New England autumn (or fall as they call it here)

Now we’re embedded in this weird camp ground with Emil safely here. Our trip to the airport was eventless, the one back a real bummer. Arriving at the tollbooth on the way out from the airport the stonefaced asian guy at the booth said: I can’t let you through the tunnel, it would be against the law, park over there, while I call the state police. We tried to ask him – real polite – what the problem was, since we’d just come the other way without any hindrance an hour or so earlier. But he just repeated himself and waved us to the side. A puzzling couple of minutes later, a state trouper arrived, lights flashing. He explained to us, in a voice loud enough to’ve been heard in Norway, that vehicles carrying propane (which all campers use for stove, heating etc.) cannot drive through tunnels. That made perfect sence of course, why in the world couldn’t the attendant have told us that? His voice booming (it turned out he was practically deaf), the elderly trooper told us that he’d spare us the 500$ fine and stop the traffic in the opposite direction and let us go back the way we came. He explained the alternative route to us – it was a little like Einstein explaning the theory of relativity – and led us on our way. We drove, hearts beating, and drove and drove and drove. We constantly seemed to be going in the wrong direction and we never seemed to hit the Interstate, which should eventually have taken us back onto the right track. When we’d driven for an incredible lenght of time (this was after 10 pm), we decided to put the GPS back on, reckoning that we’d have distanced ourselves from the perilous tunnels by now. Well, guess what, we hadn’t! The GPS led us right back into another tunnel, and we didn’t even realise it before it was too late! With hearts in throats and in eerie silence we drove through the seemingly endless tunnel. In the middle of the tunnel, a state trouper was parked, lights flashing. But, luckily, he was engaged in other business, and we made it through the tunnel without blowing it up and without being fined.

You cannot believe how happy we are that our nice New England friends Matt and Jackie have had the grace to lend us their daughter’s (she’s away at university) lovely Saab car for the rest of our stay here. It is a pleasure beyond description to be driving a car – and a car with turbo at that – instead of the slowresponding and extremely noisy RV.

On our first day with Emil we went shopping for fishing equipment in Wal-Mart, which had Emil stunned (see his blog) and then we went fishing. Or rather, the three of them were fishing, while I was theoretically reading my book in a chair. In reality I spent 3/4 of the time untangling Dane’s fishing line from a variety of trees, shrubs and tall grass. They caught a few small fish, but nothing to write home about. In the evening, Matt and Jackie had invited us to dinner at their beautiful house. I can’t explain to you why I haven’t yet taken a photograph of their beautiful New England home, but I will. While I’m at it (confessing) I also forgot to take a picture of the two of them together. Luckily I’ll get a chance or two more. They were increcibly hospitable and had presents for us (!!!), among them a New England water pitcher called the gurgling Cod, which is described  as a Boston icon. It is real cute and I’m looking forward to dinner parties in the future, when my guests will innocently start pouring water from the lovely pitcher and then, when they set it back on the table, hear the gentle gurgling noise, which will be my cue to tell about our visit to the lovely New England.

The boys got each a cap with the Boston Red Sox logo and Emil and Dane also a bat and a baseball each. Can you imagine hosts like that?

Furthermore, the dinner was wonderful and the conversation easy. I talked too much, but as those of you who know me already know, I frequently do.

The next day we went for a day of seeing the local sights together with Matt. We saw Thoreau’s hut and Walden pond, which he immortalized in his book. I’ve had it lying around on my night stand for almost a year, impressively, but honestly, I never got around to reading it, and when I packed it, it was as pristine as when I bought it. Maybe when we get back?

 

Emil and Dane at Walden Pond. A replica of Thoreau’s hut at Walden.

Next we went to the site of the opening battle of the American revolutionary war. From a European perspective there wasn’t a whole lot to see there, but the story about the Minutemen was interesting. Also, the scenery was gorgeous, the weather perfect. And – we’d just had a really nice lunch…

 

 

We’re on the Concord bridge – or a replica, rather. 

On our way home, we were going into the local Whole Foods store, when David accidently banged the lid of the trunk into my forehead. It hurt like hell, to tell you the truth, and it even bled. But poor David, he was out of his mind for having hurt me and kept going over it in his mind, whether he should have seen it coming, etc. etc. But it gave me a good excuse for staying home in the camper today, while the boys have gone fishing. I’ve done the washing, tidied up, vacuumed and written this. And read my book. So I’m perfectly content and don’t even have a headache.

Matt got the best out in all of us, check the happy couple out here and notice David’s cap – he’s turning all-American and almost ready to join the local militia ;-)

More pictures with silly and/or informative comments here.

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2 tanker om “New England autumn (or fall as they call it here)”

  1. Dejligt at Emil er kommet sikkert i havn. Hvor er han blevet stor!Jeg fanger aldrig underholdningsværdien ved Baseball (eller Football for den sags skyld). Sidder herhjemme (lørdag den 20.10.07.) og ser håndbold. 2*30 min. Det ved man hvad er :-) Fortsat god tur.
    Mikkel

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