibly go wrong?!”
Family Photo | First day of our cross country trip!
In our family, whenever we travel, Doug is what we call the “Cruise Director”. He books lodging and transportation, plans driving routes, makes sure the house is in vacation order and that the car is road ready. He just has a general command of the situation. This held true for our first official college drop off too…or so I thought.
For the most part, Doug is a pretty steady guy, not prone to emotional highs and lows (except for the usual Type A impatience, frustration and anger) and so sometimes I honestly forget that he has feelings. Terrible, right? I know. I know. Keep reading…you can mentally lecture me later. As we prepared to leave that morning for the school, Doug was his typical, high-intensity self, wishing everything had been done faster (we had plenty of time) and that we had packed less. (I’ll cut him some slack on this one – he is a man living with three women.) After spending an hour trying to fit everything in our four door sedan – which he did masterfully – he jumped in the front seat, turned the key and…nothing. The battery was dead. Why? Because he had left the radio, interior lights and GPS on the entire time he was packing the car (and my battery is kinda old). I bet some of you have already figured out where the jumper cables were. Of course! In the trunk, under about 30 pairs of shoes, 75 t-shirts and, well, everything else!
As he worked on digging out the cables and jumpstarting the car, I went inside to grab breakfast, which I suddenly had time to eat. Did I abandon him? Well, have you ever been around Doug when he’s in a hurry and something goes wrong? Best to give the man a little space. A couple minutes later, as I’m walking by the front door shoveling a spoonful of Cinnamon Toast Crunch into my mouth, I heard Jacquelyn say “Woa! Why is it smoking!?” Did I hear her right? Nah. Can’t be. She must be seeing things. Smoke? Silly girl. I was so confident in my cruise director, I just went about my business, enjoying my little breakfast time. When I went back outside, Doug explained that, yes indeed, the car had been smoking. Turns out that because my battery terminals were badly corroded, the red cap to the positive terminal was hidden, and the negative terminal was, for some crazy reason, painted red, Doug mistakenly reversed the charges. Doug. My Doug. Responsible, experienced, alert, cautious, has-jumpstarted-a-car-a-thousand-times Doug, reversed the charges. That is when I started to worry….maybe he is a bit addled after all.
Thankfully, the battery wasn’t damaged and, after Doug corrected the connections, we were able to recharge it. Finally, we were off! Now, this was far from our first drive to her school. Yet somehow, Doug managed to miss the exit. (Sure, I could say “we” missed the exit, but remember: I wasn’t really paying attention because my “cruise director” was supposed to have everything under control.) It’s no surprise that our GPS diverted us into downtown Boston which meant so much traffic and so many stoplights that our average speed was probably something like 12 mph. Show of hands: How many of you want to be trapped in a car with a man who has had the morning this guy’s had? Exactly!
Shortly after we got back on the highway, Christina pointed to our digital gas gauge which displays how many miles we have left before we run out of gas. Here’s what it looked like: O – yup. Zero. Zero miles left. There we were, on a highway jammed with August North Shore Weekenders, with virtually no gas in the tank. Trust me when I say that every one of us prayed so loudly and fervently you might have mistaken us for all for Pentecostals. (Not that there’s anything wrong with Pentacostals.) At the next exit, we sat through 3 red lights, staring at the gas station just across the street, fighting off visions of pushing a stalled car and desperately trying to will ourselves through the intersection. So close…so close. Come on, Light! Change! Change! Oh God, please, let us have enough gas. Please!
Well, praise God, we made it! And there was a Subway there too; so God provided gasoline and lunch. And from that point on our trip was fairly “normal”, if you can call anything our family does normal. We arrived at the school and moved all of Jacquelyn’s stuff up to her steamy room on the unairconditioned third floor. I’m not sure where Doug was but I helped get the maintenance people in to fix the broken beds and even had them bunk the beds for us. I could’ve waited for Doug, but by that point I had figured out that he was just, well, not himself. Better to leave it to the professionals. (And by “professionals”, I mean some college kids working maintenance.) Sometime later, Doug arrived with a refrigerator from a nearby Wal-Mart (is that where he was?) – one with a real freezer to fit the ever important pints of ice cream. What a guy! It will come as no surprise that he had to wait in the check-out line, with a dorm fridge, for over 20 minutes. It was just not his day.
After 4 hours of unpacking and organizing, we said good-bye to Jacquelyn and Emily (her roommate and friend from church), but only for the night. They were off to orientation meetings and we were off to find dinner. Do you find it odd that the school sent us off campus for dinner at 5 and then wanted us back at 7:30 for a dessert reception? Traffic was so horrendous that by the time we checked into our hotel and had dinner it was 8:00! We had our first dinner without Jacquelyn at Bertucci’s in Peabody. Sure, we’ve had dinner without her before…but this was official. Oh yeah, and we made a final run to Target for those last few items. Doug bought her a pink and black tool kit. Such a dad thing to do! But seriously, every girl should have her own tool kit. And, no, we never did make it back for the dessert reception. Man, school hadn’t even started and I was skipping already.
The next morning we were due on campus by 8:45 a.m. for an official welcome, after which we spent a very busy day taking care of business – bank accounts, job applications, etc. We closed the day with the school’s Commitment Ceremony and a speech wrought with all sorts of sentimental images – like the first time your child went off to school, or learned to ride a bike, or what it will be like to set the table with one less plate. My goodness…just stick a knife in my heart, why don’t ya? Was this guy trying to make us cry?
Saying good-bye was rough but Jacquelyn cried so hard that I couldn’t cry at all; I was just too worried about her. Doug didn’t cry either, but it was difficult for him to actually get in the car and drive. He stayed and watched her go until she walked completely out of his sight. Christina? She could have filled a bucket with her tears. As a reward for our long days and heavy hearts, we drove to Cape Ann to walk along the beach and then visited Rockport. We watched the sunset from a little cafe where we had dinner. We also bought Christina a sparkly butterfly ring and ice cream, which cheered her up sufficiently. And what about Doug? Well, after dinner and a coffee he drove us home. No dead batteries. No missed exits. No empty gas tanks. Just our very own cruise director back at the helm.
Tip #3 – Beware the Addled Dad – Just because your husband is all business about this college thing – you know, writing the checks, lamenting about how the payments are gonna destroy your retirement, making sure she has all her legal paperwork, setting up her bank account, buying her a hammer and an allen wrench – remember, that somewhere deep inside, this is shaking up his world, even if he doesn’t know it yet. I suspect this is even more true for dads of daughters. After all, it’s his job to protect his little girl, and now what’s he to do when she’s out from under his roof, living among strangers in a strange place? So be kind, be patient and be prepared. You never know when you might need to fix a broken bed, remind him to stop for gas or just squeeze his hand and tell him it’s all gonna be alright.
I knew it would be crazy – this last summer before college. Summer’s always a little crazy for us anyway. But this summer, with the shopping and paperwork and all of the “lasts” – the last visit with this friend, the last visit with that friend, the last sleepover with discipleship group, the last trip to Sonic, the last night watching Suits and Gilmore Girls, the last drive in her car, the last late night bedroom dance party, the last trip to Tulmeadow for ice cream, the last dinner with grandparents – this summer left me not only exhausted, but emotionally drained. And by drained, I mean sucked dry like an Oklahoma creekbed during the dustbowl. “Tired” doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel.
Looking back, however, I am so grateful for the last couple of weeks we had together. First, Jacquelyn stopped working two weeks before she left, in part so that she could be more available for Faith Quest, our church’s summer camp. I had mixed emotions about Faith Quest happening just a week before she left, but as one of the directors I had to be there; and in the end it was a blessing. As a family, we had little choice but to spend every night together and we ended up enjoying a shared experience. Then, each night we went home (usually after some McFlurry’s) and stayed up late talking….or making rice krispie treats and watching Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer. (No, I have no explanation for that.) In past years, Faith Quest has sometimes been a strain on our family, but this year I believe we had more joy than ever.
The last week before the big move, Doug and I both took some time off work and I tried to schedule work or personal errands during those hours when Jacquelyn was off having a “last” something with one of her friends. We were trying to protect our time as best we could. Of course, as often happens, my plans began to fall apart – particularly at work, where Murphy’s Law seemed to be in full force. I fought the urge to flip out or break down and just kept asking God for help, trusting him with the timing and making adjustments as necessary.
We were careful to protect the time we had set aside for dinners with grandparents, visits with neighbors and last minute shopping. I also made some of Jacquelyn’s favorite meals that week (Tomato Basil Pasta Salad, Chicken Fajitas and, of course, Potato Pancakes) and let her order out one night from her restaurant of choice – which ended up being potato pizza from one restaurant and fried pickles from another! Then, I found out that, on her own, she had decided to devote her last two days entirely to family and packing. She couldn’t have given me a nicer present.
During it all, I could feel our time together running out. In some ways, I felt alot like I did when I was pregnant: the time was coming, she needed to go, it was the right thing to do, but, man, was this gonna hurt! I described it to my mother as being on a train I couldn’t get off. I wanted to plan something special but not too sentimental and sad for our last night. After some prayers, a little divine inspiration and God’s good timing, I was able to arrange a suprise visit with our friends-that-are-like-family, the Davidsons, at Tulmeadow Farm. Jacquelyn knew we were having ice cream, but she didn’t expect to see her friends there…in fact, they had just flown back that day from a trip to Texas, so she wasn’t expecting to see them before she left for college at all! She was surprised and so happy. We enjoyed our ice cream and sat around talking and laughing until it was dark out. It was perfect.
We finished the night off by driving to Doug’s old childhood home in West Simsbury and letting the girls climb on the big rock on the cul-de-sac green, one of their favorite places to play when visiting their grandparents before they moved. On our way home, we drove around with the windows down, blaring our family songs and singing along. Last year, while on our cross country trip, the song Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey kind of became our theme song (mostly due to the line “it goes on and on and on and on”) but since then, it has kind of stuck. We also listened to Party in the USA, The Gambler and Sweet Caroline. The good news is that the sun had set and we were moving, so noone could see us our hear us!
While driving along with my hand out the window in the wind, I suddenly felt like we were on our cross country trip again. I was instantly reminded of all those days and nights on the road together, of all the amazing things we saw and did together. Suddenly, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I’ll admit, I had fun driving around and singing in the car that night, but thank goodness the music was loud…that way noone noticed when I was too choked up to sing. “Come on, Nichole, it’s OK, enjoy these moments. Enjoy them,” I told myself.
We went home to some last minute packing, a little disco dance party in Jacquelyn’s room (um, without Doug, that is) and the new episode of Suits. I was amazed, utterly amazed, at the gift of time God had given us that night…that week…that summer…last summer…her whole life. What a joy it has been to have her with us these last 18 years. What a gift.
So Tip #2: Take, Make and Enjoy the Time – Time is a gift. Give yourself, your son or daughter and your family the gift of time. And when, like me, you find things falling apart all around you and can’t figure out how you are going to get everything done, say a prayer and let God, the creator and keeper of time, empty your days of what doesn’t matter and fill them with what is important.
This is one of my favorite pics of Yellowstone. Taken by Jacquelyn!
Travelling across the country wasn’t just about places, it was about people too. We met so many different individuals that I need help from my family to remember them all! Our first real conversation took place in Niagara Falls with a very friendly lady from Pennsylvania; she was travelling with her husband and teenage son and daughter. We had found a snake in the rock ledge along the sidewalk and she stopped to talk about the raccoons that run around the city in broad daylight.
In DeSmet, South Dakota, I particularly appreciated our tour guide, a dark-haired, fair skinned, college-age girl, dressed in period clothing who taught us all about pioneer living.
While at the Badlands, we met a middle-aged husband and wife who had planned to drive cross-country on their motorcycle (wow) until the husband tore his rotator cuff; so they rented an RV instead.
The next day we walked around Devil’s Tower with a man retired from the military and his 10 year old daughter, Kirsten, who live in Virginia. Every summer the two of them hook up their camper and head out for 6 to 8 weeks on the road. His wife, employed in the defense industry, flies out to meet them at the place she most wants to see and stays for a couple weeks before returning to work. Christina and Kirsten, both 5th graders, really enjoyed chatting together as we circled the monolith. Kirsten and her dad (we never did learn his name) are quite the adventurers, from rock climbing to white water rafting, they do it all! We actually bumped into them several days later in Yellowstone and met Kirsten’s mom! (See a pic of Kirsten early on in the blog.)
One night, after arriving at a hotel in Gillette, Wyoming tired and hungry, the front desk clerk, who had all her family and friends visiting her on the couches in the lobby, baked a fresh batch of cookies for us! She’s at the top of our list of favorite front desk associates.
We had an interesting encounter in Yellowstone. A white haired gentleman saw our license plates and asked where in Connecticut we were from. Turns out he lived in Avon! (Read about him somewhere around day 7)
We also met an amiable man from Great Britain while waiting for Old Faithful to blow. He had travelled the U.S. to visit his brother in Oregon, was touring the northwest alone by car for a few weeks and then returning to Oregon to visit his niece – who, by the way, no longer speaks to her father (his brother) so he visits them separately. Ahh – family struggles abound everywhere, don’ t they?
That night our stocky, waiter, with crystal blue eyes, chestnut colored hair and full, yet perfectly trimmed beard served us a delicious meal and dessert ~ we later found out it was his restaurant. Looking for a good meal in Gardiner, Montana? Go to Rosie’s.
While stopped for construction in Nevada we got out of our cars (if you’ve read my previous blogs you will know that we were really stopped) and talked with the young couple that was parked (yes parked) behind us. They were relocating from Boston to Sacramento because the wife was beginning her medical residency at UC-Davis.
In San Francisco we shared a tour trolley with a kind, married couple and their son and daughter. They shared lots with us about the city and we eventually deduced that they were real estate agents. (The continual pricing of every house we drove by kinda gave it away.) Their four year old son would hardly look at me the whole trip, but after I gave him my blanket to keep warm (because someone had taken theirs) he developed a new fondness for me. I actually got an invite to his 5th birthday party, next January, on 17th street in San Francisco. Or was it 16th? I can’t wait 😉 Even got a high five as we were leaving the trolley!
I sat on a bench to rest at the base of General Sherman’s Tree in Sequoia National Park where I met an elderly woman who lost her husband last year. She shared with me that her travels were bittersweet because, while she was enjoying her family, she missed her husband with whom she took many cross country road trips. I couldn’t help but think of my grandfather who only lasted 4 short months after losing my grandma. This woman has been in my prayers.
In Disney, I met a hispanic grandmother and L.A. native who vowed she’ll never leave because that’s where her kids and grandkids live. Our conversation began when we moved over on the Disney Train so she could have a seat. “Wow. You guys are wonderful people! You moved over!” she practically hollered. Sometimes it really is the little things that matter. I learned she likes California weather but fears the earthquakes – and like most women, she loves her family.
In Phoenix, Doug was walking into a Wal-Mart and he said his classic, boisterous “Good Mornin!” to a middle-aged african-american woman as she passed by. “You ain’t from around here, are ya’?” she replied, “Most people around here treat me like I’m sh–!” Doug was a bit surprised but he finally said, “Nope, I’m from the northeast and most people actually say we’re unfriendly! You have a good day!” I don’ t think he’ll ever forget that exchange.
We drove along the ridge at the Grand Canyon and there we met an african-american man returned from a tour overseas and moving with his wife and daughter to a new base. They decided to make a vacation out of it and visited the Grand Canyon along the way. Turns out he’s originally from Windsor, CT; said he hadn’t seen a CT plate in a long time.
In Amarillo, Texas, we met Bob and his teenage granddaughter, Amber. The two of them were travelling from Oklahoma City to the Red River in Mexico to go fishing and then to Denver to visit his daughter. He shared so much with us – about sorrow for friends hurt in the Oklahoma City bombings to the joy of his granddaughter’s turnaround since changing schools to the pain of recently putting his wife in a nursing home. He and she had travelled together often. Oh how my heart goes out to him.
Sitting just behind us at the Grand Ole Opry were two very friendly, elderly couples. One of which had travelled cross-country by train in 1999. We loved listening to their stories and they, the lady especially, enjoyed watching Christina. She said she missed her grandkids back home in Kentucky.
There were many, many more people that we met. Others we just observed. From wealthy white-haired women in Rolls-Royce’s on Rodeo Drive to the middle-class vacationers everywhere to the homeless man we bought a newspaper from in Nashville, (If you have a minute google “The Contributor” a newspaper by the homeless in Nashville); from the farmers in Minnesota to the Amish couple driving their horse covered wagon in Wisconsin to the ranchers in Wyoming ; from the real estate broker in San Francisco to the man talking Christian apologetics with perfect strangers while waiting for a bus at the Grand Canyon to the retired couples at every stop to the struggling musicians in Music City. This is my America. This is your America. This is our America.
There is so much that divides us. Sometimes its the real mountains, rivers, oceans and deserts that keep us apart. Other times it’s money, class, jobs, religion or race and culture. Then there are the barriers we build ourselves – our opinions, judgements, politics or even our busy schedules. And we always have a few mountains that we pretend we don’t see so we don’t have to climb them – the emotional separations, the personal isolation, family divisions and damaged relationships.
While on this trip my girl’s kept telling me that they want to meet their “other” grandpa – my biological father. We were driving through Virginia, where he lives, after all. 31 years since he moved away and made a new family, 9000 miles around the country and I still couldn’t bring myself to climb that mountain.
Even at the best of times, we will find something to divide us. I believe that’s just human nature. But as I travelled along roads built from coast to coast, highways that cut through cities and farmland, traversing deserts and mountains, bridges and tunnels to cross rivers and even the ocean, I thought about those things that connect us all: our passion for family, a love for freedom and liberty, a desire to succeed, a loyalty to our country, a need to be loved unconditionally, a longing for peace, security and a place to call home, a hope for a future and a yearning for something more than this…for meaning or purpose.
Connecting the American landscape was no easy task. Think of the years of back-breaking work it took to lay the trancontinental railroad, the lives lost building the GW bridge or the billions of gallons of asphalt that made our summer vacation possible. But somewhere, somebody had a vision of a country, a people, even a world, connected – despite our differences.
Where is that vision today? In America? In your neighborhood? Your church? Your family? I am talking to myself here, too. I mean, we never went to see my biological father. Even after a couple years of talking on the phone, I am not ready to see him or let him into the lives of my children. I’m not saying I want to turn around, but maybe some canyons are too wide to jump across – sometimes we need to stop and take time to build a bridge.
Our two days at the beach were fabulously relaxing and I have a renewed love for the Atlantic Ocean. We slept in(glorious!), had breakfast at 1:00 and walked the boardwalk. Then we returned to our hotel for a swim in our salt water pools! Throughout the entire trip Christina kept trying to make a whirlpool in just about every pool in which we swam. This was difficult because the pools were big and there were just four of us. Imagine her excitement when we found that the children’s pool housed a constantly moving whirlpool all its own! What a treat this was for her and us; we had so much fun!
Late that afternoon we walked along the ocean, played in the waves and buried Christina in the sand. For dinner we ate grinders from a local deli (yummy!); we brought them to Rita’s, ate at their tables and then ordered up some delicious custards and italian ice.
That night we tried to go for a swim in the indoor pool. Doug and Christina dipped their feet in its warm waters the night before and encouraged us all to go. Unforunately, the pool had been drained and refilled that morning and this time the pool was like ICE!!!! Christina was so sad, but I told her, “No worries! We’ll fill the jacuzzi!”
That cheered her up tremendously. Until we began filling the tub and found that the water was yellow. We all stood around the tub, staring into the water, bewildered. As the water level rose, the hue slowly deepened to a rusty green. I kid you not – our feet were in green water! Umm, had we been showering in that? Doug called the front desk and said these words exactly, “Trivia Question. What color is your water?” Without hesitation the man answered, “A brownish, greenish.” What?! He claimed that because of a drought they shipped in water and that, due to the containers, the water is tinted greenish brown. He also said that the water had been tested and is free from any dangerous chemicals or bacteria.
As we continued to fill the jacuzzi, the water turned a deeper shade of brown and eventually, we could not even see our feet. This is not a literary device of any kind – no hyperbole here – just brown water! Testing or no testing, we couldn’t take it anymore. We drained the tub, popped some popcorn, watched the end of Finding Nemo (to which we had all fallen asleep the night before) and tried to forget that this is the same water with which we brushed our teeth!
Our last day was spent swimming in the pools and walking along the shore at high tide. Even thought we all loved the hotel and beach, we were anxious to get home! Our drive back to CT was typical: heavy traffic in Jersey and toward the GW bridge. When traffic stood still, we exited and took the Tappanzee. On the other side of the bridge, our GPS tried to direct us to 95 via the Sawmill Parkway South. Doug nearly threw it out the window! We have learned that while the GPS handles most parts of the country very well, from Virginia to points north, the technological wonder seems a little confused. Maybe it was just tired!
We called a Chili’s in Milford when we were about 20 minutes away, ordered our dinner to go and ate in the car. (Still had some gift cards left!) As Hartford came into sight, I couldn’t help thinking that our little capital, all lit up at dusk, never looked so beautiful. We couldn’t avoid one final rest stop (someone had a lot to drink with dinner) at the McDonald’s on exit 37, and then we enjoyed an amazing light show as we drove north on 189. The giant black clouds hovering over Massachussettes flashed pink and gray with lightning every few seconds.
How strange and wonderful we felt driving into Tariffville. When the girls saw the signature cliffs along 189, just before the stoplight at the bottom of Elm St., they cheered! We pulled into our driveway with a well-lit walkway thanks to our solar powered lights! After 9456.4 miles, 32 days and 27 states we were finally home!
We were most excited to see our pets for the first time in a month! We were also welcomed by food and treats from my mom and a “Welcome Home” sign from our neighbors, Jay and Pam. We didn’t get here by clicking our heels three times, but no matter what, there is no place like home!
While driving through the Virginia on Wednesday, we pulled over to take our picture on a street named Cross Country Lane. I stepped out of the car and took a deep breath. “What is that smell?” I said aloud. I breathed deeper, inhaling the sweetest, freshest air I had smelled in weeks. A few more inspirations and I knew…cut grass!!! Home couldn’t be far away now!
That night we raced to our hotel and arrived about 30 minutes before the summer premiere of Psych! We ordered pizza in and laughed like crazy during our favorite show.
Thursday morning we went to Monticello, Thomas Jefferson’s home, shelling out mere $74.00 for the four of us. The property was beautiful and one can clearly see why the cost of entry is high. The land and house are immaculate and obviously well-staffed. During our tour of his home, we saw Jefferson’s books, living quarters and various collections. We learned so much about him and his family; the words, “the more I see the less I know” keep coming to mind.
Christina writing with a quill pen at Monticello – she really misses home!
We followed along a plantation tour for about 10 minutes, where we learned about the slave life on Monticello. Jefferson’s internal battle with slavery is very interesting. He believed that all men were born free, but couldn’t imagine life and economy without slavery. While the tour intrigued us, our white, middle-aged, female guide’s demeanor was very unpleasant. We felt as though we were being dramatically lectured about the sins of slavery – she was “preaching us a sermon” if you know what I mean. Quite frankly, the facts she shared were testimony enough to the horror of slavery. We didn’t need the fire and brimstone. We left that tour early, did a little shopping at the gift shop and left for the beach!
Upon reaching the East Coast late that afternoon, all of us felt as though, in some small way, we had made it home. We drove the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, stopping to stretch our legs, take pictures and get a snack at the visitor center.
Doug surprised us all with a beautiful, ocean-side suite in Ocean City, Maryland. I wish you could have heard the girls’ hoots and hollers as we entered the room. We all went straight outside to our 30 foot long balcony and soaked in the view of the Atlantic. He even ran out to pick up dinner, so we could all eat on the deck. As I sat on the chair, listening to the waves I realized that, after all the places I have been, the ocean is still my favorite vacation spot!
About 12 years ago, Doug, Jacquelyn and I ventured out on a road trip to Nashville, Tennessee to visit the Grand Ole Opry. By the time we arrived at our hotel stop in Harrisburg, PA, I had a full blown case of the flu – temperature of 103, sore throat, body aches and so on. The next morning we got back in the car and headed home. That Saturday night, through a fog of fever and medication, I watched the TV as my favorite country artist, Vince Gill, made a surprise appearance on the Opry stage. Oh that cruel, cruel twist of fate! The only saving grace: I was so sick I didn’t have enough energy to be sad or angry. I just thought, “wow,” and shook my head.
Monday, after many years and an 8,000 mile drive (we took the long way), we finally made it to Nashville! The landscape here looks a lot like home – lots of green trees, rolling hills and roads cut through rocky earth. In fact, on the way to our hotel last night, Jacquelyn said, “Doesn’t this look just like we’re driving down route 189 to our house?” We all agreed.
We walked the club and shopping strip on Broadway, near the historic Ryman Auditorium both days. Live music drifted through the open doors of every club as we passed by. With every few steps, one sound and style of music swelled and faded and swelled into another and then another and then another. I was overwhelmed to think of all these people striving to get a break and make it big. I guess, instead of being positive, I am inclined to think of all the ones whose dreams will never materialize. I pray they find new dreams! Then we visited the area known as Music Row, where some will see their dreams come true.
Monday we ate some fried chicken and barbeque at the legendary Loveless Café and on Tuesday we shared lunch at the Noshville Deli with our neighbor’s daughter, Christen, who works for Vanderbilt University. Christen often comes home during the holidays, when she and we are very busy, so getting a chance to catch up with her was a real treat! She also suggested a number of places to visit. One of our favorites? Las Paletas – a little, gourmet popsicle store on 12th St. Yummy! (You might catch them on Food Network this weekend!)
We also had the chance to swim in the hotel’s salt water pool just before the rains rolled into town. When the lightning flashed we raced out of the pool and back to our rooms. The Tennessee thunderstorms were intense this week, but perfectly timed; no storms when we were sightseeing!
our seats
Tuesday night was the big night. Tickets to the Grand Ole Opry! Because the Grand Ole Opry house is undergoing repairs from flood damage, Opry shows are currently being held at the original Opry House – the Ryman Auditorium, which is half the size of the new venue. This meant that in order to accommodate our front row tickets, two rows of chairs were placed directly in front of the stage for us and about 15 other people. We were so close that I could straighten my leg out in front of me and set my foot flat on the stage wall. At first we all thought this was a bit too close for comfort, but as you will see, it all worked out in the end.
The star studded, live radio broadcast, family show began with the ever entertaining, bling wearing, cowboy band, Riders in the The Sky – they even performed their song, Woody’s Round-Up from Toy Story 2! (I have included, in parentheses, the name of a song played by each band which may help you identify them and/or their kind of music.) Legendary artists included cajun country musician Jimmy Newman (Jambalaya) and singer/comedian Jeannie Seely (Ode to Bille Joe/Chocktaw Ridge). Chris Young (The Man I Wanna Be) and Mark Chestnutt (Bubba Shot the Juke Box) also took the stage before we were treated to rockin’ double headliners Montgomery Gentry (Roll with Me) and The Charlie Daniels Band (A Few More Rednecks).
Active military, just back from Iraq, were at the show Tuesday night. For that reason, Charlie Daniels, a frequent entertainer of troops overseas, rolled out a blues song he wrote and plays specifically for troops in Iraq. The song was a real crowd pleaser and the troops received a standing ovation.
As I mentioned before, we were seated, quite literally, under the noses of the performers. This resulted in singers and musicians interacting with us throughout the night – posing for pictures, smiling, winking and waving. For Christina, who was sitting center stage, this was all the encouragement she needed. She was wiggling and rockin’ and dancing as if she were there to entertain the entertainers. The grandmotherly ladies behind us got quite a kick out of it all.
Charlie Daniels closed the night with one of Doug’s favorite songs, the smokin’ Devil Went Down to Georgia. During this already exciting moment, Charlie leaned forward and tossed Christina his fiddle bow! I am not sure you can imagine the state of shock into which that put me. For a few, very brief moments, I was speechless. And even though before tonight, Christina probably didn’t know Charlie Daniels from Charles Dickens, she was very excited. I think she really understood the extraordinary nature of that moment. As for me, I am driving home with Charlie Daniels’ bow in my car. ‘Nuff said!
Pretty walls in the very small room where Mary Queen of Scots gave birth
The view from that same room (minus the cars of course)
Lightning Bug 