We have just wrapped up another successful RV trip, but this time I was unable to access the internet; therefore, I didn’t even attempt to keep up with the daily blog. I am beginning to regret that decision, so I am going to make an attempt at a past tense, recalled version of the events, but before I do, I need to make a complaint about Texas drivers…. I know… I know… How can I make a blanket statement about the drivers in Texas? Well, I once heard an author (can’t remember her name… apologies) say, “It’s not that stereotypes are false. It’s that they are incomplete.” As I write, we have just been cut off by another sedan. I have no idea what these people are thinking! WE.CAN’T. STOP. Why must you people continually attempt to squeeze between us and the other RV-ing family with whom we are traveling? Can’t you see that there isn’t really room? This must have happened 15 times on this excursion! Listen people, I’m sorry I messed with Texas, but you have to stop doing that to me. Could it be that you are so unaffected by size (since everything is bigger in Texas) that you are stupidly willing to challenge a 40,000 pound vehicle? There. I’ve said it. I can move on.
Day one –
We left Franklin at approximately 4:30 in the afternoon. Initially, I was annoyed and frustrated that I had agreed to leave on Grit Day. I was exhausted from teaching all week and was certain that in our haste to leave I would forget something important… like Abby’s inhaler, pajamas, or a box of wine! Of course, Brent was his usual steady and calm self. He assured me during my temper tantrum that everything would end up in the rig and that we would be off for another adventure without a hitch. Besides, whatever I could possibly forget could most likely be purchased at a friendly neighborhood Wal-Mart.
By the time I got home from school, I was feeling better and excited about assuming the position in my passenger throne. Once we got on the interstate in Fairview, I had settled in to my usual “This is my happy place” bliss. The kids were in the back watching a movie, and Brent was once again the family “Highwayman.”
As in 2010, we are again taking a Spring Break trip with the Krebs family. They have four kids, and, with our three, we are traveling with seven kids. Is there any other possible way to travel with SEVEN kids? The oldest among them will be ten in May. This is a rowdy, loud, and young group of buckaroos. The RVs are the only way to go with this crowd.
We settled on a Texas destination for a variety of reasons, but the primary one was that none of us had ever been. After declaring San Antonio too far for the 2010 trip, we revisited the idea for 2011 over oysters and beer at 55 South. Looking back, I am so glad we decided to make the long trek to Texas. That bee had been in my bonnet for a very long time. Additionally, I have no idea how much longer we will keep the RV, and Texas was a large and missing piece of our plan to show the kids as much of their home countries as we can (more of Canada is a must for the coming years).
But I digress….
Brent and Ames drove in a caravanning fashion until three in the morning on Saturday. The men made good time and rarely stopped to stretch their legs. We finally stopped for “the night” at an Exxon station in the middle of nowhere. I have only once before ever seen a place so desolate. Only Western Arkansas is this dark. This Exxon station is somewhere between Waco and San Antonio. Normally, I would have pitched a fit about sleeping in such a place. I am a Cracker Barrel parking lot kind of girl (sarcasm), but I agreed to it only because I was afraid they would drive all night without a break otherwise. My nerves can only take so much at that hour. To Brent’s dismay and annoyance, there was no way I was going to sleep under those circumstances. Like a scene out of the movie Cars in which the semi-trailer that hauls Lightning MacQueen is repeatedly buzzed and annoyed by the little hot rods, we were continually harassed by low-riding Hondas with ground effects and spoilers. I guess there isn’t much for teenagers to do in this part of Texas. I was bug-eyed and strung out on caffeine. “Brent! It’s on your right! What is he trying to do? Get over! Get over!” I feel certain that Brent was grateful for that Exxon truck stop by the wee hours of Saturday morning.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
July 1-3
July 1 – 3, Boston & Normandy Farms to Durham, Maine
We really have this subway with 3 kids and a stroller thing down. We have no problems navigating, boarding, changing lines, buying passes, but the parking garage is an entirely different animal. We stayed in the Boston area for three days. We boarded the subway at the same stop 3 days in a row. One would think we could find the proper entrance for the parking garage, but we didn’t until the last trip in on the last day and only after a good half an hour of going around and around the concrete structure with no apparent entrance. I can’t even begin to describe how frustrating this thing was. It turns out that there is only one proper way to enter (we found the improper way the day before and were seriously reprimanded upon exit) and that entrance is off the interstate. The merging traffic makes it nearly impossible to make that exit, but that’s it. No other way in. Also, from what we can tell the entire metro Boston area is under construction.
After circling the parking garage for 30 minutes a day, the kids loved their daily ride into Boston on the T. After seeing all the other riders with their novels, Abby insisted on carrying my copy of Three Cups of Tea on board. As we settled in for our 20 minute commute, Abby would open her book and pretend to read. Aidan played Brickbreaker on the cell phone and Ella talked and danced excitedly.
On the afternoon of the first, we took the kids down to Long Wharf to board our tall ship cruise of the Boston Harbor. This is a real, working sailboat complete with resident sailors who sail the harbor all summer and then head south to the Bahamas for the winter. I’ll admit a little jealousy for the lifestyle.
After hoisting the sails (or whatever that’s called), we were allowed to roam. The views of Boston were absolutely stunning. It was a perfect, cloudless afternoon. A few minutes into the sail, the kids were gathered toward the middle of the boat for a short lesson on the Tea Party delivered by actors dressed in period costume. We sailed on in the harbor for 2 hours and at the end the kids were once again gathered in the middle of the ship to prepare for tossing over the “tea.” Since Aidan was the only birthday boy on board, he was given the first shot at tossing the tea. Of course, he loved it.
Back on shore, we crossed the street to Legal Seafood for Aidan’s birthday dinner. Of course nothing on the kids’ menu appealed to him. Instead, he ordered a pound and a half of steamed mussels. The very confused waiter returned with Aidan’s order after apparently stopping to tell every other restaurant employee to go check out the 8-year-old from Tennessee eating the mussels. Aidan didn’t even leave one in the bowl.
That night, on the train, we discovered that we needed to change trains at the JFK/UMASS stop to get the right red line out to Quincy. On the platform, some teenagers were beat-boxing and dancing nearby. Aidan watched them for a few minutes and then slowly started moving closer and closer to them. A moment later, Aidan had joined the group and was trying to copy their moves. One of the boys introduced himself to me as Davon (like Dave-On). He said that he had never met a kid like Aidan. He thought it was hilarious that he just jumped in and started dancing. Davon also told us that his mom is a substitute teacher in the area and that we were the very first people he had ever met from Tennessee. When the train finally arrived, Aidan insisted on sitting with his new friends. At the next stop, we had to say goodbye to Davon and his buddies. As our train left the station, Aidan looked at me and said, “I wish Davon was my big brother.” Before this trip is over, Aidan will make another friend on the subway. More on that later…. This kid is seriously enamored with big city life.
The next day, the 2nd, we hung around the campground in the morning, spent 30 minutes looking for the parking lot at the station, FOUND IT, and boarded the red line for Harvard. After just two stops, I realized that I had left my camera battery back in the van at the Quincy Station. I was heartbroken thinking about taking Aidan to his first game at Fenway and not having a camera. I thought about buying a new battery in the city until I realized that I had also left my cell phone in the car. There was no way I could go into Boston to the game alone with Aidan and no way to tell Brent when to pick us up at the station. We all had to get off the train on the next stop, wait for an outbound, and start all over again.
I had eaten at Grendel’s Den a couple of times before several years ago, so I was thrilled to discover that it was still there and that the food was still fairly cheap… especially for Boston. We had a nice long lunch there and then strolled around the campus for the rest of the afternoon trying to convince the kids that if they worked really hard maybe they could come here to school. None were all that impressed. Aidan said he’d never even heard of their football team. Abby and Ella cried and said they didn’t want to ever leave home. Well, I guess we won’t have to worry about paying for it. They were over it and it was time for our group to split up. Brent and the girls were going back to the campground to swim, while Aidan and I were headed up to Fenway for the game.
Aidan and I made the trip out to Fenway underground since it was a pretty hot afternoon. I felt a little guilty about him seeing so little of the city above ground, but he didn’t seem to care. Arriving at 4 for a 7 p.m. game, we had plenty of time for souvenir shopping and maybe a tour of the park, but the park tour was out once Aidan entered the mecca of hats and shirts on Yawkey Way. He spent nearly an hour picking out just the right hat, settling on the very expensive on-field wool fitted players hat. We finally had the hat in hand when he discovered the jerseys. I completely forgive him for the meltdown that followed when I told him that he simply must choose. There was no way I was buying a $40 hat AND a $60 jersey. In the end, he chose the hat; I chose a new t-shirt and we moved on to find an early dinner.
We ended up at the adjacent Game On restaurant with a fabulous booth near the windows and the enormous bank of televisions showing the World Cup match between Uruguay and Ghana. We watched the game go into extra time and finally to the penalty kicks. Unbelievable game! After eating a quick dinner, it was finally time to enter the park.
I’ll try to keep the sentimentality to a minimum, but I have to admit I wanted to cry. Fenway was as charming and quaint as ever. After passing through our gate, it took us all of 3 minutes to walk to our seats. Thanks to a friend of Dad’s, Aidan and I were sitting along the third base line about halfway up the lower bowl. The overhang shielded us from the sun and we were on an aisle!
We were early enough to the park that the Orioles were still taking b.p. when we arrived. Aidan was able to walk right up to the first row seats for an unobstructed view of the action. I took some pictures and chatted with some locals while the park finally started to fill up. We headed up a few rows to our seats and enjoyed a perfect night for a baseball game.
Tim Wakefield threw 60 mile an hour knuckleballs all night and the game simply flew by. Before we knew it, it was the 7th inning stretch and Sweet Caroline played over the speakers. Aidan and I stood to stretch and dance along with everyone else. Just then, the cameraman zooms in on us and Aidan and I made the jumbotron. I wish that moment had been captured on film because it was absolutely priceless. The cameraman zoomed in on Aidan’s face and he hammed it up for the camera. I have never seen ANYONE so happy.
In the bottom of the 8th, J.D. Drew knocked out his second homerun of the night to give the Red Sox a 2-1 lead. Papelbon was called onto the field and the crowd rose to its feet where it would remain for the rest of the game. He struck out 2 of the next 3 batters and the last one popped up for the third out. Our time at Fenway had been short and sweet. The game lasted less than 3 hours. We sat there until the park was almost empty. Why fight the crowds? Who wants to leave Fenway? Finally, Aidan and I began the walk back to the Kenmore station to catch the T. That’s when the next BIG subway moment happened…..
We were told that either track would be ok to make our way back to the Park Street station where we could pick up the red line out to Quincy. As we waited for 10 minutes in a packed and VERY hot station, train after train left from the other side bound for Newton. The crowd was getting anxious. Not a single train had come through the inbound side. Finally, we saw the lights coming down our track. YES! NO! It was only 2 cars! There were hundreds of people waiting and 2 cars! I was resigned to wait for the next one, but Aidan would have none of it. He pushed his way through that sea of people and pulled me up into the train. He has the hang of this city stuff. I was nearly panicked by my claustrophobia, but Aidan was doing ok. I couldn’t let him see me cry on the subway, could I? So I played it cool and prayed that the doors I was leaning against wouldn’t fly open as we were packed in this thing like sardines.
Next thing I know, Aidan has chatted up a very cute, very early 20’s Red Sox fan. She is making a big deal about him and flirting right back. She offered him a spot next to her, as there was a little more breathing room in her direction. Aidan let go of my hand and wiggled his way toward her. Wow! Another reason for me to cry on this stinking train!!! She held on to him around his shoulder so he wouldn’t fall or get off at the wrong stop. We agreed that she would push him out at Park Street and I would catch him. DO YOU SEE THE METAPHOR HERE? I was having a moment but so was Aidan. When we finally got to Park and out of the crowd, Aidan looked at me and said, “You think a girl like that probably already has a boyfriend, right?” Yes, Aidan, and he probably isn’t 8! “I’m sure she would like you though, son.” In the last 2 days, Aidan has made a new best friend and fallen in love… all on the T. Maybe he is destined to live in Boston or maybe he’s just nuts. ;)
We really have this subway with 3 kids and a stroller thing down. We have no problems navigating, boarding, changing lines, buying passes, but the parking garage is an entirely different animal. We stayed in the Boston area for three days. We boarded the subway at the same stop 3 days in a row. One would think we could find the proper entrance for the parking garage, but we didn’t until the last trip in on the last day and only after a good half an hour of going around and around the concrete structure with no apparent entrance. I can’t even begin to describe how frustrating this thing was. It turns out that there is only one proper way to enter (we found the improper way the day before and were seriously reprimanded upon exit) and that entrance is off the interstate. The merging traffic makes it nearly impossible to make that exit, but that’s it. No other way in. Also, from what we can tell the entire metro Boston area is under construction.
After circling the parking garage for 30 minutes a day, the kids loved their daily ride into Boston on the T. After seeing all the other riders with their novels, Abby insisted on carrying my copy of Three Cups of Tea on board. As we settled in for our 20 minute commute, Abby would open her book and pretend to read. Aidan played Brickbreaker on the cell phone and Ella talked and danced excitedly.
On the afternoon of the first, we took the kids down to Long Wharf to board our tall ship cruise of the Boston Harbor. This is a real, working sailboat complete with resident sailors who sail the harbor all summer and then head south to the Bahamas for the winter. I’ll admit a little jealousy for the lifestyle.
After hoisting the sails (or whatever that’s called), we were allowed to roam. The views of Boston were absolutely stunning. It was a perfect, cloudless afternoon. A few minutes into the sail, the kids were gathered toward the middle of the boat for a short lesson on the Tea Party delivered by actors dressed in period costume. We sailed on in the harbor for 2 hours and at the end the kids were once again gathered in the middle of the ship to prepare for tossing over the “tea.” Since Aidan was the only birthday boy on board, he was given the first shot at tossing the tea. Of course, he loved it.
Back on shore, we crossed the street to Legal Seafood for Aidan’s birthday dinner. Of course nothing on the kids’ menu appealed to him. Instead, he ordered a pound and a half of steamed mussels. The very confused waiter returned with Aidan’s order after apparently stopping to tell every other restaurant employee to go check out the 8-year-old from Tennessee eating the mussels. Aidan didn’t even leave one in the bowl.
That night, on the train, we discovered that we needed to change trains at the JFK/UMASS stop to get the right red line out to Quincy. On the platform, some teenagers were beat-boxing and dancing nearby. Aidan watched them for a few minutes and then slowly started moving closer and closer to them. A moment later, Aidan had joined the group and was trying to copy their moves. One of the boys introduced himself to me as Davon (like Dave-On). He said that he had never met a kid like Aidan. He thought it was hilarious that he just jumped in and started dancing. Davon also told us that his mom is a substitute teacher in the area and that we were the very first people he had ever met from Tennessee. When the train finally arrived, Aidan insisted on sitting with his new friends. At the next stop, we had to say goodbye to Davon and his buddies. As our train left the station, Aidan looked at me and said, “I wish Davon was my big brother.” Before this trip is over, Aidan will make another friend on the subway. More on that later…. This kid is seriously enamored with big city life.
The next day, the 2nd, we hung around the campground in the morning, spent 30 minutes looking for the parking lot at the station, FOUND IT, and boarded the red line for Harvard. After just two stops, I realized that I had left my camera battery back in the van at the Quincy Station. I was heartbroken thinking about taking Aidan to his first game at Fenway and not having a camera. I thought about buying a new battery in the city until I realized that I had also left my cell phone in the car. There was no way I could go into Boston to the game alone with Aidan and no way to tell Brent when to pick us up at the station. We all had to get off the train on the next stop, wait for an outbound, and start all over again.
I had eaten at Grendel’s Den a couple of times before several years ago, so I was thrilled to discover that it was still there and that the food was still fairly cheap… especially for Boston. We had a nice long lunch there and then strolled around the campus for the rest of the afternoon trying to convince the kids that if they worked really hard maybe they could come here to school. None were all that impressed. Aidan said he’d never even heard of their football team. Abby and Ella cried and said they didn’t want to ever leave home. Well, I guess we won’t have to worry about paying for it. They were over it and it was time for our group to split up. Brent and the girls were going back to the campground to swim, while Aidan and I were headed up to Fenway for the game.
Aidan and I made the trip out to Fenway underground since it was a pretty hot afternoon. I felt a little guilty about him seeing so little of the city above ground, but he didn’t seem to care. Arriving at 4 for a 7 p.m. game, we had plenty of time for souvenir shopping and maybe a tour of the park, but the park tour was out once Aidan entered the mecca of hats and shirts on Yawkey Way. He spent nearly an hour picking out just the right hat, settling on the very expensive on-field wool fitted players hat. We finally had the hat in hand when he discovered the jerseys. I completely forgive him for the meltdown that followed when I told him that he simply must choose. There was no way I was buying a $40 hat AND a $60 jersey. In the end, he chose the hat; I chose a new t-shirt and we moved on to find an early dinner.
We ended up at the adjacent Game On restaurant with a fabulous booth near the windows and the enormous bank of televisions showing the World Cup match between Uruguay and Ghana. We watched the game go into extra time and finally to the penalty kicks. Unbelievable game! After eating a quick dinner, it was finally time to enter the park.
I’ll try to keep the sentimentality to a minimum, but I have to admit I wanted to cry. Fenway was as charming and quaint as ever. After passing through our gate, it took us all of 3 minutes to walk to our seats. Thanks to a friend of Dad’s, Aidan and I were sitting along the third base line about halfway up the lower bowl. The overhang shielded us from the sun and we were on an aisle!
We were early enough to the park that the Orioles were still taking b.p. when we arrived. Aidan was able to walk right up to the first row seats for an unobstructed view of the action. I took some pictures and chatted with some locals while the park finally started to fill up. We headed up a few rows to our seats and enjoyed a perfect night for a baseball game.
Tim Wakefield threw 60 mile an hour knuckleballs all night and the game simply flew by. Before we knew it, it was the 7th inning stretch and Sweet Caroline played over the speakers. Aidan and I stood to stretch and dance along with everyone else. Just then, the cameraman zooms in on us and Aidan and I made the jumbotron. I wish that moment had been captured on film because it was absolutely priceless. The cameraman zoomed in on Aidan’s face and he hammed it up for the camera. I have never seen ANYONE so happy.
In the bottom of the 8th, J.D. Drew knocked out his second homerun of the night to give the Red Sox a 2-1 lead. Papelbon was called onto the field and the crowd rose to its feet where it would remain for the rest of the game. He struck out 2 of the next 3 batters and the last one popped up for the third out. Our time at Fenway had been short and sweet. The game lasted less than 3 hours. We sat there until the park was almost empty. Why fight the crowds? Who wants to leave Fenway? Finally, Aidan and I began the walk back to the Kenmore station to catch the T. That’s when the next BIG subway moment happened…..
We were told that either track would be ok to make our way back to the Park Street station where we could pick up the red line out to Quincy. As we waited for 10 minutes in a packed and VERY hot station, train after train left from the other side bound for Newton. The crowd was getting anxious. Not a single train had come through the inbound side. Finally, we saw the lights coming down our track. YES! NO! It was only 2 cars! There were hundreds of people waiting and 2 cars! I was resigned to wait for the next one, but Aidan would have none of it. He pushed his way through that sea of people and pulled me up into the train. He has the hang of this city stuff. I was nearly panicked by my claustrophobia, but Aidan was doing ok. I couldn’t let him see me cry on the subway, could I? So I played it cool and prayed that the doors I was leaning against wouldn’t fly open as we were packed in this thing like sardines.
Next thing I know, Aidan has chatted up a very cute, very early 20’s Red Sox fan. She is making a big deal about him and flirting right back. She offered him a spot next to her, as there was a little more breathing room in her direction. Aidan let go of my hand and wiggled his way toward her. Wow! Another reason for me to cry on this stinking train!!! She held on to him around his shoulder so he wouldn’t fall or get off at the wrong stop. We agreed that she would push him out at Park Street and I would catch him. DO YOU SEE THE METAPHOR HERE? I was having a moment but so was Aidan. When we finally got to Park and out of the crowd, Aidan looked at me and said, “You think a girl like that probably already has a boyfriend, right?” Yes, Aidan, and he probably isn’t 8! “I’m sure she would like you though, son.” In the last 2 days, Aidan has made a new best friend and fallen in love… all on the T. Maybe he is destined to live in Boston or maybe he’s just nuts. ;)
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Apologies for the length... It's been a long week
I have no idea how it’s possible for 3/5 of us to have trouble sleeping tonight. It’s nearly midnight on the East Coast, and Aidan and Ella have only just now gone to sleep. I probably jinxed a good night of sleep with this simple statement: “The best part of today is that you KNOW the kids will sleep.” That was a rookie mistake, and I’m in no way a rookie. Second mistake: Make a plan to be up at 6 to catch a ferry. It’s like having an early flight. Inevitably, you fall asleep only a couple of hours before you are meant to leave.
Yesterday the kids were given a choice of the Mystic Aquarium or the Seaport and chose the Seaport. Like so many Americans, they were certainly unclear about for what they were voting; however, at the end of the day, even though they weren’t entirely impressed, they had forgotten the other candidate.
The Seaport was an “authentic” replica of a 19th century port town. Sounds great, right? It really wasn’t bad. The buildings in the seaport were all historic but were not all built in Mystic. They were “shipped” in (pardon) from around New England to recreate the town, as it would have been in the 1800’s. For a family with absolutely zero knowledge of shipbuilding, sailing, tying knots in ropes, or barrel making, it managed a score of “moderate entertainment.”
We began our tour in a confusing little barn of a museum of small wooden boats, called cats. Had it been a museum of early models of cars, I might have been able to feign some knowledge to impart to the kids; however, I was just as bewildered as the kids. Ok, so this one was sold as a kit through Sears and Roebuck in the 1930’s…. ummmmm. Once we gave up on the dark little barn of dusty old boats, we were directed to the tall ships. Whew! That was close. We almost had a mutiny on a very little Bounty.
The tall ships were open for exploration. Aidan led the way into the “hold,” or something like that, where the kitchen and bunks were located. The next ship on the dock was a replica of the slave ship Amistad, also somewhat interesting to the adults, but the kids just saw it as another opportunity to play pirate. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that the real Amistad was once a vessel of something far worse than pirates.
Following the tour of the tall ships, we strolled around the seaport village, checking out some of the historic buildings. The most interesting was the 1876 schoolhouse. Inside a man old enough to have been the first schoolmaster was giving a lesson as it would have been taught in the year the schoolhouse was built. Aidan played along, enthusiastically answering the questions in competition with the 10-year-old girl next to him….a couple of nerds… but it was cute.
After leaving the schoolhouse, we needed a break from the heat, so we sought respite in the Children’s “Museum.” Thinking we would be entering an actual museum of the seaport geared for kids, we were surprised to discover that the “museum” wasn’t really a museum at all. It was more like a pre-school classroom with ocean related puzzles and games. Initially, I was disappointed, but the kids seemed to enjoy it. Abby and Ella sat at a table and worked puzzles for a good hour before getting bored. Even Aidan was somewhat entertained by the games inside. When there were no more puzzles to complete, we moved on to the playground and the Map Room. Inside the Map Room, the kids could play with giant wall maps of the world and create their own maps to take home. Again, it was enough to hold their attention for a half an hour and gave us a break from the weather.
For me, the best part of the day came a few minutes later when we sat down to lunch at Mystic Pizza. The movie of the same name had been a favorite of mine as a teenager. I was only mildly disappointed to discover that the place plays the film on continuous loop all day, every day. Still, the pizza was a “Little Slice of Heaven.”
“Authentic replicas” aside, the town itself couldn’t have been more pleasant and all agreed that it was one of our favorite stops thus far. It didn’t hurt that Brent found a Tim Horton’s.
The next day, it was time again to pack up the camp and move on. The uneventful morning drive to Cape Cod was a breeze and we arrived at the Cape Cod Camp Resort only two hours later. This campground was even better than the last and maybe better than any since Fort Wilderness at Disney World. We checked in and were given directions to the un-hitching area where we were required to remove the tow vehicle before driving on to the back-in campsite where we would spend the next two nights.
Eager to get unhooked and parked, I jumped from the RV ready to help Brent take the Sienna off the tow dolly…maybe I should have just stayed in the rig as usual. For those of you who have seen my van, it’s obvious to even the most oblivious observer that I’m not a great driver… really, I’m not even a GOOD driver. Why I thought I should help with this unhooking is beyond me and even stranger that Brent allowed me to assist. As I began backing off the dolly, I heard a horrible noise. I looked up to see, first, the horror on Brent’s face, followed by the entire front of my van detached from the rest and left where it began… at the front of the dolly. At this point I was more than a little afraid to get out of the van, as Brent was spinning on his heels and actually punching the air. He was HOT. I quietly and calmly approached the beast with a solemn apology as he attempted to reattach the front of my car. Thankfully, it popped back into place but the plastic screws holding it on the frame were lying broken and scattered around the parking lot. I got back in the van to follow Brent to the parking spot and noticed that as he sat fuming behind the wheel that the kids were probably hearing some pretty choice vocabulary at that moment. To have been so angry and annoyed with me, Brent did manage an excellent and speedy recovery. The best part is that a day later HE accidentally backed into a concrete wall. There wasn’t any new damage, but it did provide a hearty laugh or two that even the “highwayman” can make a mistake.
Back to the night of no sleep… I knew it would happen. When the alarm went off at 6, I told Brent to forget it. The kids were still sleeping and we weren’t about to wake them. Selfishly, I wanted a little more time to rest as well. When the kids finally woke at 8, we checked the ferry schedules and devised a plan to go to Nantucket for the day; however, just before departing, we kind of chickened out. It isn’t something Brent and I do often, but not having ever been to Nantucket, we didn’t know what to expect. We had worked so hard on this trip and we kind of needed a break, so we settled on Martha’s Vineyard instead. We honeymooned there almost 9 years ago, so we had an idea of how to handle it with the kids.
Since Brent and I would be renting bikes on the island instead of paying the $130 to take the van across, we threw Aidan’s bike in the van and made our way to the ferry parking. We were directed to the “Bike Bus” since we were toting Aidan’s little Diamondback. On board, we were the only passengers on this bus. We wouldn’t be departing for 20 minutes, so we chatted with Lorraine, the animal rescuer/grandmother/ferry bus driver, who was one of the most NEW ENGLAND-ish New Englanders I have ever had the pleasure to meet. The kids didn’t quite know what to make of her frank way of speaking and she challenged everything my precocious 7 almost 8-year-old said. It was a fabulous learning experience for my little Southern boy who is hardly ever put in his place by our polite fellow Southerners. She kind of gave him hell, so to speak, and he hung in with her. For once, I saw my sweet little know-it-all humbled but in a good way. They went head to head for the entire 20 minute wait while she shared her the watermelon from her packed lunch with the girls. Lorraine was a real character and we are better for the time spent with her. She taught my kids more about New England in that brief 20 minutes than they have learned in the three days we have been here. At the end of the bus ride, she called Aidan over to her. She asked if she could give him a hug and then pulled something from her backpack. It was her part of her uniform, the baseball hat that says “Steamship Authority – M.V. and Nantucket.” She told Aidan that she never wore the hat and had been looking for the right boy to give it to. He sweetly accepted and she asked him for a hug. He obliged sweet and frank grandmother/bus driver Lorraine and departed with his bike. She told the girls that she didn’t have anything for them, but she offered them the rest of the watermelon from her lunch. This was going to be a good day.
We boarded the ferry for the 30 minute ride to the Vineyard. The weather was gorgeous, if a bit hot. We docked in Vineyard Haven and walked a couple of blocks to the famous and slightly overrated Black Dog Tavern for lunch. After lunch, we walked to the bike rental shop and arranged for 2 adult bikes and a little tow car for Abby and Ella. Clearly, I was not allowed to have any kind of association with a dolly, so Brent would be towing the girls behind his bike. Aidan would be riding his own bike.
I imagined traffic, but I imagined it a little less aggressive. I mean we were on a vacation island. Slow down, people! I started the day terrified that Aidan would wobble into traffic, but he was managing ok and THRILLED to be doing such a big kid thing as riding a bike on the ROAD. We rode about 2 miles before we took our first break at the top of Telegraph Hill. Aidan was utterly exhausted since his tiny wheels had to turn twice as fast to keep up with ours and without the benefit of shifting gears. It was also incredibly hot for M.V.
After a brief rest at the top of the hill we pedaled the next 2 miles into Oak Bluff. We briefly considered stopping there for the day and hitting the beach, but it was a bit crowded. We knew the next few miles were supposed to bring more public beach access, so we kept on going toward Edgartown. It turn out that we made an excellent choice. The next beach we came to was a relatively quiet state park. We parked the bikes and swam in the semi-frigid but shallow and calm water for about 2 hours. Here, the kids met up with some locals who showed them how to find crabs. A few minutes later, Aidan had become an expert and began terrorizing his sisters in the usual fashion.
Back on the bikes at 4:00, we realized that we hadn’t left much time for the ride back to the ferry. Another Griswold moment followed…. Sure that we could make it back to Vineyard Haven, I insisted that we pedal furiously past Oak Bluffs and up Telegraph Hill into town. After about 4 miles of absolutely killing it, Aidan’s batteries ran a little low and he bailed into the sand just on the other side of Telegraph. It was 4:37 and we could see the ferry in the distance. We abandoned hope of making it and turned around to try for the 6:15 back in Oak Bluffs, which required another trip up the hill. Aidan thought briefly of crying but held on.
The next day, today, we moved the RV just an hour up the road ro Normandy Farms Resort. This place is, by far, the nicest campground imaginable. It has 4 pools, a rec center with an indoor pool, softball fields, and a concierge. Who knew such a place existed?
After setting up camp, we jumped into the car and headed for the Quincy Adams T-stop where we could leave the van and take the train into Boston. The kids were so excited to be taking their first ever subway ride.
We spent the afternoon in Boston, first stopping at the Boston Common and then walking to Faneuil Hall. After that, we went on to our favorite part of town, the North End for dinner at Giacoma’s. The waitress, as usual at Giacoma’s, didn’t waste any time. She pressed us for our order but paused long enough to learn that Aidan’s birthday is tomorrow. Normally, I would be appalled at the singing of Happy Birthday in such a place, but Aidan was surprised beyond belief when she had the restaurant play a canned rendition of Happy Birthday as he stood for acknowledgement. That lucky kid. After a fantastic meal of linguine and clams, etc., we walked across the street to Mike’s Pastries for ice cream and the kids’ first cannoli. In terms of what we accomplished with three little kids, I would say it was a pretty darn good day.
Tomorrow, Aidan’s birthday, we plan to go back into the city for the afternoon. We have a reservation for a Tall Ship cruise in the Boston Harbor that will re-enact the ORIGINAL tea party. No jokes from my more conservative friends, please. The kids can’t wait to throw the “tea” into the harbor. Let’s just hope Sarah Palin doesn’t make an appearance.
Yesterday the kids were given a choice of the Mystic Aquarium or the Seaport and chose the Seaport. Like so many Americans, they were certainly unclear about for what they were voting; however, at the end of the day, even though they weren’t entirely impressed, they had forgotten the other candidate.
The Seaport was an “authentic” replica of a 19th century port town. Sounds great, right? It really wasn’t bad. The buildings in the seaport were all historic but were not all built in Mystic. They were “shipped” in (pardon) from around New England to recreate the town, as it would have been in the 1800’s. For a family with absolutely zero knowledge of shipbuilding, sailing, tying knots in ropes, or barrel making, it managed a score of “moderate entertainment.”
We began our tour in a confusing little barn of a museum of small wooden boats, called cats. Had it been a museum of early models of cars, I might have been able to feign some knowledge to impart to the kids; however, I was just as bewildered as the kids. Ok, so this one was sold as a kit through Sears and Roebuck in the 1930’s…. ummmmm. Once we gave up on the dark little barn of dusty old boats, we were directed to the tall ships. Whew! That was close. We almost had a mutiny on a very little Bounty.
The tall ships were open for exploration. Aidan led the way into the “hold,” or something like that, where the kitchen and bunks were located. The next ship on the dock was a replica of the slave ship Amistad, also somewhat interesting to the adults, but the kids just saw it as another opportunity to play pirate. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that the real Amistad was once a vessel of something far worse than pirates.
Following the tour of the tall ships, we strolled around the seaport village, checking out some of the historic buildings. The most interesting was the 1876 schoolhouse. Inside a man old enough to have been the first schoolmaster was giving a lesson as it would have been taught in the year the schoolhouse was built. Aidan played along, enthusiastically answering the questions in competition with the 10-year-old girl next to him….a couple of nerds… but it was cute.
After leaving the schoolhouse, we needed a break from the heat, so we sought respite in the Children’s “Museum.” Thinking we would be entering an actual museum of the seaport geared for kids, we were surprised to discover that the “museum” wasn’t really a museum at all. It was more like a pre-school classroom with ocean related puzzles and games. Initially, I was disappointed, but the kids seemed to enjoy it. Abby and Ella sat at a table and worked puzzles for a good hour before getting bored. Even Aidan was somewhat entertained by the games inside. When there were no more puzzles to complete, we moved on to the playground and the Map Room. Inside the Map Room, the kids could play with giant wall maps of the world and create their own maps to take home. Again, it was enough to hold their attention for a half an hour and gave us a break from the weather.
For me, the best part of the day came a few minutes later when we sat down to lunch at Mystic Pizza. The movie of the same name had been a favorite of mine as a teenager. I was only mildly disappointed to discover that the place plays the film on continuous loop all day, every day. Still, the pizza was a “Little Slice of Heaven.”
“Authentic replicas” aside, the town itself couldn’t have been more pleasant and all agreed that it was one of our favorite stops thus far. It didn’t hurt that Brent found a Tim Horton’s.
The next day, it was time again to pack up the camp and move on. The uneventful morning drive to Cape Cod was a breeze and we arrived at the Cape Cod Camp Resort only two hours later. This campground was even better than the last and maybe better than any since Fort Wilderness at Disney World. We checked in and were given directions to the un-hitching area where we were required to remove the tow vehicle before driving on to the back-in campsite where we would spend the next two nights.
Eager to get unhooked and parked, I jumped from the RV ready to help Brent take the Sienna off the tow dolly…maybe I should have just stayed in the rig as usual. For those of you who have seen my van, it’s obvious to even the most oblivious observer that I’m not a great driver… really, I’m not even a GOOD driver. Why I thought I should help with this unhooking is beyond me and even stranger that Brent allowed me to assist. As I began backing off the dolly, I heard a horrible noise. I looked up to see, first, the horror on Brent’s face, followed by the entire front of my van detached from the rest and left where it began… at the front of the dolly. At this point I was more than a little afraid to get out of the van, as Brent was spinning on his heels and actually punching the air. He was HOT. I quietly and calmly approached the beast with a solemn apology as he attempted to reattach the front of my car. Thankfully, it popped back into place but the plastic screws holding it on the frame were lying broken and scattered around the parking lot. I got back in the van to follow Brent to the parking spot and noticed that as he sat fuming behind the wheel that the kids were probably hearing some pretty choice vocabulary at that moment. To have been so angry and annoyed with me, Brent did manage an excellent and speedy recovery. The best part is that a day later HE accidentally backed into a concrete wall. There wasn’t any new damage, but it did provide a hearty laugh or two that even the “highwayman” can make a mistake.
Back to the night of no sleep… I knew it would happen. When the alarm went off at 6, I told Brent to forget it. The kids were still sleeping and we weren’t about to wake them. Selfishly, I wanted a little more time to rest as well. When the kids finally woke at 8, we checked the ferry schedules and devised a plan to go to Nantucket for the day; however, just before departing, we kind of chickened out. It isn’t something Brent and I do often, but not having ever been to Nantucket, we didn’t know what to expect. We had worked so hard on this trip and we kind of needed a break, so we settled on Martha’s Vineyard instead. We honeymooned there almost 9 years ago, so we had an idea of how to handle it with the kids.
Since Brent and I would be renting bikes on the island instead of paying the $130 to take the van across, we threw Aidan’s bike in the van and made our way to the ferry parking. We were directed to the “Bike Bus” since we were toting Aidan’s little Diamondback. On board, we were the only passengers on this bus. We wouldn’t be departing for 20 minutes, so we chatted with Lorraine, the animal rescuer/grandmother/ferry bus driver, who was one of the most NEW ENGLAND-ish New Englanders I have ever had the pleasure to meet. The kids didn’t quite know what to make of her frank way of speaking and she challenged everything my precocious 7 almost 8-year-old said. It was a fabulous learning experience for my little Southern boy who is hardly ever put in his place by our polite fellow Southerners. She kind of gave him hell, so to speak, and he hung in with her. For once, I saw my sweet little know-it-all humbled but in a good way. They went head to head for the entire 20 minute wait while she shared her the watermelon from her packed lunch with the girls. Lorraine was a real character and we are better for the time spent with her. She taught my kids more about New England in that brief 20 minutes than they have learned in the three days we have been here. At the end of the bus ride, she called Aidan over to her. She asked if she could give him a hug and then pulled something from her backpack. It was her part of her uniform, the baseball hat that says “Steamship Authority – M.V. and Nantucket.” She told Aidan that she never wore the hat and had been looking for the right boy to give it to. He sweetly accepted and she asked him for a hug. He obliged sweet and frank grandmother/bus driver Lorraine and departed with his bike. She told the girls that she didn’t have anything for them, but she offered them the rest of the watermelon from her lunch. This was going to be a good day.
We boarded the ferry for the 30 minute ride to the Vineyard. The weather was gorgeous, if a bit hot. We docked in Vineyard Haven and walked a couple of blocks to the famous and slightly overrated Black Dog Tavern for lunch. After lunch, we walked to the bike rental shop and arranged for 2 adult bikes and a little tow car for Abby and Ella. Clearly, I was not allowed to have any kind of association with a dolly, so Brent would be towing the girls behind his bike. Aidan would be riding his own bike.
I imagined traffic, but I imagined it a little less aggressive. I mean we were on a vacation island. Slow down, people! I started the day terrified that Aidan would wobble into traffic, but he was managing ok and THRILLED to be doing such a big kid thing as riding a bike on the ROAD. We rode about 2 miles before we took our first break at the top of Telegraph Hill. Aidan was utterly exhausted since his tiny wheels had to turn twice as fast to keep up with ours and without the benefit of shifting gears. It was also incredibly hot for M.V.
After a brief rest at the top of the hill we pedaled the next 2 miles into Oak Bluff. We briefly considered stopping there for the day and hitting the beach, but it was a bit crowded. We knew the next few miles were supposed to bring more public beach access, so we kept on going toward Edgartown. It turn out that we made an excellent choice. The next beach we came to was a relatively quiet state park. We parked the bikes and swam in the semi-frigid but shallow and calm water for about 2 hours. Here, the kids met up with some locals who showed them how to find crabs. A few minutes later, Aidan had become an expert and began terrorizing his sisters in the usual fashion.
Back on the bikes at 4:00, we realized that we hadn’t left much time for the ride back to the ferry. Another Griswold moment followed…. Sure that we could make it back to Vineyard Haven, I insisted that we pedal furiously past Oak Bluffs and up Telegraph Hill into town. After about 4 miles of absolutely killing it, Aidan’s batteries ran a little low and he bailed into the sand just on the other side of Telegraph. It was 4:37 and we could see the ferry in the distance. We abandoned hope of making it and turned around to try for the 6:15 back in Oak Bluffs, which required another trip up the hill. Aidan thought briefly of crying but held on.
The next day, today, we moved the RV just an hour up the road ro Normandy Farms Resort. This place is, by far, the nicest campground imaginable. It has 4 pools, a rec center with an indoor pool, softball fields, and a concierge. Who knew such a place existed?
After setting up camp, we jumped into the car and headed for the Quincy Adams T-stop where we could leave the van and take the train into Boston. The kids were so excited to be taking their first ever subway ride.
We spent the afternoon in Boston, first stopping at the Boston Common and then walking to Faneuil Hall. After that, we went on to our favorite part of town, the North End for dinner at Giacoma’s. The waitress, as usual at Giacoma’s, didn’t waste any time. She pressed us for our order but paused long enough to learn that Aidan’s birthday is tomorrow. Normally, I would be appalled at the singing of Happy Birthday in such a place, but Aidan was surprised beyond belief when she had the restaurant play a canned rendition of Happy Birthday as he stood for acknowledgement. That lucky kid. After a fantastic meal of linguine and clams, etc., we walked across the street to Mike’s Pastries for ice cream and the kids’ first cannoli. In terms of what we accomplished with three little kids, I would say it was a pretty darn good day.
Tomorrow, Aidan’s birthday, we plan to go back into the city for the afternoon. We have a reservation for a Tall Ship cruise in the Boston Harbor that will re-enact the ORIGINAL tea party. No jokes from my more conservative friends, please. The kids can’t wait to throw the “tea” into the harbor. Let’s just hope Sarah Palin doesn’t make an appearance.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Mystic: Finally in New England
After a 7 hour dive through some seriously heavy traffic and truly horrible road conditions, we finally made it to New England. So far, it was totally worth the trip. We rolled up to the KOA well before sunset with enough time to set up camp and make our way over to Noark, Connecticut, for what will surely be one of our most memorable family meals. Relying on a recommendation from Fodor's for a lobster "shack" right on the water, we couldn't resist. The guidebook said "Be prepared to ask directions," but they clearly weren't writing it for Brent. He had no trouble at all.
The line in front of the shack snaked on for several feet. We were about 30 people deep, but the lobster pots entertained the kids while the billboard sized menu kept us contemplating the simple but enticing selection of seafood for the entire 20 minutes that we waited. Finally, we made our way to the ordering window. We settled on a 3 lb. steamed lobster, a pound of steamed mussles, 2 bowls of chowder, corn on the cob, and two pb&js for the girls. We were given a number and pointed in the direction of the picnic tables out back right along the beach. We didn't have to wait long for the food. The mussles and sandwiches came out first. Abby and Ella would have no part of the seafood, but Aidan was a more than willing participant. He eagerly tasted his mussel and declared it the best food he had ever eaten and New England the best place he had ever been. Right then, he decided that he would someday live here. I can't blame him a bit.
30 minutes later, our steamed lobster was ready. The girls screamed in absolute horror as we picked the sweet meat from the claws. Aidan, seizing an opportunity, grabbed a claw and chased his sisters around the outdoor dining area. The place was nothing more than a yard full of plastic picnic tables, so we thought WHY NOT? It really was funny.
The combination of al fresco dining plus fantastic weather plus affordable lobster created a perfect night. So far Mystic is a keeper.
Tomorrow we will be touring the tall ships in the harbor as well as the Mystic Aquarium. Stay tuned and good night from New England.
The line in front of the shack snaked on for several feet. We were about 30 people deep, but the lobster pots entertained the kids while the billboard sized menu kept us contemplating the simple but enticing selection of seafood for the entire 20 minutes that we waited. Finally, we made our way to the ordering window. We settled on a 3 lb. steamed lobster, a pound of steamed mussles, 2 bowls of chowder, corn on the cob, and two pb&js for the girls. We were given a number and pointed in the direction of the picnic tables out back right along the beach. We didn't have to wait long for the food. The mussles and sandwiches came out first. Abby and Ella would have no part of the seafood, but Aidan was a more than willing participant. He eagerly tasted his mussel and declared it the best food he had ever eaten and New England the best place he had ever been. Right then, he decided that he would someday live here. I can't blame him a bit.
30 minutes later, our steamed lobster was ready. The girls screamed in absolute horror as we picked the sweet meat from the claws. Aidan, seizing an opportunity, grabbed a claw and chased his sisters around the outdoor dining area. The place was nothing more than a yard full of plastic picnic tables, so we thought WHY NOT? It really was funny.
The combination of al fresco dining plus fantastic weather plus affordable lobster created a perfect night. So far Mystic is a keeper.
Tomorrow we will be touring the tall ships in the harbor as well as the Mystic Aquarium. Stay tuned and good night from New England.
Additional highlights from Washington and Gettysburg
As I stated in my previous post, I write these entries usually late at night after the kids have been tucked in for the night. This morning's post was the perfect example. After reading it this morning, I realized that I left out so many other great sights from Wednesday's touring.
After cooling off in the Natural History Museum, we felt refreshed enough to make another attempt on the Mall with the goal of reaching the Lincoln Memorial before anyone passed out. On the way, we paused to take pictures of the White House. Abby and Ella were thrilled to discover that an "alive guy" lives there but even more excited to see where "Rock o'Bama" lives.
We continued on with the Washington Monument just to our left. As we approached the WWII memorial, we could see a crowd of people gathered in the middle. Just then I realized that we had stumbled upon one of those services honoring the aging veterans of "The Great War." The veterans, mostly in wheelchairs, were lined up with their backs to the memorial. There in front of them was a color guard comprised of representatives from each of the branches of the military. A Marine played taps while an elderly female veteran placed a wreath on the plaza. I have to admit that it was hard not to tear up. I thought of my own grandfather, Ikie, and his years of service as a Marine in the South Pacific. I wish that he had lived to see this memorial and to have been honored there with his fellow servicemen and women.
When the service ended, I grabbed Aidan and took him forward toward the honorees to shake the hands of as many of the veterans as we could. I was really proud of Aidan. He handled the situation so well. I think he understood what we were doing and why. Meanwhile, the girls waded in the fountain right beside the sign that said, "No Wading." Oh, well.
Satisfied that we had spent enough time there, we got back on the trail for the Lincoln Memorial. At this point, Abby was absolutely losing it. Her alter-ego, "The Hornet," had once again emerged. She was yelling at all of us and thrashing about in the stroller. Ella, tired of being elbowed during Abby's fits, decided to abandon ship and hoof it with Aidan. They climbed the steps of the memorial as the heat rose off of the sun-baked marble. It was like walking on a hot plate. When we got to the top, Aidan turned around and noted that Martin Luther King, Jr., made his speech from these steps and that Lincoln who freed the slaves was right behind him (sweetie). Ella, on the other hand, was utterly exasperated and said, "Awww, it's another DEAD GUY! Let's go!"
We walked around the monument, grateful for the shade inside, while Aidan took pictures and read the inscriptions. He's such a little nerd and I couldn't be more proud. Once Aidan had his fill, we decided to head over to the refreshment kiosk for some water, but this wasn't just ANY National Park refreshment stand! They also served beer. Nice. 2, please. We took a break under and umbrella and made a toast to ourselves. I mean, we deserved it, right? We just pushed 80 pounds of whining, wiggling, flip-flop dropping, tantrum throwing, "Dead Guy" hating, 4-year-olds, and one question asking precocious almost-8-year-old the length of the National Mall in a heat index above 100. Yes, Cheers to us!
Feeling much better, it was time to start the trek back, by way of the the Korean War Memorial. Once again, we all thought of Ikie as he was a veteran of that war as well. The statues were "dressed" and sculpted as if in action. It was a very tangible way for Aidan to imagine what Ikie would have been wearing and what the weather must have been like there.
Finally, we were through with the Mall and headed for the car for the ride out to Sara's house. I was grateful to not have to think about dinner tonight or cleaning up the mess after. Sara, if you are reading this, thanks again. It was so great to meet your family and to reconnect with you.
In my last post, you will read about Thursday morning... I know, things are a bit disorganized. No matter... it's the perfect metaphor for DC.
On Friday morning, we packed up camp and headed for Gettysburg a short hour and a half away. We arrived at the Drummer Boy RV Campground by noon where we were informed that due to our early arrival, we would be charged a $25 fee. It's hard to imagine why we would be charged an early check-in time for a gravel drive-way in the woods, but there was nothing we could do short of turning the bus around and parking in a Wal-Mart for the next 3 hours. In the end, we decided to fork over the money, suck it up, and set up camp. After lunch, we would have a long day of touring. No one liked the prospect of having to do all the hook-ups after that kind of day.
Gettysburg National Park, despite what naysayers suggest, is absolutely worth seeing; however, I will admit that the brand new, gorgeous, state of the art visitors center certainly adds to the appeal. While the park itself is free, the movie, museum, and access to the cyclorama are not. For a nominal fee, we purchased tickets to all three. The museum was utterly packed with relics of the war; guns, buttons, coats, documents, and flags were all very well displayed. Again, Aidan was eating it up. The girls loved the touch screen computers.
On the advice of our friend, Colonel Burton, we purchased the slightly pricey audio cd tour of the battlefield. We were assured that it would be worth the cost; indeed, it was. The cd is timed within seconds to match the stops of the auto tour of Gettysburg. Along the drive, the narrator describes in great detail the history of the great battle making visualization possible even for Aidan. Every few yards, we would stop the cd and take an opportunity to walk along the pathways lined with markers honoring the various regiments, soldiers, and generals. It's truly hard to describe the beauty of the landscape here and seeing the great open fields dotted with memorials to fallen soldiers was so moving. Good thing we had the kids with us to lighten the moment. Back in the museum gift shop, we purchased Aidan's first-ever toy gun. Having been opposed to the idea for nearly 8 years, I finally caved... When in Rome, I guess... or Gettysburg. That gun has been the greatest thing ever, by Aidan's own admission. He joyfully jumped from the car at the auto tour stops and pretended to be a soldier, crouching along the stone fences and ducking behind boulders. Even I have to admit, that it was pretty cute. Maybe the gun increased his interest in learning about the battle. By the end of the tour, he could answer all kinds of questions he would only know from listening to the tour. It worked!
We decided not to make dinner tonight but to take our chances in the adorable town. The square reminded me of Franklin twenty years ago. It was quaint, but the tourists filled up the sidewalks and kept the shops open. We settled on the English pub, MacClellan's. It appeared to be a stand alone pub, but once inside, we discovered it was part of the Gettysburg Hotel. It was our second big mistake of the day (more on the first later). Never trust a fake English pub attached to a hotel. It's going to be overpriced and phony. Oh, well....
I failed to mention how our day in Gettysburg began. Some of you will recall our mishaps with glass last summer. Well, it happened again. When we arrived at Dummer Boy, I opened a kitchen cabinet only to be nearly knocked out by a falling wine bottle. Luckily, it narrowly missed my head but crashed onto the ceramic tile floor exploding into a million pieces and splashing a cheap but delicious cabernet all over the floor. As I bent to begin cleaning it up, the wine started to disappear. Oh, NO, where is it going????!!! Just then, Brent started yelling from the outside something like this, "WHY THE HELL IS RED WINE LEAKING DOWN THE SIDE OF THE RV?" Yikes. The wine had leaked out through the cracks and was filling the storage compartment underneath with what would later become a sticky, smelly, jam. Once again, one of the kids saved the day with something funny. Aidan declared the RV, the "Mega Poop (our van has always been known as the Poop for its less than fresh smell). After that, all we could do was laugh and enjoy the day. As Leigh once said, "Those we're all in this together vacations you take really bond a family." I sure hope so.
Currently, we are driving through Pennsylvania, en route to New England. Tonight, we will be camping on the Connecticut coast, but for now, we are enjoying the lovely Pennsylvania scenery. Today's route has taken us past some truly beautiful farmland and past the surprisingly lovely city of Harrisburg. The kids are being really good and we'll be in CT by 4. Everything is wonderful except for one thing... the U.S. is playing today at 2:30. Normally, this isn't a problem as we have Direct TV in the coach. The bad news is that it is being broadcast on ABC instead of ESPN. We don't get the "local" channels! This is unacceptable. We might just have to look for a roadside sports bar. Stay tuned.
After cooling off in the Natural History Museum, we felt refreshed enough to make another attempt on the Mall with the goal of reaching the Lincoln Memorial before anyone passed out. On the way, we paused to take pictures of the White House. Abby and Ella were thrilled to discover that an "alive guy" lives there but even more excited to see where "Rock o'Bama" lives.
We continued on with the Washington Monument just to our left. As we approached the WWII memorial, we could see a crowd of people gathered in the middle. Just then I realized that we had stumbled upon one of those services honoring the aging veterans of "The Great War." The veterans, mostly in wheelchairs, were lined up with their backs to the memorial. There in front of them was a color guard comprised of representatives from each of the branches of the military. A Marine played taps while an elderly female veteran placed a wreath on the plaza. I have to admit that it was hard not to tear up. I thought of my own grandfather, Ikie, and his years of service as a Marine in the South Pacific. I wish that he had lived to see this memorial and to have been honored there with his fellow servicemen and women.
When the service ended, I grabbed Aidan and took him forward toward the honorees to shake the hands of as many of the veterans as we could. I was really proud of Aidan. He handled the situation so well. I think he understood what we were doing and why. Meanwhile, the girls waded in the fountain right beside the sign that said, "No Wading." Oh, well.
Satisfied that we had spent enough time there, we got back on the trail for the Lincoln Memorial. At this point, Abby was absolutely losing it. Her alter-ego, "The Hornet," had once again emerged. She was yelling at all of us and thrashing about in the stroller. Ella, tired of being elbowed during Abby's fits, decided to abandon ship and hoof it with Aidan. They climbed the steps of the memorial as the heat rose off of the sun-baked marble. It was like walking on a hot plate. When we got to the top, Aidan turned around and noted that Martin Luther King, Jr., made his speech from these steps and that Lincoln who freed the slaves was right behind him (sweetie). Ella, on the other hand, was utterly exasperated and said, "Awww, it's another DEAD GUY! Let's go!"
We walked around the monument, grateful for the shade inside, while Aidan took pictures and read the inscriptions. He's such a little nerd and I couldn't be more proud. Once Aidan had his fill, we decided to head over to the refreshment kiosk for some water, but this wasn't just ANY National Park refreshment stand! They also served beer. Nice. 2, please. We took a break under and umbrella and made a toast to ourselves. I mean, we deserved it, right? We just pushed 80 pounds of whining, wiggling, flip-flop dropping, tantrum throwing, "Dead Guy" hating, 4-year-olds, and one question asking precocious almost-8-year-old the length of the National Mall in a heat index above 100. Yes, Cheers to us!
Feeling much better, it was time to start the trek back, by way of the the Korean War Memorial. Once again, we all thought of Ikie as he was a veteran of that war as well. The statues were "dressed" and sculpted as if in action. It was a very tangible way for Aidan to imagine what Ikie would have been wearing and what the weather must have been like there.
Finally, we were through with the Mall and headed for the car for the ride out to Sara's house. I was grateful to not have to think about dinner tonight or cleaning up the mess after. Sara, if you are reading this, thanks again. It was so great to meet your family and to reconnect with you.
In my last post, you will read about Thursday morning... I know, things are a bit disorganized. No matter... it's the perfect metaphor for DC.
On Friday morning, we packed up camp and headed for Gettysburg a short hour and a half away. We arrived at the Drummer Boy RV Campground by noon where we were informed that due to our early arrival, we would be charged a $25 fee. It's hard to imagine why we would be charged an early check-in time for a gravel drive-way in the woods, but there was nothing we could do short of turning the bus around and parking in a Wal-Mart for the next 3 hours. In the end, we decided to fork over the money, suck it up, and set up camp. After lunch, we would have a long day of touring. No one liked the prospect of having to do all the hook-ups after that kind of day.
Gettysburg National Park, despite what naysayers suggest, is absolutely worth seeing; however, I will admit that the brand new, gorgeous, state of the art visitors center certainly adds to the appeal. While the park itself is free, the movie, museum, and access to the cyclorama are not. For a nominal fee, we purchased tickets to all three. The museum was utterly packed with relics of the war; guns, buttons, coats, documents, and flags were all very well displayed. Again, Aidan was eating it up. The girls loved the touch screen computers.
On the advice of our friend, Colonel Burton, we purchased the slightly pricey audio cd tour of the battlefield. We were assured that it would be worth the cost; indeed, it was. The cd is timed within seconds to match the stops of the auto tour of Gettysburg. Along the drive, the narrator describes in great detail the history of the great battle making visualization possible even for Aidan. Every few yards, we would stop the cd and take an opportunity to walk along the pathways lined with markers honoring the various regiments, soldiers, and generals. It's truly hard to describe the beauty of the landscape here and seeing the great open fields dotted with memorials to fallen soldiers was so moving. Good thing we had the kids with us to lighten the moment. Back in the museum gift shop, we purchased Aidan's first-ever toy gun. Having been opposed to the idea for nearly 8 years, I finally caved... When in Rome, I guess... or Gettysburg. That gun has been the greatest thing ever, by Aidan's own admission. He joyfully jumped from the car at the auto tour stops and pretended to be a soldier, crouching along the stone fences and ducking behind boulders. Even I have to admit, that it was pretty cute. Maybe the gun increased his interest in learning about the battle. By the end of the tour, he could answer all kinds of questions he would only know from listening to the tour. It worked!
We decided not to make dinner tonight but to take our chances in the adorable town. The square reminded me of Franklin twenty years ago. It was quaint, but the tourists filled up the sidewalks and kept the shops open. We settled on the English pub, MacClellan's. It appeared to be a stand alone pub, but once inside, we discovered it was part of the Gettysburg Hotel. It was our second big mistake of the day (more on the first later). Never trust a fake English pub attached to a hotel. It's going to be overpriced and phony. Oh, well....
I failed to mention how our day in Gettysburg began. Some of you will recall our mishaps with glass last summer. Well, it happened again. When we arrived at Dummer Boy, I opened a kitchen cabinet only to be nearly knocked out by a falling wine bottle. Luckily, it narrowly missed my head but crashed onto the ceramic tile floor exploding into a million pieces and splashing a cheap but delicious cabernet all over the floor. As I bent to begin cleaning it up, the wine started to disappear. Oh, NO, where is it going????!!! Just then, Brent started yelling from the outside something like this, "WHY THE HELL IS RED WINE LEAKING DOWN THE SIDE OF THE RV?" Yikes. The wine had leaked out through the cracks and was filling the storage compartment underneath with what would later become a sticky, smelly, jam. Once again, one of the kids saved the day with something funny. Aidan declared the RV, the "Mega Poop (our van has always been known as the Poop for its less than fresh smell). After that, all we could do was laugh and enjoy the day. As Leigh once said, "Those we're all in this together vacations you take really bond a family." I sure hope so.
Currently, we are driving through Pennsylvania, en route to New England. Tonight, we will be camping on the Connecticut coast, but for now, we are enjoying the lovely Pennsylvania scenery. Today's route has taken us past some truly beautiful farmland and past the surprisingly lovely city of Harrisburg. The kids are being really good and we'll be in CT by 4. Everything is wonderful except for one thing... the U.S. is playing today at 2:30. Normally, this isn't a problem as we have Direct TV in the coach. The bad news is that it is being broadcast on ABC instead of ESPN. We don't get the "local" channels! This is unacceptable. We might just have to look for a roadside sports bar. Stay tuned.
Dead Guy Tour
I had hoped to write an account of each day in DC, since we will more than likely forget the little things that make traveling with a gaggle of kids entertaining, but DC won. I was too exhausted at the end of each day to even consider thinking and reflecting, so what follows will be my best effort to recall our time in DC.
Our first day of sightseeing in DC began around 9 a.m. Super driver, Brent, somehow managed to find his way to a parking space on the Capitol end of the Mall. The temperature was already in the 90’s and the humidity was unreal. We struggled to push our 40 lb. nearly 5-year-old twins up the hill in their double stroller (that’s 80 pounds uphill on a day with a heat index of 100 by 9 a.m.). Finally, we reached the Capitol plaza. Aidan was truly impressed and paused to take pictures and look down the Mall with his binoculars while the girls were merely interested in whether this was yet another “dead guy’s” house.
The tour continued down the Mall toward the Washington Monument, but the heat was really starting to get to all of us. We turned in toward the Archives, well aware that we would wait for up to an hour to see the famous documents. I had no idea that we could have arranged a date and time for our tour online. Of course, this discovery totally annoyed me for more reasons than one. I am obsessively prepared for travel with these kids. I usually have every move we make planned, but I was planning for the old Washington, the one where everyone waits in line to see our historical treasures. After finding that I could have made a reservation (but only months in advance), I just couldn’t stomach the wait… standing there like a sucker in 100 degree heat was beyond my threshold for humility; however, I just couldn’t fathom how one could plan to be someplace at an exact time months before one even arrived. What will you be doing at 9 a.m. on December 10th,? You don’t know! It’s impossible and ridiculous. I tried very hard not to make a connection to the absurdity of other redundant and sometimes ridiculous Washington bureaucratic policies. Annoyed, we stopped in a shady spot to eat our picnic lunch then ducked into the Museum of Natural History to see the dinosaur bones and enjoy the refreshment of air conditioning.
That night we were invited to join my friend, Sara, and her family out in Alexandria for dinner. It had been almost 4 years since we had seen each other, but it didn’t take long to get reacquainted. We all had a great time and enjoyed the brief time away from touring and camping, touring and camping.
Thursday morning, we had to make good time to see what was left on the already failure of an itinerary I created. We started at Mt. Vernon because it was the farthest South, and we had no intention of heading back in that direction for another week and a half. WE simply must escape this heat. We arrived around 10, and the heat was already daring us to give up and turn back like NORMAL people… alas, normal, we are not. We pressed on to the historic mansion of our nation’s first president….. or as Ella and Abby said with tears as we approached “another DEAD GUY’s house! WHY ARE WE GOING BACK TO A DEAD GUY’S HOUSE?” I really couldn’t answer that… ummm,,, because that’s what people do?
The kids managed not to melt down completely and we survived another 30 minute tour through a mansion with 3 foot-wide-hallways in 100 plus degree heat. These kids really are troopers. As we exited the mansion and headed downhill with the stroller and 80 pounds worth of kids, I couldn’t help but to feel sorry for Brent who would be pushing them back uphill in less than an hour. It will undoubtedly be only hotter by then.
Even if you ask Brent, I think he would agree that the gravesite of President Washington and his First Lady was well worth it. As we made the push back up the hill, the kids finally started to complain in earnest. They were all hungry and tired. I can’t blame them. We decided to pay the extra cost of eating there on the property than to chance hitting a traffic jam with hungry kids. We were pleasantly surprised to discover that the food at the “Inn” was really quite good; of course, the best part of the meal was the ice cold beer that we allowed ourselves after an afternoon of educating our kids in what was undoubtedly the hottest weather I have ever experienced. We took our time enjoying the lunch and ended the meal with apple pie (What’s more American, right?). Clearly, we have NOT been fulfilling our duties as parents when I realized that my kids had never had apple pie. What kind of Americans are we? Just then I realized that it was all ok. Brent isn’t American! That’s my excuse.
After lunch, we headed back to town. We wanted to see the Air & Space Museum. As we were driving, I had the GRAND idea of stopping at Arlington, since it was on the way back. It was quite a trip back as we sat in traffic next to Reagen National as the jets roared toward the runway just to our right. With nothing but a bag of pretzels to entertain the kids, I knew we were taking a huge gamble with pretzels and no water, and I couldn’t help but recalling the episode of Seinfeld when Kramer practiced saying, “These pretzels are making me THIRSTY!”
When we finally arrived at Arlington, only Abby and Aidan were awake, so Brent gallantly offered to wait in the car with her ;). Abby and Aidan and I got out of the car with the earnest hope of making it to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Unwilling to pay for the tram, we took off on foot for the Eternal Flame at the Kennedy graves. After the steep climb to the flame, I tried to explain the Kennedy presidency to my near 8-year-old as Abby looked on with an expression that said, “ We walked up her for another dead guy, Mom.” It was then I realized that this trip was for her a very different animal.. something akin to torture. Aidan and I agreed that it was too hot for the rest of the climb up to the tomb and headed back for the car. They are young. There is time for that in 8th grade when they make the trip in MARCH. Sweatshirts are better than this heat.
Back in DC, we agreed to meet up with Jeanna and little Ella at the carousel on the Mall. We were only there long enough to buy 3 rides on the merry-go-round and three more beers… one for Brent and myself and one for Jeanna. It was a lovely way to spend an hour in DC, and the kids enjoyed the breeze created by the carousel.
The next day, today, was a Friday. We contemplated a visit to the Pentagon to visit a friend, a Colonel in Army stationed there, but we just couldn’t muster the strength. We decided, instead, to make a break for Gettysburg. Although we were disappointed to not see my uncle’s dear friend, we were more than pleased with the decision in the end. Gettysburg was an incredible experience. I feel that there is so much to say, but no way to say it with the elegance it requires. Suffice it to say, Gettysburg was an incredible experience that I recommend, wholeheartedly, to anyone. It was beautiful, majestic, and beautifully organized. With three kids, ease and organization are huge. Gettysburg was all of those things and more.
For the next few days, we are off the dead guy tour. Next stop is Mystic, Connecticut, where we plan to hang on the beach and eat some seafood.
As always, thanks for reading…. More from the COAST!
P.S. Please excuse any spelling and/or grammatical errors. Most of this is written late at night or while riding in a moving RV while kids shout for my attention. I'm not really an idiot.
I had hoped to write an account of each day in DC, since we will more than likely forget the little things that make traveling with a gaggle of kids entertaining, but DC won. I was too exhausted at the end of each day to even consider thinking and reflecting, so what follows will be my best effort to recall our time in DC.
Our first day of sightseeing in DC began around 9 a.m. Super driver, Brent, somehow managed to find his way to a parking space on the Capitol end of the Mall. The temperature was already in the 90’s and the humidity was unreal. We struggled to push our 40 lb. nearly 5-year-old twins up the hill in their double stroller (that’s 80 pounds uphill on a day with a heat index of 100 by 9 a.m.). Finally, we reached the Capitol plaza. Aidan was truly impressed and paused to take pictures and look down the Mall with his binoculars while the girls were merely interested in whether this was yet another “dead guy’s” house.
The tour continued down the Mall toward the Washington Monument, but the heat was really starting to get to all of us. We turned in toward the Archives, well aware that we would wait for up to an hour to see the famous documents. I had no idea that we could have arranged a date and time for our tour online. Of course, this discovery totally annoyed me for more reasons than one. I am obsessively prepared for travel with these kids. I usually have every move we make planned, but I was planning for the old Washington, the one where everyone waits in line to see our historical treasures. After finding that I could have made a reservation (but only months in advance), I just couldn’t stomach the wait… standing there like a sucker in 100 degree heat was beyond my threshold for humility; however, I just couldn’t fathom how one could plan to be someplace at an exact time months before one even arrived. What will you be doing at 9 a.m. on December 10th,? You don’t know! It’s impossible and ridiculous. I tried very hard not to make a connection to the absurdity of other redundant and sometimes ridiculous Washington bureaucratic policies. Annoyed, we stopped in a shady spot to eat our picnic lunch then ducked into the Museum of Natural History to see the dinosaur bones and enjoy the refreshment of air conditioning.
That night we were invited to join my friend, Sara, and her family out in Alexandria for dinner. It had been almost 4 years since we had seen each other, but it didn’t take long to get reacquainted. We all had a great time and enjoyed the brief time away from touring and camping, touring and camping.
Thursday morning, we had to make good time to see what was left on the already failure of an itinerary I created. We started at Mt. Vernon because it was the farthest South, and we had no intention of heading back in that direction for another week and a half. WE simply must escape this heat. We arrived around 10, and the heat was already daring us to give up and turn back like NORMAL people… alas, normal, we are not. We pressed on to the historic mansion of our nation’s first president….. or as Ella and Abby said with tears as we approached “another DEAD GUY’s house! WHY ARE WE GOING BACK TO A DEAD GUY’S HOUSE?” I really couldn’t answer that… ummm,,, because that’s what people do?
The kids managed not to melt down completely and we survived another 30 minute tour through a mansion with 3 foot-wide-hallways in 100 plus degree heat. These kids really are troopers. As we exited the mansion and headed downhill with the stroller and 80 pounds worth of kids, I couldn’t help but to feel sorry for Brent who would be pushing them back uphill in less than an hour. It will undoubtedly be only hotter by then.
Even if you ask Brent, I think he would agree that the gravesite of President Washington and his First Lady was well worth it. As we made the push back up the hill, the kids finally started to complain in earnest. They were all hungry and tired. I can’t blame them. We decided to pay the extra cost of eating there on the property than to chance hitting a traffic jam with hungry kids. We were pleasantly surprised to discover that the food at the “Inn” was really quite good; of course, the best part of the meal was the ice cold beer that we allowed ourselves after an afternoon of educating our kids in what was undoubtedly the hottest weather I have ever experienced. We took our time enjoying the lunch and ended the meal with apple pie (What’s more American, right?). Clearly, we have NOT been fulfilling our duties as parents when I realized that my kids had never had apple pie. What kind of Americans are we? Just then I realized that it was all ok. Brent isn’t American! That’s my excuse.
After lunch, we headed back to town. We wanted to see the Air & Space Museum. As we were driving, I had the GRAND idea of stopping at Arlington, since it was on the way back. It was quite a trip back as we sat in traffic next to Reagen National as the jets roared toward the runway just to our right. With nothing but a bag of pretzels to entertain the kids, I knew we were taking a huge gamble with pretzels and no water, and I couldn’t help but recalling the episode of Seinfeld when Kramer practiced saying, “These pretzels are making me THIRSTY!”
When we finally arrived at Arlington, only Abby and Aidan were awake, so Brent gallantly offered to wait in the car with her ;). Abby and Aidan and I got out of the car with the earnest hope of making it to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Unwilling to pay for the tram, we took off on foot for the Eternal Flame at the Kennedy graves. After the steep climb to the flame, I tried to explain the Kennedy presidency to my near 8-year-old as Abby looked on with an expression that said, “ We walked up her for another dead guy, Mom.” It was then I realized that this trip was for her a very different animal.. something akin to torture. Aidan and I agreed that it was too hot for the rest of the climb up to the tomb and headed back for the car. They are young. There is time for that in 8th grade when they make the trip in MARCH. Sweatshirts are better than this heat.
Back in DC, we agreed to meet up with Jeanna and little Ella at the carousel on the Mall. We were only there long enough to buy 3 rides on the merry-go-round and three more beers… one for Brent and myself and one for Jeanna. It was a lovely way to spend an hour in DC, and the kids enjoyed the breeze created by the carousel.
The next day, today, was a Friday. We contemplated a visit to the Pentagon to visit a friend, a Colonel in Army stationed there, but we just couldn’t muster the strength. We decided, instead, to make a break for Gettysburg. Although we were disappointed to not see my uncle’s dear friend, we were more than pleased with the decision in the end. Gettysburg was an incredible experience. I feel that there is so much to say, but no way to say it with the elegance it requires. Suffice it to say, Gettysburg was an incredible experience that I recommend, wholeheartedly, to anyone. It was beautiful, majestic, and beautifully organized. With three kids, ease and organization are huge. Gettysburg was all of those things and more.
For the next few days, we are off the dead guy tour. Next stop is Mystic, Connecticut, where we plan to hang on the beach and eat some seafood.
As always, thanks for reading…. More from the COAST!
P.S. Please excuse any spelling and/or grammatical errors. Most of this is written late at night or while riding in a moving RV while kids shout for my attention. I'm not really an idiot.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Day 3
We knew it was a possibility… late night wiffle ball and bike rides increase the chances of the rare kiki sleep-in at least ten fold. I woke this morning to a very sweet, very smiley Ella. She was just sitting on the couch, apparently watching me sleep. Abby and Aidan slept almost a half hour later than Ella waking around 8:30. You must understand… my kids don’t sleep after 8! We were on a schedule. We needed to leave the park by 8 to make the 10 tour of Monticello in time to make it to Mt. Vernon by 2.
After scrambling to get breakfast prepared and a coffee poured, I decided to relax. If we don’t get it all done… we don’t get it all done. What a novel concept for a vacation! Instead of rushing off to make both historic homes today, we gambled… maybe we make it, maybe we don’t.
Finally, around 11, we arrived at Monticello. Brent was forced to employ his super skills when navigating the RV up the narrow and winding, heavily shaded “path” to the grounds. As I assured him that surely busses make this journey all day, I could see the disbelief build with every drop of sweat that accumulated on his brow. Just when I thought even The Highwayman could falter, we saw a clearing ahead and pulled into a spot. Having the tow car has been a blessing thus far, but we are learning some things about towing. None of the spots were pull-through. You can’t back up with a Toyota Sienna on a dolly behind you. Oh, well, we would worry about that later. In the meantime, we left the rig with the Sienna partially blocking the road, which other busses would have to clear. Good luck, guys.
We walked past the slave graveyard for the plantation on our way to the shuttle up the the main house. Aidan was beyond intrigued by the history of the place, and, yet, we had only just begun.
We arrived at the main house several minutes before our scheduled tour was to begin, so we took ourselves on a self-guided tour of the gardens. The views from the garden were absolutely fantastic. The hills around the property were lush and green, in spite of the tremendous heat and humidity. Thankfully, every few minutes, a slight breeze cooled the air momentarily. Abby and Ella raced around the garden pointing out the vegetables they recognized as squash, tomatoes, and cabbage, while Aidan read the signage and tried his best to get the attention of his sisters. When we found the enormous asparagus plants, the kikis shrieked with laughter, exclaiming, “Asparagus is my very favorite vegetable!” I am ashamed to note, however, that none of us would have recognized asparagus in this state without the garden stakes. Even Brent and I learned something today.
Our tour guide met us on the porch of the great home at 12:10. She introduced herself and Abby, Ella, and Aidan enthusiastically pushed their way to the front of the group. I won’t bore you with the details of this incredible home, except to say that I have never been so proud of my kids. They listened to the guide and asked intelligent questions and didn’t tire until the end of the 30 minute tour. They were really great.
After the tour, we headed back to the RV for the trip into DC. Unfortunately, the RV was too big for the scenic route, so we were forced to make a rather roundabout journey north by way of Richmond 60 miles to the South and East of our intended route. In the end, it was only an hour longer than the shortcut, and what is an hour when you have food, a bathroom, and endless Disney movies to choose from along the way?
After hitting the Beltway at exactly 5 p.m., I was nervous that Brent would be overwhelmed with the traffic. There is no room for error when your combined length is over 50 feet. Once again Brent lived up to his nickname. We made it to the north side of DC in time for s pre-sunset check-in at the Cherry Hill RV park. Easily locating our slip, we began unhooking the tow car just as the rain began to fall. It was then that we decided to take the kids into town for dinner instead of trying to grill in the rain.
We loaded the kids in the van and took off for Hank’s Oyster Bar in DuPont Circle, a mere 16 miles from the park. After navigating the RV, Brent was more than happy to drive the van which felt like a go-kart after 2 days in the RV. Although the streets in DC are all KINDS of CRAZY, we eventually found Avenue Q and 17th. We are so glad that we made the trek out tonight. The oysters were beyond compare as was the appetizer of fried shrimp and calamari that the kids devoured with a side of goldfish crackers. This place was an absolute perfect blend of grown-up meets kid fare. Along with the mac and cheese, Aidan ate a couple of white anchovy fillets. Who knew he would like anchovies?
On the way home, Ella sang us a song she composed about The Nessie and Abby called Uncle Jim to tell him about dinner. It was another great night on the road.
Side note: Ella also declared at dinner that she didn’t want to go to any more dead people’s houses. She wants to go to a house where people are ALIVE. Hilarious. Hopefully, tomorrow she will be satisfied by a trip out to my friend Sara’s house for dinner. There, she can play with real-live kids.
After scrambling to get breakfast prepared and a coffee poured, I decided to relax. If we don’t get it all done… we don’t get it all done. What a novel concept for a vacation! Instead of rushing off to make both historic homes today, we gambled… maybe we make it, maybe we don’t.
Finally, around 11, we arrived at Monticello. Brent was forced to employ his super skills when navigating the RV up the narrow and winding, heavily shaded “path” to the grounds. As I assured him that surely busses make this journey all day, I could see the disbelief build with every drop of sweat that accumulated on his brow. Just when I thought even The Highwayman could falter, we saw a clearing ahead and pulled into a spot. Having the tow car has been a blessing thus far, but we are learning some things about towing. None of the spots were pull-through. You can’t back up with a Toyota Sienna on a dolly behind you. Oh, well, we would worry about that later. In the meantime, we left the rig with the Sienna partially blocking the road, which other busses would have to clear. Good luck, guys.
We walked past the slave graveyard for the plantation on our way to the shuttle up the the main house. Aidan was beyond intrigued by the history of the place, and, yet, we had only just begun.
We arrived at the main house several minutes before our scheduled tour was to begin, so we took ourselves on a self-guided tour of the gardens. The views from the garden were absolutely fantastic. The hills around the property were lush and green, in spite of the tremendous heat and humidity. Thankfully, every few minutes, a slight breeze cooled the air momentarily. Abby and Ella raced around the garden pointing out the vegetables they recognized as squash, tomatoes, and cabbage, while Aidan read the signage and tried his best to get the attention of his sisters. When we found the enormous asparagus plants, the kikis shrieked with laughter, exclaiming, “Asparagus is my very favorite vegetable!” I am ashamed to note, however, that none of us would have recognized asparagus in this state without the garden stakes. Even Brent and I learned something today.
Our tour guide met us on the porch of the great home at 12:10. She introduced herself and Abby, Ella, and Aidan enthusiastically pushed their way to the front of the group. I won’t bore you with the details of this incredible home, except to say that I have never been so proud of my kids. They listened to the guide and asked intelligent questions and didn’t tire until the end of the 30 minute tour. They were really great.
After the tour, we headed back to the RV for the trip into DC. Unfortunately, the RV was too big for the scenic route, so we were forced to make a rather roundabout journey north by way of Richmond 60 miles to the South and East of our intended route. In the end, it was only an hour longer than the shortcut, and what is an hour when you have food, a bathroom, and endless Disney movies to choose from along the way?
After hitting the Beltway at exactly 5 p.m., I was nervous that Brent would be overwhelmed with the traffic. There is no room for error when your combined length is over 50 feet. Once again Brent lived up to his nickname. We made it to the north side of DC in time for s pre-sunset check-in at the Cherry Hill RV park. Easily locating our slip, we began unhooking the tow car just as the rain began to fall. It was then that we decided to take the kids into town for dinner instead of trying to grill in the rain.
We loaded the kids in the van and took off for Hank’s Oyster Bar in DuPont Circle, a mere 16 miles from the park. After navigating the RV, Brent was more than happy to drive the van which felt like a go-kart after 2 days in the RV. Although the streets in DC are all KINDS of CRAZY, we eventually found Avenue Q and 17th. We are so glad that we made the trek out tonight. The oysters were beyond compare as was the appetizer of fried shrimp and calamari that the kids devoured with a side of goldfish crackers. This place was an absolute perfect blend of grown-up meets kid fare. Along with the mac and cheese, Aidan ate a couple of white anchovy fillets. Who knew he would like anchovies?
On the way home, Ella sang us a song she composed about The Nessie and Abby called Uncle Jim to tell him about dinner. It was another great night on the road.
Side note: Ella also declared at dinner that she didn’t want to go to any more dead people’s houses. She wants to go to a house where people are ALIVE. Hilarious. Hopefully, tomorrow she will be satisfied by a trip out to my friend Sara’s house for dinner. There, she can play with real-live kids.
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