This was to be Julia’s heritage day, she had always known that she had relatives in New England but the prospect of going there had galvanized her into action. She learned from her mother that her mother was one of twelve children who grew up in the Ilkeston area a town between Derby and Nottingham, where lace making was a flourishing trade. Before the war two of the sisters, Ida and Bess, had taken their skill to Pawtucket where there was a need for lace-makers. Thinking how far away from Derbyshire New England is even when flying makes their decision to head for a new life in America all the more remarkable. Iris, Julia’s mum, had sent cards and letters to them for years before they both passed and she still had their addresses, as well as the address of a friend of theirs, Angie, who outlived them both.
After breakfast in the Dunkin Donuts we had spotted the previous night, which incidentally maintained the Newport tradition of getting the order wrong. We were able to get the order corrected and we set off having put Angie’s address into the SatNav. Pawtucket was not as industrial as we had expected and we found Angie’s house without any problem – it looked easily old enough to be unchanged since Iris had been writing to Angie. The house looked to be perhaps three flats and probably still occupied but we had no reason to enquire further so we moved on. The next address took us to a major junction, and was a huge seemingly recent block of flats. We took photos but really doubted that this monster featured in Ida and Bess’s lives. When we returned to England Iris confirmed to our surprise that the two ladies had retired to that block of apartments which was at that time reserved for women. Thinking about the size of the building Julia asked if there had been an apartment number which went with the address but Iris was adamant that her letters had always got there without such detail.
On the same road we had spotted in guide books and maps there was Slater Mill, an exhibit of an industrial mill built on the Blackstone River very much in the style of Derbyshire mills on the Dove or Derwent. Slater Mill is named after an English man “Slater the Traitor” who brought the mill machine technology to New England in secret and in considerable danger. As it was Columbus Day the museum was open and we decided to sign up for a conducted tour. We paid our $11 each, $1 discount for being members of the AA the British equivalent of the AAA, driving association. The young lady, in period costume, who took our money was excited to learn we were British, over-exited to hear we came from Derbyshire and almost overcome with excitement when we told her Julia’s relatives had come to work in the area!
Located on the Blackstone River in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, Slater Mill is a museum complex dedicated to bringing one of the most exciting and significant periods of American history to life. Visitors to the site experience a time when an America of small farmers and craftsmen was poised to become the industrial leader of the world
In the Slater Mill itself, visitors are surrounded by vintage textile machinery bathed in the light of large windows. With expert commentary from costumed interpreters they can imagine the lives of the people – many of them children – who made the early mills come alive. In the nearby Wilkinson Mill they can feel the throb of the great 16,000-pound mill wheel, a replica of the original wheel that harnessed the power of the Blackstone River to make the era’s finest tools. Children get up close and personal with early production processes as they provide the power and operate miniature machinery in the Apprentice Alcove. And in the Sylvanus Brown House they can look back to a time when spinning, weaving, cooking and quilting were the stuff of everyday life.
The story of Slater Mill is the story of innovation, of labor, of artisans, of women’s rights, of the cotton economy, of immigration and assimilation, as well as the story of industry. It is culturally, educationally and historically important for people of all ages and origins to be able to come, see, touch, learn and be inspired at Slater Mill.
Our tour started in the garden of the Sylvanus Brown House and an enthusiastic man showed us round the house and the Wilkinson Mill although the mill wheel was not turning. On the shop floor above the wheel the machines were switched on using electricity rather than water-power, and we realised how noisy and dangerous the environment had been for the workers, the moving machine parts were lubricated with grease which pretty much coated everywhere including the floor so the workers operated barefoot to increase their grip and developed sign language to communicate above the noise. Most of them were close to stone deaf before they retired but in all of this they counted themselves very lucky to work there as they were paid about four times what they could earn in agriculture. The Wilkinson Mill produced machine parts for the cotton and lace industries which thrived along the Blackstone River.
Our guide to the Slater mill was the young lady from reception, her excitement seemed to increase as she took us through the exhibits most of which were in working order but some could not be switched on due to health and safety regulations.
The first machine which she showed us was a cotton picking machine, not picking the cotton from the bush but picking the seeds and impurities from the already picked cotton. The machine performed its task thirty times faster than it had been done previously by hand. She said that it was the invention and adoption of these machines which perpetuated slavery in the south because it had been uneconomic to farm cotton using slaves and owners were thinking of abandoning the practice.
We enjoyed the tour and set off again towards Cape Cod in mid afternoon. We planned on visiting the Whaling Museum but as we were running late we reset the satnav and followed its directions to the Heritage House Hotel in Hyannis.
Having checked in and taken tea in our room we drove through the harbour area to the Kennedy Memorial on the Lewis Bay waterfront and beside it the Korean War Memorial which in turn is next to Veterans' Park Beach. This was our first chance to walk on a beach this holiday. While we were there we noted several groups of three people, each group consisting of a photographer, a model and a director/minder. The group which claimed our attention was one where the female model was proudly pregnant, think basketball sized bump, in a bikini. We could only assume their pictures were for specialised tastes or she had agreed to the session some nine or ten months before.
The light was beautiful and I could quite understand the urge to capture some photographs and having done so we headed back to the hotel.
As was becoming our custom, I took a walk along Main Street to check out the restaurants while Julia swam. Everywhere seemed expensive so I had made no decision when we set off later together to settle on a place to eat. We had some domestic tension when Julia realised that she had forgotten her glasses and could not read menus or prices. Ever the gentleman, I set off back to the hotel still moving poorly due to my tweaked back. In the room I couldn’t find the glasses but picked up her spare pair, I finally caught up with her towards the far end of the street and we re-traced our steps. We finally settled on a cheap Thai restaurant with two starters and a main for $8. I was not amused when Julia opened her jacket to reveal her glasses hooked into her shirt! Oh how we laughed!
The meal was cheap and cheerful the two starters were balanced on the side of the main plate but everything was tasty.
We returned to the hotel as it started to rain.
Tuesday, 30 November 2010
Sunday, 28 November 2010
New England – Fall 2010 – Day 14: Newport
We had taken advice from the reception staff about Newport and had planned, using the map they had provided, driving into Newport to buy breakfast then driving the route round the coast, known unsurprisingly as Ocean Drive, this would take us into the mansion area of the town where we would find the Tennis Hall of Fame and other houses to visit before we finished with the Cliff Walk.
It was Sunday so we were not hugely shocked to find few eating establishments open. We chose the Ocean Breeze Café, there was free of charge unlimited people watching but strangely we seemed to watch other people getting served while we waited and waited, some of the people served before us had arrived after us but as we are English we are pre-programmed not to complain. Perhaps that was the premise of an experiment we were unwittingly the subject of because when the order finally arrived it was wrong! The genius behind the experiment would now have claimed victory when we refused to object but in fact we were being pragmatic, we could not waste the rest of the day waiting for a re-cooked order.
After this annoying start we moved to phase two of the master plan. The Ocean Drive was stunning; every corner took us to another small bay. They were mainly rocky with moored motor boats and small dwellings which in fairness probably cost small fortunes.
We decided to take our photos on our return journey so we pressed on to the mansions situated on Bellevue Avenue; they are placed on the coast to provide an ocean view behind and a civilized location at their front. On Bellevue Avenue is the Tennis hall of Fame situated in the Newport Casino, which still operates as a members’ tennis club and the only grass courts available for public hire in the USA. Casino is a misleading name so I include the following to clarify, before reading it please bear in mind the adage that the “rich are different to us”.
The Newport Casino, home of the International Tennis Hall of Fame & Museum, was first opened on July 26, 1880. The origins of the Newport Casino unfold as follows. The setting was Newport, Rhode Island, August 1879. James Gordon Bennett, the influential publisher of America’s leading newspaper the New York Herald, and Captain Henry Augustus Candy, retired officer of the Queen’s 9th Royal Lancers and skillful British Polo player, were the two key figures in the origins of the Newport Casino. Bennett, as a summer resident, was a member of the Newport Reading Room, a gentlemen-only club, which was a gathering place for prominent Newporters. As Bennett’s guest, Captain Candy also enjoyed the benefits of Reading Room membership. The story goes that one late summer day, the two men were up for some amusing entertainment and Bennett presumably bet or dared Captain Candy to ride his polo horse up onto the front porch of the Reading Room. Candy, without hesitation, mounted his horse and rode onto the porch…and then proceeded into the club! Although Candy won the afternoon wager, club members expressed their displeasure at the insulting disruption. The Governors of the Reading Room were also not amused and revoked the guest privileges of Captain Candy. Bennett was not one to be chastised and tempers flared, all resulting in the end of Bennett’s Reading Room membership.
Bennett’s loss was our gain, as Bennett turned his attention to building an establishment; a “new club house” to serve summer visitors that would be both public and private. In the late fall of 1879, Bennett commissioned the architectural firm of McKim, Mead and White to design and build the facility. McKim, Mead and White was the premier architectural firm of the late 19th and early 20th Century, and the Newport Casino was one of the firm’s earliest projects. Stanford White has often been credited with the Victorian shingle-style design of the Casino, although it was Charles McKim who was responsible for capturing the symmetry and balance of the Bellevue Avenue façade, inclusive of its revenue producing storefronts. The name, Newport Casino, was never meant to refer to gaming and gambling, as the word casino stems from the Italian word cascina, meaning “little summer house.”
Construction underway, the Newport Casino complex was built in only six months. On July 26th, a soft opening was held with guest admittance by invitation only. One week later, on August 2nd, the public was invited to inspect the premises and more than 3,000 attended. The Newport Casino offered a block of shops on Bellevue Avenue, a restaurant and gentlemen’s lodging. Archery, billiards, concerts, dancing, dining, horse shows, lawn bowling, reading, tea parties and theatricals, along with the staples of its present day offerings of lawn tennis, croquet, and court tennis, were all part of the social scene. Writing three days after the opening, the Newport News boasted, “It is doubtful if a more lively place can be found.”
With its centralized three-story clock tower, the main building consisted of ground floor shops and second story clubrooms (clubrooms solely for the private members). The Billiards Room was the most popular of the club rooms, lofty and spacious with full-size windows overlooking the courtyard. Towards the east of the property bordering Freebody Street was the Casino Theatre and Court Tennis building. A full-length piazza porch with upper and lower levels connected these two impressive structures.We parked in the lot of a mall opposite the THoF and went in. The initial area before entering the museum is hugely impressive the buildings of the club/museum wrap round a well tended grass court. Having been brought up playing on grass I would suggest that the grass itself was a little longer than perfect but I think that it was that length as play for the season had finished a week or two before and the courts were being allowed to recover. Since tennis is an upper class sport it will not come as a shock that this club, deep in the oldest wealthy area of the country, hosted the first national championships which grew, in turn, into the US Open.
Having paid admission we could wander the exhibits inside the museum and also the gardens and courts not open to the non-paying public.
In the museum we saw many tennis collectables and I now make my claim to fame. I would wager that of their many guests I would be the one who has hit with the oldest racket, on the wall amongst many others was a three stemmed wooden tennis racket, the Hazel Streamline, my uncle John had one when I had just taken up tennis and I got to use it. Strangely it disappeared somewhere between then and now and my cousins cannot recall its existence. I now see these rackets on sale for hundreds of pounds.
The hall of fame part of the museum left me a bit cold as I knew pretty much all of the inductees and their bios told me very little I didn’t know already. The museum part was pretty varied, there were old drawing rooms of vintage furniture and then there are modern glass cases with players’ kit and equipment. It was an impressive experience overall and it got better when we left the building and walked the grounds. There are multiple grass tennis courts, a clay court and a block of indoor courts. We then came upon a Real Tennis court, the oldest form of tennis played originally by such as King Henry VIII, the most famous example of a court being the one at Hampton Court, a royal residence. We wandered onto the viewing gallery and met up with a member of the club who was running a National Real Tennis championship which unfortunately was taking a break while we were there. While we in England call this brand of tennis “Real” the Americans imported it as “Court” tennis, both names seem to imply superiority to simple outdoor tennis.
After the THoF we drove back along Bellevue Avenue and parked in the car park for the Rosecliff Mansion, however we decided against buying the house with our entrance fee so we set off to find the Cliff Walk. We took a considerable time to find our way through to the walk, once on the walk we found it a little disappointing. The walk was billed as being flanked by the ocean on one side and massive houses on the other, which was true enough in its way but the ocean along there is bland compared to many other stretches in New England and the houses have protected their privacy with walls and fences. The owners of the mansions both famous and lesser have tried to avoid being overlooked from the walk even to the point of digging tunnels under their land to allow them and their guests to see, and get to, the shoreline without being bothered by poor people.
It was enjoyable and quite strenuous walking often over scattered boulders and we found our way back to the car after about two hours.
Now we retraced our path along the ocean drive and stopped twice for photos. We then stopped off in a larger bay where there was a pair of cruise liners anchored here we got into a discussion with an American couple of veteran cruisers whereas we were representing the cruisers of more limited experience.
We returned to the hotel and later went to the local estate where we ate at the 99 Restaurant which we found very economic and welcoming. We located at the same time a Dunkin Donuts which was penciled in as our breakfast venue the following day.
It was Sunday so we were not hugely shocked to find few eating establishments open. We chose the Ocean Breeze Café, there was free of charge unlimited people watching but strangely we seemed to watch other people getting served while we waited and waited, some of the people served before us had arrived after us but as we are English we are pre-programmed not to complain. Perhaps that was the premise of an experiment we were unwittingly the subject of because when the order finally arrived it was wrong! The genius behind the experiment would now have claimed victory when we refused to object but in fact we were being pragmatic, we could not waste the rest of the day waiting for a re-cooked order.
After this annoying start we moved to phase two of the master plan. The Ocean Drive was stunning; every corner took us to another small bay. They were mainly rocky with moored motor boats and small dwellings which in fairness probably cost small fortunes.
We decided to take our photos on our return journey so we pressed on to the mansions situated on Bellevue Avenue; they are placed on the coast to provide an ocean view behind and a civilized location at their front. On Bellevue Avenue is the Tennis hall of Fame situated in the Newport Casino, which still operates as a members’ tennis club and the only grass courts available for public hire in the USA. Casino is a misleading name so I include the following to clarify, before reading it please bear in mind the adage that the “rich are different to us”.
The Newport Casino, home of the International Tennis Hall of Fame & Museum, was first opened on July 26, 1880. The origins of the Newport Casino unfold as follows. The setting was Newport, Rhode Island, August 1879. James Gordon Bennett, the influential publisher of America’s leading newspaper the New York Herald, and Captain Henry Augustus Candy, retired officer of the Queen’s 9th Royal Lancers and skillful British Polo player, were the two key figures in the origins of the Newport Casino. Bennett, as a summer resident, was a member of the Newport Reading Room, a gentlemen-only club, which was a gathering place for prominent Newporters. As Bennett’s guest, Captain Candy also enjoyed the benefits of Reading Room membership. The story goes that one late summer day, the two men were up for some amusing entertainment and Bennett presumably bet or dared Captain Candy to ride his polo horse up onto the front porch of the Reading Room. Candy, without hesitation, mounted his horse and rode onto the porch…and then proceeded into the club! Although Candy won the afternoon wager, club members expressed their displeasure at the insulting disruption. The Governors of the Reading Room were also not amused and revoked the guest privileges of Captain Candy. Bennett was not one to be chastised and tempers flared, all resulting in the end of Bennett’s Reading Room membership.
Bennett’s loss was our gain, as Bennett turned his attention to building an establishment; a “new club house” to serve summer visitors that would be both public and private. In the late fall of 1879, Bennett commissioned the architectural firm of McKim, Mead and White to design and build the facility. McKim, Mead and White was the premier architectural firm of the late 19th and early 20th Century, and the Newport Casino was one of the firm’s earliest projects. Stanford White has often been credited with the Victorian shingle-style design of the Casino, although it was Charles McKim who was responsible for capturing the symmetry and balance of the Bellevue Avenue façade, inclusive of its revenue producing storefronts. The name, Newport Casino, was never meant to refer to gaming and gambling, as the word casino stems from the Italian word cascina, meaning “little summer house.”
Construction underway, the Newport Casino complex was built in only six months. On July 26th, a soft opening was held with guest admittance by invitation only. One week later, on August 2nd, the public was invited to inspect the premises and more than 3,000 attended. The Newport Casino offered a block of shops on Bellevue Avenue, a restaurant and gentlemen’s lodging. Archery, billiards, concerts, dancing, dining, horse shows, lawn bowling, reading, tea parties and theatricals, along with the staples of its present day offerings of lawn tennis, croquet, and court tennis, were all part of the social scene. Writing three days after the opening, the Newport News boasted, “It is doubtful if a more lively place can be found.”
With its centralized three-story clock tower, the main building consisted of ground floor shops and second story clubrooms (clubrooms solely for the private members). The Billiards Room was the most popular of the club rooms, lofty and spacious with full-size windows overlooking the courtyard. Towards the east of the property bordering Freebody Street was the Casino Theatre and Court Tennis building. A full-length piazza porch with upper and lower levels connected these two impressive structures.We parked in the lot of a mall opposite the THoF and went in. The initial area before entering the museum is hugely impressive the buildings of the club/museum wrap round a well tended grass court. Having been brought up playing on grass I would suggest that the grass itself was a little longer than perfect but I think that it was that length as play for the season had finished a week or two before and the courts were being allowed to recover. Since tennis is an upper class sport it will not come as a shock that this club, deep in the oldest wealthy area of the country, hosted the first national championships which grew, in turn, into the US Open.
Having paid admission we could wander the exhibits inside the museum and also the gardens and courts not open to the non-paying public.
In the museum we saw many tennis collectables and I now make my claim to fame. I would wager that of their many guests I would be the one who has hit with the oldest racket, on the wall amongst many others was a three stemmed wooden tennis racket, the Hazel Streamline, my uncle John had one when I had just taken up tennis and I got to use it. Strangely it disappeared somewhere between then and now and my cousins cannot recall its existence. I now see these rackets on sale for hundreds of pounds.
The hall of fame part of the museum left me a bit cold as I knew pretty much all of the inductees and their bios told me very little I didn’t know already. The museum part was pretty varied, there were old drawing rooms of vintage furniture and then there are modern glass cases with players’ kit and equipment. It was an impressive experience overall and it got better when we left the building and walked the grounds. There are multiple grass tennis courts, a clay court and a block of indoor courts. We then came upon a Real Tennis court, the oldest form of tennis played originally by such as King Henry VIII, the most famous example of a court being the one at Hampton Court, a royal residence. We wandered onto the viewing gallery and met up with a member of the club who was running a National Real Tennis championship which unfortunately was taking a break while we were there. While we in England call this brand of tennis “Real” the Americans imported it as “Court” tennis, both names seem to imply superiority to simple outdoor tennis.
After the THoF we drove back along Bellevue Avenue and parked in the car park for the Rosecliff Mansion, however we decided against buying the house with our entrance fee so we set off to find the Cliff Walk. We took a considerable time to find our way through to the walk, once on the walk we found it a little disappointing. The walk was billed as being flanked by the ocean on one side and massive houses on the other, which was true enough in its way but the ocean along there is bland compared to many other stretches in New England and the houses have protected their privacy with walls and fences. The owners of the mansions both famous and lesser have tried to avoid being overlooked from the walk even to the point of digging tunnels under their land to allow them and their guests to see, and get to, the shoreline without being bothered by poor people.
It was enjoyable and quite strenuous walking often over scattered boulders and we found our way back to the car after about two hours.
Now we retraced our path along the ocean drive and stopped twice for photos. We then stopped off in a larger bay where there was a pair of cruise liners anchored here we got into a discussion with an American couple of veteran cruisers whereas we were representing the cruisers of more limited experience.
We returned to the hotel and later went to the local estate where we ate at the 99 Restaurant which we found very economic and welcoming. We located at the same time a Dunkin Donuts which was penciled in as our breakfast venue the following day.
Friday, 26 November 2010
New England – Fall 2010 – Day 13: Lee to Newport via Mystic
We breakfasted in the Indian restaurant and the covered patio next to the outside pool. The breakfast area was too congested with food and equipment before the guests were added to the mix. Shortly after, but unconnected to, our arrival the power in the area went off and a circuit breaker had to be reset. This had the strange affect of breaking the timer on the waffle iron – by now we were highly experienced in dealing with waffle makers. We read the instructions, sprayed the iron with oil when required and always turned the device at the start. The ping usually announced when the waffle was ready but now no ping. We managed but it was enough to throw off several of our fellow guests.
There were two groups of travellers who we found ourselves fascinated by. They were a couple of about our age and a younger, somewhat overweight, couple with two very loud children. Our prejudices were such that we expected to find ourselves more aligned with the older couple but it didn’t finish up that way. The younger wife occupied the waffle maker feeding her noisy children while her husband disappeared, supporting our prejudice as stated. However the older husband was quite loud in his criticism of nearly everything and particularly his waffle which was only a mess because he had not followed the instructions. When he dropped something down himself we had the spectacle of his wife wiping him down as if he were a child, meanwhile the younger mother was sitting with her young children when the girl spilled her juice. The father was absent but in fact was in the cooking area timing the waffles for other guests using his mobile phone. The young boy shot off to get paper napkins and deal with the spillage. The grumpy couple continued to annoy us but we sort of agreed with them when the younger family deserted their messy table. Wrong again; they were only greeting some family members who were part of a surprise meeting concocted by the wives of the party. They returned to the table while the “timer” husband went to ask the reception desk about the charge to their visitors to have breakfast. Again I was backing the wrong horse; there were notices around trying to ensure all breakfast food was consumed in the eating area so I assumed they would charge any outsiders but the hotel were gracious and invited the visitors to eat for free. After breakfast the younger family cleared their table while the grumpy older couple left their mess to be cleared.
After breakfast we needed to move on promptly as we had several plans for our journey. Having loaded the car I returned to the hotel reception to check out, as usual no money changed hands but I did realise for the first time that our room on the car park side of the block was inferior to the lake side rooms with their balconies overlooking the lake.
Close to our route we had noted the Old Sturbridge Village, which is a living museum located in Sturbridge, Massachusetts, which re-creates life in rural New England during the 1790s through 1830s. It is the largest living museum in New England, covering more than 200 acres. We decided to look in on it, and if it was cheap, we would spend a maximum of an hour there. We came off the freeway and found it easily but it was expensive, over $20 each, which we reckon would have been good value for a day long stay but not for the short time we could allocate. We tried to rejoin the freeway but this time we encountered large lines for the toll booths. These were made worse by there only being one booth which accepted cash. Our mood was not improved by our battle to hold position in the line with cars leaving to risk the automated tolls and more vehicles forcing their way in!
Our spirits quickly picked up as we cleared the toll area and set off for Mystic.
We needed to hit Mystic for two reasons, we had all enjoyed the film Mystic Pizza and it was our best chance to add another state to our list, Connecticut.
We were totally charmed by Mystic; we parked in a residential area and walked back towards the centre of town which was the other side of the Mystic River, a draw bridge was due to be raised when we remembered that we had not locked the car, I returned to rectify this while Julia took possession of the camera and captured the bridge opening.
We found Mystic Pizza, but we already knew that the film was made elsewhere, and took photos. There was a big line to eat there but we did not have that in mind. We ate home made ice-cream next to the bridge and wandered the sea port area, I had reclaimed the camera by now or we would have only six photos to show for our visit. Julia struggles with the digital concept and still seems to think as if we had limited film.
Reluctantly we moved on to Newport and once again the satnav did us proud. We arrived at the last Best Western of this tour, the Mainstay.
At reception there was an English guest reporting on her dissatisfaction about pretty much everything concerning her stay, not a good omen, but we found the hotel great. The staff was helpful and everything was as it should be. Having settled into our room and enjoyed our tea, the travel kettle never let us down; I went out to explore hopefully to return with milk. Within easy walking distance, even for me still struggling with a sore back, I found an estate with a Wal-Mart and a 99 restaurant which we knew nothing about. I returned with milk, cookies and a new watch. Ageing is a daunting prospect but preferable to the alternative. I now have to buy big faced digital watches in order to read them without my glasses, fortunately they all seem to have similar set-up menus, because the first one I bought had a big face with big numerals but instructions with tiny printing that I couldn’t read even with my glasses! At school there were no such problems, unable to text on a new phone I would throw it to a pupil and they would have the skill masted in seconds and me taught in minutes.
On my victorious return to the hotel we decided to eat there. The food was excellent, stuffed scrod and cold beer filled us. There was a military feel to the bar/restaurant area because of the nearby submarine base but there was no rowdiness and we found it easy to get a good night’s sleep.
There were two groups of travellers who we found ourselves fascinated by. They were a couple of about our age and a younger, somewhat overweight, couple with two very loud children. Our prejudices were such that we expected to find ourselves more aligned with the older couple but it didn’t finish up that way. The younger wife occupied the waffle maker feeding her noisy children while her husband disappeared, supporting our prejudice as stated. However the older husband was quite loud in his criticism of nearly everything and particularly his waffle which was only a mess because he had not followed the instructions. When he dropped something down himself we had the spectacle of his wife wiping him down as if he were a child, meanwhile the younger mother was sitting with her young children when the girl spilled her juice. The father was absent but in fact was in the cooking area timing the waffles for other guests using his mobile phone. The young boy shot off to get paper napkins and deal with the spillage. The grumpy couple continued to annoy us but we sort of agreed with them when the younger family deserted their messy table. Wrong again; they were only greeting some family members who were part of a surprise meeting concocted by the wives of the party. They returned to the table while the “timer” husband went to ask the reception desk about the charge to their visitors to have breakfast. Again I was backing the wrong horse; there were notices around trying to ensure all breakfast food was consumed in the eating area so I assumed they would charge any outsiders but the hotel were gracious and invited the visitors to eat for free. After breakfast the younger family cleared their table while the grumpy older couple left their mess to be cleared.
After breakfast we needed to move on promptly as we had several plans for our journey. Having loaded the car I returned to the hotel reception to check out, as usual no money changed hands but I did realise for the first time that our room on the car park side of the block was inferior to the lake side rooms with their balconies overlooking the lake.
Close to our route we had noted the Old Sturbridge Village, which is a living museum located in Sturbridge, Massachusetts, which re-creates life in rural New England during the 1790s through 1830s. It is the largest living museum in New England, covering more than 200 acres. We decided to look in on it, and if it was cheap, we would spend a maximum of an hour there. We came off the freeway and found it easily but it was expensive, over $20 each, which we reckon would have been good value for a day long stay but not for the short time we could allocate. We tried to rejoin the freeway but this time we encountered large lines for the toll booths. These were made worse by there only being one booth which accepted cash. Our mood was not improved by our battle to hold position in the line with cars leaving to risk the automated tolls and more vehicles forcing their way in!
Our spirits quickly picked up as we cleared the toll area and set off for Mystic.
We needed to hit Mystic for two reasons, we had all enjoyed the film Mystic Pizza and it was our best chance to add another state to our list, Connecticut.
We were totally charmed by Mystic; we parked in a residential area and walked back towards the centre of town which was the other side of the Mystic River, a draw bridge was due to be raised when we remembered that we had not locked the car, I returned to rectify this while Julia took possession of the camera and captured the bridge opening.
We found Mystic Pizza, but we already knew that the film was made elsewhere, and took photos. There was a big line to eat there but we did not have that in mind. We ate home made ice-cream next to the bridge and wandered the sea port area, I had reclaimed the camera by now or we would have only six photos to show for our visit. Julia struggles with the digital concept and still seems to think as if we had limited film.
Reluctantly we moved on to Newport and once again the satnav did us proud. We arrived at the last Best Western of this tour, the Mainstay.
At reception there was an English guest reporting on her dissatisfaction about pretty much everything concerning her stay, not a good omen, but we found the hotel great. The staff was helpful and everything was as it should be. Having settled into our room and enjoyed our tea, the travel kettle never let us down; I went out to explore hopefully to return with milk. Within easy walking distance, even for me still struggling with a sore back, I found an estate with a Wal-Mart and a 99 restaurant which we knew nothing about. I returned with milk, cookies and a new watch. Ageing is a daunting prospect but preferable to the alternative. I now have to buy big faced digital watches in order to read them without my glasses, fortunately they all seem to have similar set-up menus, because the first one I bought had a big face with big numerals but instructions with tiny printing that I couldn’t read even with my glasses! At school there were no such problems, unable to text on a new phone I would throw it to a pupil and they would have the skill masted in seconds and me taught in minutes.
On my victorious return to the hotel we decided to eat there. The food was excellent, stuffed scrod and cold beer filled us. There was a military feel to the bar/restaurant area because of the nearby submarine base but there was no rowdiness and we found it easy to get a good night’s sleep.
Saturday, 13 November 2010
New England – Fall 2010 – Day 10: Corning to Lee
We enjoyed breakfast at the hotel and looked to move on early as we had decided to stop off at Springfield to see the Basketball Hall of Fame and the Springfield Armory. When I say stop off we were in fact over-shooting Lee by about 30 miles because the following day we were heading onto Newport and wanted to visit Mystic en route.
Since Niagara we had repacked so that we only needed one bag in the hotel while the other, filled with dirty clothes, could remain in the boot (trunk) of the car.
When I took the baggage out to the car I twinged my back, although it was not as bad as sometimes I knew that it was not going to get much better sitting in a car for hours on end.
We found the Basketball Hall of Fame without a problem and got parked up. I was stiff getting out of the car but it eased as I walked in.
The BHoF was hugely impressive; we started on the top floor which was basically a gallery with the inductees listed in order of their induction, the walls are covered with photos and below that there are display cabinets with artifacts related to the inductees. Out of too many things to list I remember the ball with which Wilt Chamberlain scored his 25000th point.
The next floor down had galleries featuring coaches and players but with an emphasis on Michael Jordan. Amongst his life story I found no evidence for something I believe about him so anyone can support me in this if they find any evidence for it. I believe Michael picked 23 as his number because his older brother played in 45 and he would be happy to be half the player his brother was.
Finally the ground floor has a hardwood court and racks of balls which anyone can use. Amongst the miscellaneous shirts, balls and shoes on display there are interactive exhibits, you can try to jump up for hanging balls to test your rebounding skills and on a small court you can play virtual basketball against the computer.
While we were there also on display was the Chris Webber Collection. This is comprised of African-American art and cultural artifacts dating back to the 1700s. Included items like first-edition books by Booker T. Washington, and personal writings from Frederick Douglass and Martin Luther King, Jr. enhance the cultural and social significance of the exhibit. It occurred to us that he may have been inspired to collect such items after April 5, 1993, at Michigan's second consecutive NCAA Men's Division I Basketball Championship game, Webber called a time-out with 11 seconds left in the game when his team, down 73–71, did not have any remaining, resulting in a technical foul that effectively clinched the game for North Carolina. The game marked the end of Webber's acclaimed two year collegiate basketball career. In the collection is a very kind letter from Bill Clinton, then president, he hand wrote:
April 9, 1992
Dear Chris,
I have been thinking of you a lot since I sat glued to the TV during the championship game.
I know that there may be nothing I or anyone else can say to ease the pain and discouragement of what happened.
Still, for whatever it's worth, you, and your team, were terrific. And part of playing for high stakes under great pressure is the constant risk of error. I know. I have lost two political races and made countless mistakes over the last twenty years. What matters is the intensity, integrity, and courage you bring to the effort. That is certainly what you have done. You can always regret what occurred but don't let it get you down or take away the satisfaction of what you have accomplished.
You have a great future. Hang in there.
Sincerely, Bill Clinton
Surely receiving such a letter may have inspired him to collect in this area.
We were slightly disappointed that although it is described in one of our guide books we did not see a moving pavement from which you try to shoot baskets in a series of “Hoops through the Ages”. I suspect it is a device they set up when the hall is busier.
There was a slightly pointed series of posters which displayed the following:
1962 Wilt Chamberlain – salary $65,000 – averaged over 50 points per game.
1971 Kareem Abdul Jabbar – salary $249,996 – averaged over 31 points per game.
2005 Lebron James – salary $4,320,360 – averaged over 27 points per game.
I wonder what salary Wilt Chamberlain could command playing today?
Before I move on I would mention one of the 2010 inductees, Bob Hurley Snr. He is described as a legend among coaches at any level; Bob Hurley has led St. Anthony's High School in Jersey City, New Jersey to 25 State Parochial School championships, three USA Today national titles and over 900 wins. Hurley gained national attention when his son Bobby graduated and became a four-year starter and All-American at Duke University. Bobby, along with Grant Hill and Christian Laettner, led Duke to two NCAA titles. Over the years, Hurley has been offered a number of college coaching jobs. He has turned them all down.
My only concern is that he is one of only three high school coaches inducted and he was more famous as a father than for doing such a great job himself.
After we finished at the BHoF we set off again to visit the Springfield Armory, we had an address which we put into the SatNav but we still found ourselves sitting in a school’s car park. I asked a couple of students who directed me to the school administration and they in turn directed us to the Armory which was in the same set of grounds – it was all a bit low-key.
The Springfield Armory was the primary center for the manufacture of U.S. military small arms and the site of many important technological advances in gun manufacture. Many different models produced at the armory from 1794 to 1968 were referred to as "Springfield rifles". The other major gun manufacturing center was the Harpers Ferry Armory, until its destruction during the American Civil War. It is now the home of the Springfield Armory National Historic Site. It was a free museum and we had an hour to enjoy it before it closed at 5.00pm.
We watched an introductory video and as we progressed round the exhibits there were brilliant explanatory videos which showed how the various stages of firearms worked from muzzle loading to fully automatic. The museum was in two parts, one for the huge range of firearms and weapons they had collected there and the other for the developing industrial machinery used to make the weapons.
Soon after five we were back on the road to the Quality Inn at Lee, which featured in the hotel, strangely, The Bombay Indian Restaurant. Having driven as much it was tempting but it seemed expensive and Indian is a cuisine where you have to be in that mood.
After checking through the various pamphlets in the room we decided to drive into Lee and choose between a sports bar and a family restaurant.
Both restaurants had addresses on Main Street so it was a lottery as to which appeared first – The Locker Room Sports Bar was the winner. We parked on the street and headed in. We got seats at a table by the door and were greeted by the bar manager. We waited a while at our table and eventually one of the waitresses took our drinks order. Clearly we were not specific enough in that we would prefer our drinks that particular evening. We had menus and had decided on our choices but nobody seemed that interested.
The bar manager, who was an English guy from Essex, managed to point his staff in our direction again and we got our drinks, we also managed to order a pizza for me and chicken wings and salad for Julia. In conversation it emerged that he had spent the summer coaching at sports camps and was now doing this job through the winter. Strangely he found it much more surprising that we were there as tourists.
Being a sports bar we were not surprised to see local teams celebrated with displays round the bar area, their most successful sporting outfit was the local high school’s ladies basketball team and apparently they were well represented on the waiting staff. Perhaps they play a very physical brand of the game in that area and have sustained head injuries affecting their memories. Waitresses were often wandering round the bar offering orders to all and sundry before someone claimed their meal. Near us a group of three all got their starters together then two of them were served their main course and offered dessert before the third member of the group got her main course. When we got our meals they were fine except that it arrived with an extra large salad along with the normal sized one – we rejected it but still got charged for it until our Essex friend intervened.
Although it was the most disorganized staff we were quite happy with the evening, the food and drink were good, we were in no hurry and there was a good atmosphere.
When we returned to the hotel; the car park was absolutely packed and the Indian Restaurant was throbbing so perhaps it was well worth the high prices.
Since Niagara we had repacked so that we only needed one bag in the hotel while the other, filled with dirty clothes, could remain in the boot (trunk) of the car.
When I took the baggage out to the car I twinged my back, although it was not as bad as sometimes I knew that it was not going to get much better sitting in a car for hours on end.
We found the Basketball Hall of Fame without a problem and got parked up. I was stiff getting out of the car but it eased as I walked in.
The BHoF was hugely impressive; we started on the top floor which was basically a gallery with the inductees listed in order of their induction, the walls are covered with photos and below that there are display cabinets with artifacts related to the inductees. Out of too many things to list I remember the ball with which Wilt Chamberlain scored his 25000th point.
The next floor down had galleries featuring coaches and players but with an emphasis on Michael Jordan. Amongst his life story I found no evidence for something I believe about him so anyone can support me in this if they find any evidence for it. I believe Michael picked 23 as his number because his older brother played in 45 and he would be happy to be half the player his brother was.
Finally the ground floor has a hardwood court and racks of balls which anyone can use. Amongst the miscellaneous shirts, balls and shoes on display there are interactive exhibits, you can try to jump up for hanging balls to test your rebounding skills and on a small court you can play virtual basketball against the computer.
While we were there also on display was the Chris Webber Collection. This is comprised of African-American art and cultural artifacts dating back to the 1700s. Included items like first-edition books by Booker T. Washington, and personal writings from Frederick Douglass and Martin Luther King, Jr. enhance the cultural and social significance of the exhibit. It occurred to us that he may have been inspired to collect such items after April 5, 1993, at Michigan's second consecutive NCAA Men's Division I Basketball Championship game, Webber called a time-out with 11 seconds left in the game when his team, down 73–71, did not have any remaining, resulting in a technical foul that effectively clinched the game for North Carolina. The game marked the end of Webber's acclaimed two year collegiate basketball career. In the collection is a very kind letter from Bill Clinton, then president, he hand wrote:
April 9, 1992
Dear Chris,
I have been thinking of you a lot since I sat glued to the TV during the championship game.
I know that there may be nothing I or anyone else can say to ease the pain and discouragement of what happened.
Still, for whatever it's worth, you, and your team, were terrific. And part of playing for high stakes under great pressure is the constant risk of error. I know. I have lost two political races and made countless mistakes over the last twenty years. What matters is the intensity, integrity, and courage you bring to the effort. That is certainly what you have done. You can always regret what occurred but don't let it get you down or take away the satisfaction of what you have accomplished.
You have a great future. Hang in there.
Sincerely, Bill Clinton
Surely receiving such a letter may have inspired him to collect in this area.
We were slightly disappointed that although it is described in one of our guide books we did not see a moving pavement from which you try to shoot baskets in a series of “Hoops through the Ages”. I suspect it is a device they set up when the hall is busier.
There was a slightly pointed series of posters which displayed the following:
1962 Wilt Chamberlain – salary $65,000 – averaged over 50 points per game.
1971 Kareem Abdul Jabbar – salary $249,996 – averaged over 31 points per game.
2005 Lebron James – salary $4,320,360 – averaged over 27 points per game.
I wonder what salary Wilt Chamberlain could command playing today?
Before I move on I would mention one of the 2010 inductees, Bob Hurley Snr. He is described as a legend among coaches at any level; Bob Hurley has led St. Anthony's High School in Jersey City, New Jersey to 25 State Parochial School championships, three USA Today national titles and over 900 wins. Hurley gained national attention when his son Bobby graduated and became a four-year starter and All-American at Duke University. Bobby, along with Grant Hill and Christian Laettner, led Duke to two NCAA titles. Over the years, Hurley has been offered a number of college coaching jobs. He has turned them all down.
My only concern is that he is one of only three high school coaches inducted and he was more famous as a father than for doing such a great job himself.
After we finished at the BHoF we set off again to visit the Springfield Armory, we had an address which we put into the SatNav but we still found ourselves sitting in a school’s car park. I asked a couple of students who directed me to the school administration and they in turn directed us to the Armory which was in the same set of grounds – it was all a bit low-key.
The Springfield Armory was the primary center for the manufacture of U.S. military small arms and the site of many important technological advances in gun manufacture. Many different models produced at the armory from 1794 to 1968 were referred to as "Springfield rifles". The other major gun manufacturing center was the Harpers Ferry Armory, until its destruction during the American Civil War. It is now the home of the Springfield Armory National Historic Site. It was a free museum and we had an hour to enjoy it before it closed at 5.00pm.
We watched an introductory video and as we progressed round the exhibits there were brilliant explanatory videos which showed how the various stages of firearms worked from muzzle loading to fully automatic. The museum was in two parts, one for the huge range of firearms and weapons they had collected there and the other for the developing industrial machinery used to make the weapons.
Soon after five we were back on the road to the Quality Inn at Lee, which featured in the hotel, strangely, The Bombay Indian Restaurant. Having driven as much it was tempting but it seemed expensive and Indian is a cuisine where you have to be in that mood.
After checking through the various pamphlets in the room we decided to drive into Lee and choose between a sports bar and a family restaurant.
Both restaurants had addresses on Main Street so it was a lottery as to which appeared first – The Locker Room Sports Bar was the winner. We parked on the street and headed in. We got seats at a table by the door and were greeted by the bar manager. We waited a while at our table and eventually one of the waitresses took our drinks order. Clearly we were not specific enough in that we would prefer our drinks that particular evening. We had menus and had decided on our choices but nobody seemed that interested.
The bar manager, who was an English guy from Essex, managed to point his staff in our direction again and we got our drinks, we also managed to order a pizza for me and chicken wings and salad for Julia. In conversation it emerged that he had spent the summer coaching at sports camps and was now doing this job through the winter. Strangely he found it much more surprising that we were there as tourists.
Being a sports bar we were not surprised to see local teams celebrated with displays round the bar area, their most successful sporting outfit was the local high school’s ladies basketball team and apparently they were well represented on the waiting staff. Perhaps they play a very physical brand of the game in that area and have sustained head injuries affecting their memories. Waitresses were often wandering round the bar offering orders to all and sundry before someone claimed their meal. Near us a group of three all got their starters together then two of them were served their main course and offered dessert before the third member of the group got her main course. When we got our meals they were fine except that it arrived with an extra large salad along with the normal sized one – we rejected it but still got charged for it until our Essex friend intervened.
Although it was the most disorganized staff we were quite happy with the evening, the food and drink were good, we were in no hurry and there was a good atmosphere.
When we returned to the hotel; the car park was absolutely packed and the Indian Restaurant was throbbing so perhaps it was well worth the high prices.
Wednesday, 10 November 2010
New England – Fall 2010 – Day 10: Niagara Falls to Corning
Right away we feel the need to apologise to Corning as we totally failed to do it justice – sorry.
We set off from Niagara after a most satisfactory buffet breakfast which we found opposite the front entrance of the hotel, in a diner style building possibly related to the “My Cousin Vinny’s” restaurant. The set price was reasonable and the service was excellent.
We had a journey of some 150 miles and two hours forty minutes ahead of us so we set off shortly after breakfast. We found our way to the Rainbow Bridge and crossed it to the USA. I would love to tell you that we were greeted like long lost friends by the American Immigration service but they, in the person of the officer at the check point, were equally gruff and businesslike as our Canadian. Being fair I suspect that most interactions at the border are filmed for security purposes and no official would want to be seen laughing and joking with us if we were later identified as terrorists, although I do remember filling in a form previously where I promised that I was not.
Niagara had marked a middle point in our adventure and we were now making our way back to New England proper in a two day drive across New York State which doesn’t count.
We had decided to stop off at Watkins Glen State Park on our way to Corning because our notes from American Driving Vacations said cryptically, “If you did not have the opportunity to visit WGSP, you can do so on the way to Corning” Looking at our route map I cannot imagine any part of our previous journey that had passed close enough to make dropping in even remotely possible.
It was also a good thing that we reached Watkins Glen as we were nearing Corning so much of the journey was out of the way. We pulled into the State Park parking lot, having paid our $8 per car, at the bottom entrance of the park. We were notified that there was no shuttle bus running back down from the top of the park but we would not have taken it anyway.
Watkins Glen State Park is located on the edge of the village of Watkins Glen, New York, south of Seneca Lake in Schuyler County. The main feature of the park is the hiking trail that climbs up through the gorge, passing over and under waterfalls. The park has a lower part that is next to the village and an upper part that is open woodland.
Watkins Glen State Park is in a 400-foot-deep narrow gorge cut through rock by a stream that was left hanging when glaciers of the Ice age deepened the Seneca valley, increasing the tributary stream gradient to create rapids and waterfalls wherever there were layers of hard rock. The rocks of the area are sedimentary of Devonian age that are part of a dissected plateau that was uplifted with little faulting or distortion. They consist mostly of soft shales, with some layers of harder sandstone and limestone. The park features a trail by which one can climb or descend the gorge. Hundreds of stone steps climb over, under, and along the waterfalls. There are three trails: Indian, Gorge and Southern Rim. The Gorge and Southern Rim trails are closer to the waterfalls. The Indian trail takes you to the upper entrance, through the woods.
We took the Gorge Trail up and in due course followed Indian Trail down. I have been mentioning my use of the camera throughout the trip but this day we were obviously under equipped in that respect, it was “tripod day” ever twist and turn of the gorge was accompanied by a photographer complete with tripod pointing thousands of dollars of equipment up or down the running water. They mainly had a long-suffering attitude which grudgingly allowed us to share the park with them as long as we showed proper respect.
The path up the gorge was impressive, not Niagara impressive but still beautiful, and on several occasions we had to pass behind the falls and here there was no glass between us and the water. No rain capes had been issued but I was less protective of the camera having seen what it could withstand.
We followed a group of college boys up the trail and, being younger and fitter than us, they would have left us far behind except for their pauses to put their lives at risk leaning over big drops and sitting on bridge rails while taking and posing for photographs. My father used to remark, “the Lord looks after the stupid” often related to something I was doing, and it seems firstly he was right and, secondly, they put a lot of faith in that theory.
At the very top of the park there is the upper entrance with a picnic area with a concession stand, and outside of the park, fenced off with warning signs a disused railroad bridge. We last saw the college boys on the top span of the bridge hopefully they made their way down safely.
We came down the park by following the Indian Trail which was a quieter and dryer route than the way up. There were good views in places of the gorge but, more excitingly for us, since we presented no threat to the local Chipmunks they scampered quite close to us. I got a pleasing shot of one watching us from a tree stump.
It was perhaps 3.00pm when we returned to the car park and we then drove back into the village and parked again by the lake/marina. Here we got talking to a local sailor, who took tourists onto Lake Seneca in his yacht, he reckoned his season was almost over and he would only be going out if booked in advance. He also told us that there was a passage out of Seneca Lake meaning that he could navigate to pretty much anywhere from there. He was interested in our itinerary and was impressed by our mileage up that point but he couldn’t summon up any enthusiasm for Newport which was where we were heading in two days.
We arrived at our hotel, the Fairfield Inn Marriott without quite reaching Corning although we did pass its celebrated Museum of Glass.
The hotel was excellent and located on an estate with several shops and restaurants, we were resolved to eat locally and cheaply so we never ventured into Corning. I took a walk round the area and managed to put some credit on the AT&T phone that I had bought last year in Texas but was refusing to work this time. The credit on it previously had evaporated and I had to pay to add some more. I may be judging New England harshly but I felt that the same problem presented in Texas would have seen the store guy tracking down my previous credit.
My Adidas digital wristwatch had reset itself to midnight a couple of times on the trip so I started to look for a replacement but nothing took my eye.
In the immediate area, easy walking distance, there were several restaurants, a Wendy’s, a Chinese Buffet and Bob Evans, which when I looked at the menu seemed extremely reasonable. So we chose it, the food bragged about being simple and wholesome, think school dinners without the charisma. The food was filling and tasty enough but we made an error, the tea was dreadful, a tea bag of no particular flavour in water which was hot rather than boiling. After Niagara it was nice to be eating at a reasonable price and we left the restaurant having only parted with $30 including the tip.
We set off from Niagara after a most satisfactory buffet breakfast which we found opposite the front entrance of the hotel, in a diner style building possibly related to the “My Cousin Vinny’s” restaurant. The set price was reasonable and the service was excellent.
We had a journey of some 150 miles and two hours forty minutes ahead of us so we set off shortly after breakfast. We found our way to the Rainbow Bridge and crossed it to the USA. I would love to tell you that we were greeted like long lost friends by the American Immigration service but they, in the person of the officer at the check point, were equally gruff and businesslike as our Canadian. Being fair I suspect that most interactions at the border are filmed for security purposes and no official would want to be seen laughing and joking with us if we were later identified as terrorists, although I do remember filling in a form previously where I promised that I was not.
Niagara had marked a middle point in our adventure and we were now making our way back to New England proper in a two day drive across New York State which doesn’t count.
We had decided to stop off at Watkins Glen State Park on our way to Corning because our notes from American Driving Vacations said cryptically, “If you did not have the opportunity to visit WGSP, you can do so on the way to Corning” Looking at our route map I cannot imagine any part of our previous journey that had passed close enough to make dropping in even remotely possible.
It was also a good thing that we reached Watkins Glen as we were nearing Corning so much of the journey was out of the way. We pulled into the State Park parking lot, having paid our $8 per car, at the bottom entrance of the park. We were notified that there was no shuttle bus running back down from the top of the park but we would not have taken it anyway.
Watkins Glen State Park is located on the edge of the village of Watkins Glen, New York, south of Seneca Lake in Schuyler County. The main feature of the park is the hiking trail that climbs up through the gorge, passing over and under waterfalls. The park has a lower part that is next to the village and an upper part that is open woodland.
Watkins Glen State Park is in a 400-foot-deep narrow gorge cut through rock by a stream that was left hanging when glaciers of the Ice age deepened the Seneca valley, increasing the tributary stream gradient to create rapids and waterfalls wherever there were layers of hard rock. The rocks of the area are sedimentary of Devonian age that are part of a dissected plateau that was uplifted with little faulting or distortion. They consist mostly of soft shales, with some layers of harder sandstone and limestone. The park features a trail by which one can climb or descend the gorge. Hundreds of stone steps climb over, under, and along the waterfalls. There are three trails: Indian, Gorge and Southern Rim. The Gorge and Southern Rim trails are closer to the waterfalls. The Indian trail takes you to the upper entrance, through the woods.
We took the Gorge Trail up and in due course followed Indian Trail down. I have been mentioning my use of the camera throughout the trip but this day we were obviously under equipped in that respect, it was “tripod day” ever twist and turn of the gorge was accompanied by a photographer complete with tripod pointing thousands of dollars of equipment up or down the running water. They mainly had a long-suffering attitude which grudgingly allowed us to share the park with them as long as we showed proper respect.
The path up the gorge was impressive, not Niagara impressive but still beautiful, and on several occasions we had to pass behind the falls and here there was no glass between us and the water. No rain capes had been issued but I was less protective of the camera having seen what it could withstand.
We followed a group of college boys up the trail and, being younger and fitter than us, they would have left us far behind except for their pauses to put their lives at risk leaning over big drops and sitting on bridge rails while taking and posing for photographs. My father used to remark, “the Lord looks after the stupid” often related to something I was doing, and it seems firstly he was right and, secondly, they put a lot of faith in that theory.
At the very top of the park there is the upper entrance with a picnic area with a concession stand, and outside of the park, fenced off with warning signs a disused railroad bridge. We last saw the college boys on the top span of the bridge hopefully they made their way down safely.
We came down the park by following the Indian Trail which was a quieter and dryer route than the way up. There were good views in places of the gorge but, more excitingly for us, since we presented no threat to the local Chipmunks they scampered quite close to us. I got a pleasing shot of one watching us from a tree stump.
It was perhaps 3.00pm when we returned to the car park and we then drove back into the village and parked again by the lake/marina. Here we got talking to a local sailor, who took tourists onto Lake Seneca in his yacht, he reckoned his season was almost over and he would only be going out if booked in advance. He also told us that there was a passage out of Seneca Lake meaning that he could navigate to pretty much anywhere from there. He was interested in our itinerary and was impressed by our mileage up that point but he couldn’t summon up any enthusiasm for Newport which was where we were heading in two days.
We arrived at our hotel, the Fairfield Inn Marriott without quite reaching Corning although we did pass its celebrated Museum of Glass.
The hotel was excellent and located on an estate with several shops and restaurants, we were resolved to eat locally and cheaply so we never ventured into Corning. I took a walk round the area and managed to put some credit on the AT&T phone that I had bought last year in Texas but was refusing to work this time. The credit on it previously had evaporated and I had to pay to add some more. I may be judging New England harshly but I felt that the same problem presented in Texas would have seen the store guy tracking down my previous credit.
My Adidas digital wristwatch had reset itself to midnight a couple of times on the trip so I started to look for a replacement but nothing took my eye.
In the immediate area, easy walking distance, there were several restaurants, a Wendy’s, a Chinese Buffet and Bob Evans, which when I looked at the menu seemed extremely reasonable. So we chose it, the food bragged about being simple and wholesome, think school dinners without the charisma. The food was filling and tasty enough but we made an error, the tea was dreadful, a tea bag of no particular flavour in water which was hot rather than boiling. After Niagara it was nice to be eating at a reasonable price and we left the restaurant having only parted with $30 including the tip.
Monday, 8 November 2010
New England – Fall 2010 – Day 10: Niagara Falls
Julia threw open the curtains at about 8.00am and enjoyed the view as would have anyone glancing our way as she was straight out of bed and wearing nothing, such was her excitement about the place we found ourselves. We have remarked several times that we need to pinch ourselves to test if we are dreaming, since retirement we have seen amongst other places Pompeii, The Pyramids of Gisa, Mount Vesuvius, Venice and now Niagara Falls. Julia being a geologist finds the natural sights the most exciting and the falls had her gripped.
We retraced my steps from the day before and found the IHOP, but, as it was attached to another hotel, it was expensive to eat the basic stack of three pancakes.
After breakfast we set off to explore the falls area. We refused the hillside railway and looked for an alternative way down to the water’s edge which we failed to find; reluctantly we paid up for the railway. A journey of about three minutes down the hillside took us to the Table Rock House Plaza where we were to purchase our attraction tickets. The Joint ticket which gave us four attractions seemed expensive so we decided to buy a ticket to “Behind the Falls” and later one to ride on the “Maid of the Mist”. However after enjoying the view from a midway observation platform we saw the huge line for the “Behind the Falls”, I offered to go back and buy a joint ticket as there had been no line there. When I returned the line had shrunk dramatically but we still gained a small advantage as we were able to go in ahead of those queuing by taking the pre paid line.
We were photographed against a blue screen in order that we could select the backdrop of our choice on our return through. It seems strange that one of nature’s wonders is right there but they fake the photographs using computer effects, I cannot understand why they don’t make me taller and thinner and put me in front of the Grand Canyon!
After the photograph we were given yellow rain capes to protect us from the spray.
To quote the brochure:
Visitors to Niagara Falls can enjoy the thunder of the waters from a completely different perspective by visiting The Journey Behind The Falls attraction. The observation platform at the base of the falls is easily reached by elevators and a network of tunnels. Two other tunnels provide a close-up view of the Falls from behind. The tunnels extend only 46 metres behind the waterfall, so there is not a lot of walking and you can explore it all at your leisure: the excursion is completely self-guided.
The view of the falls through the openings at the end of the tunnels is merely of a solid sheet of water but the awe comes from the noise and vibration caused by the volume of water rushing down. After being behind the falls we emerged onto an observation platform and photographed and videoed the horse shoe shaped falls. While we were there the Maid of the Mist arrived at the foot of the falls, it pushed its engines hard to get deep into the spray where it held its position for several minutes before retreating. I’m sure the force of the water pushes the boat down river without much help from the engine. The demand for the boat trip is such that at any given moment there are three Maids of the Mist in action.
As we left the BTF area we took in the “Niagara’s Fury – The Creation of the Falls” the least impressive of our four attractions. Once again we were issued with rain capes and we stood and watched a folksy film about a beaver on school detention having to write an essay on the geology that created the Falls – I thought Julia might be spellbound by this but no it was a bit too Alvin and the Chipmunks even for her! Following the film we were ushered into a circular area, suspiciously with a metal grid for a floor, and told to hang onto the supports which rose from the floor. Now we experienced the Fury!!!
To quote;
The temperature will drop. Water will bubble and spray while snow falls all around. Standing on a massive platform you will feel the wrath of Mother Nature as the floor tilts and trembles beneath you. This is Niagara's Fury! Niagara Parks has recreated the amazing sights and sounds of the Creation of Niagara Falls. Incredible images developed with technology used previously only in satellites and medicine will immerse you in a 4D Universal Studios-style attraction.
If you are me you’ll struggle to be impressed.
We handed in our rain capes and moved on towards the Maid of the Mist.
We passed in our voucher, got issued with blue rain capes and boarded the next boat, within minutes we set off past the American Falls noting as we went the smaller falls alongside, called the Bridesmaid. The American Falls is higher than the Canadian and more dangerous because of there being more rocks at its base so nobody has ever attempted to go over them in a barrel.
Before we reached the Canadian Falls we had the spot pointed out where a young boy was picked up alive having been swept over the Falls in a small canoe wearing only a life jacket – his father was with him but didn’t survive. The boy was picked up by one of the MOTM’s which was carrying tourists at the time.
As we neared the base of the falls we were drenched by the spray, deafened by the noise and struggling against the water pressure – we were so impressed!
We have some great pictures and video - despite my worrying both cameras survived – I was really fearful for their survival when every surface was wet to the touch.
Next we caught the free people mover along the shoreline to the final of our booked attractions, the White Water Walk. Here we again took an elevator down to the river side and walked along a boardwalk slightly above the river close enough to fully appreciate the power of the rapids and the speed of the river. At the start of the walk there was a display of the feats of daring attempted in the area. Look up Daredevils of Niagara Falls on Google or your favourite search engine it has to be read to be believed. Here are some examples:
Going over the falls in a barrel:
July 11th 1920 - Englishman Charles G. Stephens equipped his wooden barrel with an anvil for ballast. Charles tied himself to the anvil for security. After the plunge, Chuck’s right arm was the only item left in the barrel.
July 5th 1930 - A Greek waiter named George L. Statakis suffocated to death after his barrel was trapped behind the falls for more than 14 hours.
The one I remember from the display was a woman who went over the falls in a barrel accompanied by her pet dog, she suffocated in the barrel before she was rescued because her dog blocked the only air hole by putting its nose through it thus cutting off any air into the barrel but surviving itself – Man’s best friend?
Tightrope walking over the Falls:
On June 30, 1859, the “Great Blondin” walked along a tightrope suspended above the rapids of Niagara Falls, becoming the first man to walk across the Falls. His first tightrope walk across Niagara Falls earned him international fame, and he repeated the walk in many different fashions. According to the Niagara Parks Commission, by his career’s end, Blondin had crossed Niagara Falls on tightrope while carrying a wheelbarrow, cooking an omelet, carrying his manager on his back, and doing a somersault on stilts. The number of times Blondin crossed Niagara varies by account from eight to 21.
It was a restful finish to the attractions and we were able to catch the free bus back to the hotel. After a brew in our room, once again Julia had a swim or bath while I took some great photos of the Canadian falls with a rainbow caused by the sun shining through the mist. I was also charged with finding the evening’s restaurant and I chose “My Cousin Vinney’s” party due to my affection for the film of the same name and partly because I thought it was unconnected to any hotel.
Sadly I was wrong on the second count and the place charged like a wounded bull, we passed the $70 mark for the first and only time and the meal was no better than average.
However Julia refused to be downhearted as we went to bed with one of the great sights of the world.
We retraced my steps from the day before and found the IHOP, but, as it was attached to another hotel, it was expensive to eat the basic stack of three pancakes.
After breakfast we set off to explore the falls area. We refused the hillside railway and looked for an alternative way down to the water’s edge which we failed to find; reluctantly we paid up for the railway. A journey of about three minutes down the hillside took us to the Table Rock House Plaza where we were to purchase our attraction tickets. The Joint ticket which gave us four attractions seemed expensive so we decided to buy a ticket to “Behind the Falls” and later one to ride on the “Maid of the Mist”. However after enjoying the view from a midway observation platform we saw the huge line for the “Behind the Falls”, I offered to go back and buy a joint ticket as there had been no line there. When I returned the line had shrunk dramatically but we still gained a small advantage as we were able to go in ahead of those queuing by taking the pre paid line.
We were photographed against a blue screen in order that we could select the backdrop of our choice on our return through. It seems strange that one of nature’s wonders is right there but they fake the photographs using computer effects, I cannot understand why they don’t make me taller and thinner and put me in front of the Grand Canyon!
After the photograph we were given yellow rain capes to protect us from the spray.
To quote the brochure:
Visitors to Niagara Falls can enjoy the thunder of the waters from a completely different perspective by visiting The Journey Behind The Falls attraction. The observation platform at the base of the falls is easily reached by elevators and a network of tunnels. Two other tunnels provide a close-up view of the Falls from behind. The tunnels extend only 46 metres behind the waterfall, so there is not a lot of walking and you can explore it all at your leisure: the excursion is completely self-guided.
The view of the falls through the openings at the end of the tunnels is merely of a solid sheet of water but the awe comes from the noise and vibration caused by the volume of water rushing down. After being behind the falls we emerged onto an observation platform and photographed and videoed the horse shoe shaped falls. While we were there the Maid of the Mist arrived at the foot of the falls, it pushed its engines hard to get deep into the spray where it held its position for several minutes before retreating. I’m sure the force of the water pushes the boat down river without much help from the engine. The demand for the boat trip is such that at any given moment there are three Maids of the Mist in action.
As we left the BTF area we took in the “Niagara’s Fury – The Creation of the Falls” the least impressive of our four attractions. Once again we were issued with rain capes and we stood and watched a folksy film about a beaver on school detention having to write an essay on the geology that created the Falls – I thought Julia might be spellbound by this but no it was a bit too Alvin and the Chipmunks even for her! Following the film we were ushered into a circular area, suspiciously with a metal grid for a floor, and told to hang onto the supports which rose from the floor. Now we experienced the Fury!!!
To quote;
The temperature will drop. Water will bubble and spray while snow falls all around. Standing on a massive platform you will feel the wrath of Mother Nature as the floor tilts and trembles beneath you. This is Niagara's Fury! Niagara Parks has recreated the amazing sights and sounds of the Creation of Niagara Falls. Incredible images developed with technology used previously only in satellites and medicine will immerse you in a 4D Universal Studios-style attraction.
If you are me you’ll struggle to be impressed.
We handed in our rain capes and moved on towards the Maid of the Mist.
We passed in our voucher, got issued with blue rain capes and boarded the next boat, within minutes we set off past the American Falls noting as we went the smaller falls alongside, called the Bridesmaid. The American Falls is higher than the Canadian and more dangerous because of there being more rocks at its base so nobody has ever attempted to go over them in a barrel.
Before we reached the Canadian Falls we had the spot pointed out where a young boy was picked up alive having been swept over the Falls in a small canoe wearing only a life jacket – his father was with him but didn’t survive. The boy was picked up by one of the MOTM’s which was carrying tourists at the time.
As we neared the base of the falls we were drenched by the spray, deafened by the noise and struggling against the water pressure – we were so impressed!
We have some great pictures and video - despite my worrying both cameras survived – I was really fearful for their survival when every surface was wet to the touch.
Next we caught the free people mover along the shoreline to the final of our booked attractions, the White Water Walk. Here we again took an elevator down to the river side and walked along a boardwalk slightly above the river close enough to fully appreciate the power of the rapids and the speed of the river. At the start of the walk there was a display of the feats of daring attempted in the area. Look up Daredevils of Niagara Falls on Google or your favourite search engine it has to be read to be believed. Here are some examples:
Going over the falls in a barrel:
July 11th 1920 - Englishman Charles G. Stephens equipped his wooden barrel with an anvil for ballast. Charles tied himself to the anvil for security. After the plunge, Chuck’s right arm was the only item left in the barrel.
July 5th 1930 - A Greek waiter named George L. Statakis suffocated to death after his barrel was trapped behind the falls for more than 14 hours.
The one I remember from the display was a woman who went over the falls in a barrel accompanied by her pet dog, she suffocated in the barrel before she was rescued because her dog blocked the only air hole by putting its nose through it thus cutting off any air into the barrel but surviving itself – Man’s best friend?
Tightrope walking over the Falls:
On June 30, 1859, the “Great Blondin” walked along a tightrope suspended above the rapids of Niagara Falls, becoming the first man to walk across the Falls. His first tightrope walk across Niagara Falls earned him international fame, and he repeated the walk in many different fashions. According to the Niagara Parks Commission, by his career’s end, Blondin had crossed Niagara Falls on tightrope while carrying a wheelbarrow, cooking an omelet, carrying his manager on his back, and doing a somersault on stilts. The number of times Blondin crossed Niagara varies by account from eight to 21.
It was a restful finish to the attractions and we were able to catch the free bus back to the hotel. After a brew in our room, once again Julia had a swim or bath while I took some great photos of the Canadian falls with a rainbow caused by the sun shining through the mist. I was also charged with finding the evening’s restaurant and I chose “My Cousin Vinney’s” party due to my affection for the film of the same name and partly because I thought it was unconnected to any hotel.
Sadly I was wrong on the second count and the place charged like a wounded bull, we passed the $70 mark for the first and only time and the meal was no better than average.
However Julia refused to be downhearted as we went to bed with one of the great sights of the world.
New England – Fall 2010 – Day 9: Watertown to Niagara Falls
We were hoping to enjoy some time in Sackets Harbor before travelling along the coast roads towards Niagara; this meant that we rose relatively early in order to get on the road.
Breakfast was included in our deal and it was one of the best on our travels. The real treat was the egg and omelettes chef who was also a baseball nut and a Red Sox fan. He tipped the Yankees to lose in the first round of the American League playoffs against the Minnesota Twins; he was entirely convincing as to how they completely failed to match up and were, anyway, in a slump limping into the playoffs. The fact that he was a Red Sox fan may have coloured his opinion because the Yankees progressed 3-0 to meet the Texas Rangers.
Once again there was a sizable contingent of soldiers and their families eating breakfast but also we had another set of bikers sporting their leathers and Harley Davison clothing.
We left Watertown without regrets but unfortunately when we got to Sackets Harbor we found that the museums were closed, but we were able to walk round the battle ground walk. We followed the numbered signs and explanations and formed some impressions of the battle. It appears, from memory rather than research, that the final result was a score draw. The British forces landed at Sackets Harbor with the objective of capturing the town and the ship-building facilities, with a secondary purpose of capturing or destroying the American supplies stored there. They failed to do both this but when it looked like the Americans were going to be overwhelmed someone panicked and destroyed the supplies to avoid losing them to the British. The British were finally repelled but by default they had achieved part of their plan.
We watched a pair of eagles patrolling the airspace over the battle ground walk and at times they stooped to earth quite near to us but never quite in camera shot.
Very much at the end of our tour the rain returned and we decided to make our way as straight as possible to Niagara.
We were aware that we were booked into the Canadian side of the falls so we couldn’t use the SatNav which only had the USA loaded. I got round this problem by setting it for Buffalo NY and assuming anything as large as a country would be signed from there. I then used Google to look up a route from the Canadian border to the hotel using street names.
The plan worked and we found ourselves approaching the USA Canada border. The immigration booths were very much like the toll booths we had become accustomed to on our travels, thus Julia was following the car in front oblivious to notices. The fourteen year old Canadian official yelled through his speaker system, “Get back to the stop sign!”
We retreated and advanced again only when signaled forward, but by now the young man was, as my mother would say, “drunk with power”. He greeted us with, “Did you see the sign that time?”
There was no easing of the attitude as we admitted that we were indeed foreign to his shores and we had to give a fairly detailed account of most of our lives leading up to this meeting, and a less detailed description of our future plans.
We were eventually allowed to enter his country where it was to emerge that plans were already in place to fleece us of as much currency as possible.
After some small navigational problems we located the hotel. Not Best Western this time but the Oakes Hotel Overlooking The Falls, we had specified a higher tariff hotel to guarantee a memorable experience, and in fairness it was memorable.
Let me digress, I have a very variable amount of sympathy for victims of scams, at one end of the spectrum is the victim who receives an email from a bank, where they actually have an account, asking them to confirm their security details, when they comply the recipient of their information uses it to rob them. They may have been unsophisticated and trusting but they still get my sympathy.
At the other end of the spectrum, I regularly get emails which ask me permission to use my name and personal details to claim money left in a foreign bank after the account holder has met with a tragic accident. This is clearly an invitation for me to enter into a fraud and therefore I have no sympathy for anyone who provides their personal details and thus gets robbed.
Taking all of the above into account you can chose if you wish to extend your sympathy to us being “scammed” by the hotel, in all this hotel they must have about a dozen rooms which face away from the falls, we collected our room key and pulled our luggage to our assigned room on the second floor, it faced the car park not the falls. I returned to reception and explained our situation, and sure enough there were upgrades available at $20 per night.
Now having two agencies, DialAFlight and American Driving Vacations, dealing on our behalf did not help my case, as I couldn’t categorically state that we had asked for a falls view and our instruction had been passed on. The $40 was money well spent but I remain convinced that there would have been a regular parade of people arriving at a non-falls view and being charged to upgrade. Reading reviews of the hotel have since confirmed my theory.
When we transferred rooms it involved going up and down a small flight of stairs in the corridor, as I did the down leg dragging the smaller bag on wheels, there was a snapping sound and I had the handle in my hand and the bag three steps behind me on the floor.
Julia turned on hearing my expletive, saw the handle and said, “Where did you get that from?”
I collapsed in laughter and promised her maximum exposure for her remark.
We found our way to the replacement room on the eleventh floor and the view was mind-blowing, we were ideally placed to see the Canadian falls but also had a good view of the American falls in the middle distance. The power of the water is such that there is a permanent plume of water vapour rising from the rocks below the drop.
The room was also clearly better than the previous one but that only tended to confirm my suspicions. We unpacked and while Julia had a swim I took a wander to see what restaurants were available and to pick up milk and cookies to go with our afternoon tea. Although I got caught in the next shower I completed both parts of my mission and returned to the room to brew up.
We decided to eat early to have an early night in preparation for a long day enjoying the falls.
We ate at the attached Applebee’s restaurant and were shocked that it was much more expensive than we had expected, we put this down to the fact that it served the hotel trade and not the locals. Insult was added to injury when we were later in bed watching TV and an advert appeared for “One starter and two Mains for £20” and I thought that will be Chilis but no it was Applebee’s and had never been offered to us in any shape or form, both our entrees were over $20 each.
While I watched TV Julia insisted on having the curtains open so that she could see the falls as she lay in bed. At night they are illuminated by floodlights of changing colours and the mist reflects the colours to increase the magic. At midnight the lights are switched off and Julia drew the curtains.
Breakfast was included in our deal and it was one of the best on our travels. The real treat was the egg and omelettes chef who was also a baseball nut and a Red Sox fan. He tipped the Yankees to lose in the first round of the American League playoffs against the Minnesota Twins; he was entirely convincing as to how they completely failed to match up and were, anyway, in a slump limping into the playoffs. The fact that he was a Red Sox fan may have coloured his opinion because the Yankees progressed 3-0 to meet the Texas Rangers.
Once again there was a sizable contingent of soldiers and their families eating breakfast but also we had another set of bikers sporting their leathers and Harley Davison clothing.
We left Watertown without regrets but unfortunately when we got to Sackets Harbor we found that the museums were closed, but we were able to walk round the battle ground walk. We followed the numbered signs and explanations and formed some impressions of the battle. It appears, from memory rather than research, that the final result was a score draw. The British forces landed at Sackets Harbor with the objective of capturing the town and the ship-building facilities, with a secondary purpose of capturing or destroying the American supplies stored there. They failed to do both this but when it looked like the Americans were going to be overwhelmed someone panicked and destroyed the supplies to avoid losing them to the British. The British were finally repelled but by default they had achieved part of their plan.
We watched a pair of eagles patrolling the airspace over the battle ground walk and at times they stooped to earth quite near to us but never quite in camera shot.
Very much at the end of our tour the rain returned and we decided to make our way as straight as possible to Niagara.
We were aware that we were booked into the Canadian side of the falls so we couldn’t use the SatNav which only had the USA loaded. I got round this problem by setting it for Buffalo NY and assuming anything as large as a country would be signed from there. I then used Google to look up a route from the Canadian border to the hotel using street names.
The plan worked and we found ourselves approaching the USA Canada border. The immigration booths were very much like the toll booths we had become accustomed to on our travels, thus Julia was following the car in front oblivious to notices. The fourteen year old Canadian official yelled through his speaker system, “Get back to the stop sign!”
We retreated and advanced again only when signaled forward, but by now the young man was, as my mother would say, “drunk with power”. He greeted us with, “Did you see the sign that time?”
There was no easing of the attitude as we admitted that we were indeed foreign to his shores and we had to give a fairly detailed account of most of our lives leading up to this meeting, and a less detailed description of our future plans.
We were eventually allowed to enter his country where it was to emerge that plans were already in place to fleece us of as much currency as possible.
After some small navigational problems we located the hotel. Not Best Western this time but the Oakes Hotel Overlooking The Falls, we had specified a higher tariff hotel to guarantee a memorable experience, and in fairness it was memorable.
Let me digress, I have a very variable amount of sympathy for victims of scams, at one end of the spectrum is the victim who receives an email from a bank, where they actually have an account, asking them to confirm their security details, when they comply the recipient of their information uses it to rob them. They may have been unsophisticated and trusting but they still get my sympathy.
At the other end of the spectrum, I regularly get emails which ask me permission to use my name and personal details to claim money left in a foreign bank after the account holder has met with a tragic accident. This is clearly an invitation for me to enter into a fraud and therefore I have no sympathy for anyone who provides their personal details and thus gets robbed.
Taking all of the above into account you can chose if you wish to extend your sympathy to us being “scammed” by the hotel, in all this hotel they must have about a dozen rooms which face away from the falls, we collected our room key and pulled our luggage to our assigned room on the second floor, it faced the car park not the falls. I returned to reception and explained our situation, and sure enough there were upgrades available at $20 per night.
Now having two agencies, DialAFlight and American Driving Vacations, dealing on our behalf did not help my case, as I couldn’t categorically state that we had asked for a falls view and our instruction had been passed on. The $40 was money well spent but I remain convinced that there would have been a regular parade of people arriving at a non-falls view and being charged to upgrade. Reading reviews of the hotel have since confirmed my theory.
When we transferred rooms it involved going up and down a small flight of stairs in the corridor, as I did the down leg dragging the smaller bag on wheels, there was a snapping sound and I had the handle in my hand and the bag three steps behind me on the floor.
Julia turned on hearing my expletive, saw the handle and said, “Where did you get that from?”
I collapsed in laughter and promised her maximum exposure for her remark.
We found our way to the replacement room on the eleventh floor and the view was mind-blowing, we were ideally placed to see the Canadian falls but also had a good view of the American falls in the middle distance. The power of the water is such that there is a permanent plume of water vapour rising from the rocks below the drop.
The room was also clearly better than the previous one but that only tended to confirm my suspicions. We unpacked and while Julia had a swim I took a wander to see what restaurants were available and to pick up milk and cookies to go with our afternoon tea. Although I got caught in the next shower I completed both parts of my mission and returned to the room to brew up.
We decided to eat early to have an early night in preparation for a long day enjoying the falls.
We ate at the attached Applebee’s restaurant and were shocked that it was much more expensive than we had expected, we put this down to the fact that it served the hotel trade and not the locals. Insult was added to injury when we were later in bed watching TV and an advert appeared for “One starter and two Mains for £20” and I thought that will be Chilis but no it was Applebee’s and had never been offered to us in any shape or form, both our entrees were over $20 each.
While I watched TV Julia insisted on having the curtains open so that she could see the falls as she lay in bed. At night they are illuminated by floodlights of changing colours and the mist reflects the colours to increase the magic. At midnight the lights are switched off and Julia drew the curtains.
Thursday, 4 November 2010
New England – Fall 2010 – Day 8 : Saranac Lake to Watertown
The only arrangement offered at the hotel for breakfast was the restaurant next door to the hotel but we had already found it to be expensive so we had plan B to fall back on. We packed up and checked out we drove up the main street to the service station and bought a breakfast roll from the Subway franchise inside.
Having eaten we returned to the car and checked out our options on the way to Watertown. We inserted the addresses of various attractions into the SatNav and checked the distances involved and times estimated to visit them. Out of several possibilities the Wild Center was the nearest and had the extra bonus of being broadly in the correct direction – we logged in the details and set off.
The directions were good and we arrived at the Wild Center, AKA the Natural History Museum of the Adirondacks. This is a natural history museum that opened July 4, 2006 in New York state's Adirondack Park The museum occupies a 31-acre site in the town of Tupper Lake, New York, the approximate geographic center of the six million acre Adirondack Park. The museum features live exhibits and live animals, including river otters, birds, amphibians and fish. There’s an indoor waterfall and river, towering glacial ice wall, high-definition films, and wide-screen theatre on 31-acre trail-filled campus. The new museum mixes up the indoors and outdoors. There are waterfalls inside, and exhibit labels in the woods outside. Indoors a marsh appears to flow into a real pond that laps at the outside of the building, and the calls of live owls and otters mix with the splashing cascade of a trout-filled indoor stream. High definition films explore the region and showcase fascinating reports from field scientists researching everything from moose to loons to alpine summits.
We decided that since it was raining again, we would limit ourselves to the inside exhibits and they were good value. To be fair we both enjoyed the female otter which decided to put on a display of speed swimming in her private pool – her turns and flips were rather too quick for my camera/reflexes and I now have a great series of shots of disturbed water and a flash of tail leaving the picture.
I was less impressed than Julia, the geologist, with the working model of a glacier breaking up, but I suppose I should be grateful that Julia has a soft spot for old things that creak, moan and fall apart!
It was overall a brilliantly put together educational experience and I’m sure if Julia was still teaching she would be planning a Rosliston School field trip as we speak.
We watched a film about the re-establishment of the Moose into the Adirondacks and I resisted the temptation to try and get a convincing photo of the filmed moose to try and persuade people that we had seen one for real. After a while I became less self-critical because we decided that all the film coverage was of one moose, possibly an uncharacteristically extrovert amongst its kind.
One piece of information which lingers with me is that, if I remember it correctly, the Adirondacks wolf was hunted to extinction and that, in itself, caused a population explosion of its prey species and then in turn the coyote population increased as there was less competition for their prey, now studies of coyote DNA reveal that there is a strand of wolf DNA appearing in more and more of the coyotes – it looks like the wolves have decided on a more subtle repopulation strategy!
It was about noon when we left the Wild Center and there was another three hours in front of us before we were to reach Watertown. We made good progress and for the last 45 minutes we travelled alongside areas of land fenced off and with US Army signs forbidding entry. We found out later that this area is Fort Drum and Watertown is a very military town.
We arrived at the Best Western Carriage House on a busy street in Watertown but we felt already that Watertown was struggling and in the grip of the economic situation. The hotel had a high proportion of Army personnel and army families as guests, both men and women were in camouflage uniforms and there were at least three dog handlers with their dogs. Having checked in and been assigned to one of the better rooms on our travels we took a walk and our impression of the town did not improve. We retreated to the hotel and the rain arrived again to further dampen our spirits.
We felt quite lucky that we had opted for the Asian Buffet the previous evening rather than the Mexican Restaurant close to the hotel in Saranac Lake because the hotel had a Mexican Restaurant and nothing outside had tempted us.
That evening we enjoyed the Mexican meal and a very welcome Mexican beer. The military presence was very notable in both the bar and dinning area and as the diners finished their meals nearly all of them settled their bills individually and mainly courtesy of Uncle Sam, some of the diners split the food from the drink and I’m guessing had to pay for the drink themselves.
Although it was a high standard room and the members of staff were all very pleasant, the stay was spoiled for Julia by being disturbed by traffic up and down the corridor outside the room. In the king size bed I remained unaware of Julia’s problems – I slept well.
Having eaten we returned to the car and checked out our options on the way to Watertown. We inserted the addresses of various attractions into the SatNav and checked the distances involved and times estimated to visit them. Out of several possibilities the Wild Center was the nearest and had the extra bonus of being broadly in the correct direction – we logged in the details and set off.
The directions were good and we arrived at the Wild Center, AKA the Natural History Museum of the Adirondacks. This is a natural history museum that opened July 4, 2006 in New York state's Adirondack Park The museum occupies a 31-acre site in the town of Tupper Lake, New York, the approximate geographic center of the six million acre Adirondack Park. The museum features live exhibits and live animals, including river otters, birds, amphibians and fish. There’s an indoor waterfall and river, towering glacial ice wall, high-definition films, and wide-screen theatre on 31-acre trail-filled campus. The new museum mixes up the indoors and outdoors. There are waterfalls inside, and exhibit labels in the woods outside. Indoors a marsh appears to flow into a real pond that laps at the outside of the building, and the calls of live owls and otters mix with the splashing cascade of a trout-filled indoor stream. High definition films explore the region and showcase fascinating reports from field scientists researching everything from moose to loons to alpine summits.
We decided that since it was raining again, we would limit ourselves to the inside exhibits and they were good value. To be fair we both enjoyed the female otter which decided to put on a display of speed swimming in her private pool – her turns and flips were rather too quick for my camera/reflexes and I now have a great series of shots of disturbed water and a flash of tail leaving the picture.
I was less impressed than Julia, the geologist, with the working model of a glacier breaking up, but I suppose I should be grateful that Julia has a soft spot for old things that creak, moan and fall apart!
It was overall a brilliantly put together educational experience and I’m sure if Julia was still teaching she would be planning a Rosliston School field trip as we speak.
We watched a film about the re-establishment of the Moose into the Adirondacks and I resisted the temptation to try and get a convincing photo of the filmed moose to try and persuade people that we had seen one for real. After a while I became less self-critical because we decided that all the film coverage was of one moose, possibly an uncharacteristically extrovert amongst its kind.
One piece of information which lingers with me is that, if I remember it correctly, the Adirondacks wolf was hunted to extinction and that, in itself, caused a population explosion of its prey species and then in turn the coyote population increased as there was less competition for their prey, now studies of coyote DNA reveal that there is a strand of wolf DNA appearing in more and more of the coyotes – it looks like the wolves have decided on a more subtle repopulation strategy!
It was about noon when we left the Wild Center and there was another three hours in front of us before we were to reach Watertown. We made good progress and for the last 45 minutes we travelled alongside areas of land fenced off and with US Army signs forbidding entry. We found out later that this area is Fort Drum and Watertown is a very military town.
We arrived at the Best Western Carriage House on a busy street in Watertown but we felt already that Watertown was struggling and in the grip of the economic situation. The hotel had a high proportion of Army personnel and army families as guests, both men and women were in camouflage uniforms and there were at least three dog handlers with their dogs. Having checked in and been assigned to one of the better rooms on our travels we took a walk and our impression of the town did not improve. We retreated to the hotel and the rain arrived again to further dampen our spirits.
We felt quite lucky that we had opted for the Asian Buffet the previous evening rather than the Mexican Restaurant close to the hotel in Saranac Lake because the hotel had a Mexican Restaurant and nothing outside had tempted us.
That evening we enjoyed the Mexican meal and a very welcome Mexican beer. The military presence was very notable in both the bar and dinning area and as the diners finished their meals nearly all of them settled their bills individually and mainly courtesy of Uncle Sam, some of the diners split the food from the drink and I’m guessing had to pay for the drink themselves.
Although it was a high standard room and the members of staff were all very pleasant, the stay was spoiled for Julia by being disturbed by traffic up and down the corridor outside the room. In the king size bed I remained unaware of Julia’s problems – I slept well.
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
New England – Fall 2010 – Day 7: Bennington to Saranac Lake
We had the Best Western buffet breakfast and got ourselves on the road as soon as we could. The Motel had been full during our stay and again there had been bus tours amongst the guests but our favourite fellow guests were the bikers. In the parking lot there were several Harley Davison motor bikes but the riders were at least our age and wearing leather and H-D branded clothing. I guess that the price of such bikes is too much for the younger generation.
We needed gas (petrol) for our onward trip and once again we marveled at the price, it only cost us $25 to fill the tank in a car the size of a Ford Focus while at home it costs the equivalent of $120 to fill my Mondeo. Despite our need for petrol we couldn’t bring ourselves to buy from Charles Wells who has a filling station near to the hotel which is also a gun dealership.
The mileage to Saranac Lake was listed as 150 miles but the estimated journey time was almost three hours indicating a slower set of roads. Also when we consulted a map we realised that to go from Franconia to Bennington we had zigged south-west and to reach Saranac we were zagging North West and if we had cut out Bennington we would have travelled almost due West. All this meant that we needed to get the best out of Bennington on our way onwards, we checked out three of the five covered bridges and they were worth the detour.
We also stopped at Lake George and found, from there, The Prospect Mountain Veterans Memorial Highway which is a parkway located in the town of Lake George, New York. The parkway passes through a gate, heading up the base of Prospect Mountain. The route is very scenic, with trees on both sides of the road. Soon after, the parkway passes over Interstate 87 (I-87, named the Adirondack Northway). Then the parkway begins to head up the mountain. There are large heavy, stabilized rocks on both sides of the road, which act as a guard rail to prevent the danger of running off of the road, the parkway curves around the mountain, intersecting with several specialized scenic overlooks. The road curves around the several peaks of Prospect Mountain, coming to an end at the main peak at 5.88 miles (9.46 km), where a 100-mile (161 km) view can be seen. The furthest that can be seen are the Green Mountains in Vermont and the White Mountains in New Hampshire.
We stopped at the first overlook and had a photo taken of both of us by Mr. Baylor, he was wearing a Baylor Bears sweatshirt and when we mentioned that we had visited the university at Waco, Texas, he explained that he wore the shirt because he was named Baylor! Still it is one of the few photos of us together taken on the entire tour. Mr. B was last seen offering his services as a jobbing photographer to every group or couple arriving at that parking place.
On the summit of Mount Prospect we enjoyed the excellent views and we could see the various stages of the foliage changing on the trees.
In due course we pressed on towards Saranac Lake, this stretch of the journey was through Vermont and the roads were slower and they passed through idyllic towns – it was the best of the travelling. Although we passed out of Vermont and into New York State to reach Saranac Lake via Lake Placid the areas were still very scenic. We turned a corner and there were huge structures rising out of the forest, we knew we were closing in on Lake Placid where the USA Olympic training takes place so it took little working out that these structures were the ski-jumping towers but it took considerable working out how anyone could leap off anything that height.
We arrived at and checked into the Best Western Mountain Lake in the first part of the village we reached.
The village lies within the boundaries of the Adirondack Park, about seven miles (11 km) from Lake Placid. These two villages, along with nearby Tupper Lake, comprise what is known as the Tri-Lakes region. Saranac Lake was named the best small town in New York State and ranked 11th in the United States in The 100 Best Small Towns in America. In 1998 the National Civic League named Saranac Lake an All-America City and in 2006 the village was named as one of the "Dozen Distinctive Destinations" by the National Trust for Historic Preservation. The village has 186 buildings that are listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
Having moved into our room we walked back down the main street and located the possible restaurants for the evening – we selected the “All You Can Eat Chinese Buffet”. Having made this decision Julia returned to the hotel to swim some serious lengths while I walked on beyond the hotel along the lake side. In my quest for the strangest businesses in New England I had the Doorstep Filling Station in Littleton and the Bennington Mobil station which sidelined in Guns, Ammo and archery, now I encountered the Smith’s Taxidermy. Through the windows I could see all manner of creatures, from bears to wild turkeys but strangely that wasn’t the aspect which amused me most.
The shop was locked up but on the door was a notice saying that the owner could be contacted on a number and they would arrange to meet the client within a day. I got this mental picture of a hunter dragging a moose off the back of his truck and only then reading the notice! To be fair I guess if the trophy animal is already dead then there is probably no real urgency for its first meeting with the taxidermist.
As I continued past the establishment the village became even neater and on the other side of the lake there were waterside houses which appeared to be served by boat rather than road.
Just across the road from the hotel there were two tennis courts which I felt obliged to inspect, they were in great shape and served by floodlights making them an idyllic setting for a friendly game but it would need to be friendly as the netting on the side of the court stopped about a metre from each corner leaving the vast majority of the lake side of the court unprotected. It would have taken good self control not to angle the ball off the court and into the lake if you were at all annoyed with your opponents.
I met up with Julia after her swim and we went out to the Asian Buffet quite early in the evening. The restaurant was large and busy and didn’t limit itself to Asian food; there was even a selection of pizzas! We enjoyed the meal which was excellent value and we staggered back to the hotel feeling very full.
We needed gas (petrol) for our onward trip and once again we marveled at the price, it only cost us $25 to fill the tank in a car the size of a Ford Focus while at home it costs the equivalent of $120 to fill my Mondeo. Despite our need for petrol we couldn’t bring ourselves to buy from Charles Wells who has a filling station near to the hotel which is also a gun dealership.
The mileage to Saranac Lake was listed as 150 miles but the estimated journey time was almost three hours indicating a slower set of roads. Also when we consulted a map we realised that to go from Franconia to Bennington we had zigged south-west and to reach Saranac we were zagging North West and if we had cut out Bennington we would have travelled almost due West. All this meant that we needed to get the best out of Bennington on our way onwards, we checked out three of the five covered bridges and they were worth the detour.
We also stopped at Lake George and found, from there, The Prospect Mountain Veterans Memorial Highway which is a parkway located in the town of Lake George, New York. The parkway passes through a gate, heading up the base of Prospect Mountain. The route is very scenic, with trees on both sides of the road. Soon after, the parkway passes over Interstate 87 (I-87, named the Adirondack Northway). Then the parkway begins to head up the mountain. There are large heavy, stabilized rocks on both sides of the road, which act as a guard rail to prevent the danger of running off of the road, the parkway curves around the mountain, intersecting with several specialized scenic overlooks. The road curves around the several peaks of Prospect Mountain, coming to an end at the main peak at 5.88 miles (9.46 km), where a 100-mile (161 km) view can be seen. The furthest that can be seen are the Green Mountains in Vermont and the White Mountains in New Hampshire.
We stopped at the first overlook and had a photo taken of both of us by Mr. Baylor, he was wearing a Baylor Bears sweatshirt and when we mentioned that we had visited the university at Waco, Texas, he explained that he wore the shirt because he was named Baylor! Still it is one of the few photos of us together taken on the entire tour. Mr. B was last seen offering his services as a jobbing photographer to every group or couple arriving at that parking place.
On the summit of Mount Prospect we enjoyed the excellent views and we could see the various stages of the foliage changing on the trees.
In due course we pressed on towards Saranac Lake, this stretch of the journey was through Vermont and the roads were slower and they passed through idyllic towns – it was the best of the travelling. Although we passed out of Vermont and into New York State to reach Saranac Lake via Lake Placid the areas were still very scenic. We turned a corner and there were huge structures rising out of the forest, we knew we were closing in on Lake Placid where the USA Olympic training takes place so it took little working out that these structures were the ski-jumping towers but it took considerable working out how anyone could leap off anything that height.
We arrived at and checked into the Best Western Mountain Lake in the first part of the village we reached.
The village lies within the boundaries of the Adirondack Park, about seven miles (11 km) from Lake Placid. These two villages, along with nearby Tupper Lake, comprise what is known as the Tri-Lakes region. Saranac Lake was named the best small town in New York State and ranked 11th in the United States in The 100 Best Small Towns in America. In 1998 the National Civic League named Saranac Lake an All-America City and in 2006 the village was named as one of the "Dozen Distinctive Destinations" by the National Trust for Historic Preservation. The village has 186 buildings that are listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
Having moved into our room we walked back down the main street and located the possible restaurants for the evening – we selected the “All You Can Eat Chinese Buffet”. Having made this decision Julia returned to the hotel to swim some serious lengths while I walked on beyond the hotel along the lake side. In my quest for the strangest businesses in New England I had the Doorstep Filling Station in Littleton and the Bennington Mobil station which sidelined in Guns, Ammo and archery, now I encountered the Smith’s Taxidermy. Through the windows I could see all manner of creatures, from bears to wild turkeys but strangely that wasn’t the aspect which amused me most.
The shop was locked up but on the door was a notice saying that the owner could be contacted on a number and they would arrange to meet the client within a day. I got this mental picture of a hunter dragging a moose off the back of his truck and only then reading the notice! To be fair I guess if the trophy animal is already dead then there is probably no real urgency for its first meeting with the taxidermist.
As I continued past the establishment the village became even neater and on the other side of the lake there were waterside houses which appeared to be served by boat rather than road.
Just across the road from the hotel there were two tennis courts which I felt obliged to inspect, they were in great shape and served by floodlights making them an idyllic setting for a friendly game but it would need to be friendly as the netting on the side of the court stopped about a metre from each corner leaving the vast majority of the lake side of the court unprotected. It would have taken good self control not to angle the ball off the court and into the lake if you were at all annoyed with your opponents.
I met up with Julia after her swim and we went out to the Asian Buffet quite early in the evening. The restaurant was large and busy and didn’t limit itself to Asian food; there was even a selection of pizzas! We enjoyed the meal which was excellent value and we staggered back to the hotel feeling very full.
New England – Fall 2010 – Day 6: Franconia to Bennington
The schedule now showed a series of three one night stops basically to get us to Niagara Falls which we had tacked onto the original “New England in the Fall” itinerary on the basis Niagara is too special to miss. We had an estimated three hours of driving from Franconia to Bennington but it looked like freeway all the way as it was 180 miles.
Bennington had its own attractions but we decided to take in the Flume Gorge and Visitor Center at Franconia Notch State Park, in the heart of the popular White Mountain National Forest. Discovered in 1808, the Flume is a natural gorge extending 800 feet at the base of Mount Liberty. The walls of Conway granite rise to a height of 70 to 90 feet and are 12 to 20 feet apart. The recent heavy rain had guaranteed that the water-flow would be spectacular and we were prepared for the walk which includes uphill walking and lots of stairs.
The Flume path consists of a wooden walkway suspended along the side of the cliff which takes visitors alongside the rushing stream, past whirlpools and waterfalls and over two covered bridges before ending in a pleasant forest trail loop.
If you’ve ever ridden a flume ride at the amusement park, you’ll get the basic idea. A “flume” is a geological feature formed when a plug of basalt is worn away from between two walls of harder granite—the result is a torrent of water in a steep gorge.
So after breakfast we set off – its worth mentioning at this point all our arrangements by American Driving Vacations had proved smooth and we had been expected at all our hotels, the payment voucher sometimes created more interest but was then accepted. It occurred to us at the time that we could produce similar vouchers ourselves and free-load our way across the USA – some people could get away with it but I know the tension at every check-in would destroy us.
The Flume was quite close to the hotel so we arrived mid-morning and were happy to take our time and enjoy the attraction fully. From the visitor centre onwards the Flume captivated us – looking back it was then that the whole New England experience took flight.
On a paved pathway towards the sound of running water we realised that the trees were turning through yellows towards red. Julia, the Geologist, marveled at a huge glacial boulder dropped next to the path many centuries ago then we met the water for the first time. It was flowing swiftly under a covered bridge. It truly was New England!
Since retirement we have enjoyed the digital camera but struggled to get the best from our newest camcorder, sites like the flume should change all that. Julia used the camcorder and, for once I, was envious of its potential – we must get into downloading video and assembling it into a watchable film of our exploits.
It’s fair to say that the flume teases its visitors, the lower reaches are impressive but each stage we progressed upward became more strikingly beautiful. We swapped sides of the stream by a the winding of the path and a series of bridges, each one temptingly placed to produce notable photos both up and down stream.
The level of water noise warned us of more to come but nevertheless we were shocked to see the path climbing under the sheer sides of the canyon. The falls were stunning and we were sprayed nearly all the time. On reaching the top past the most impressive falls which landed into deep pools before flowing on, we were again impressed by the thought behind the attraction’s design. Instead of simply retracing our steps, and experiencing that slight anti-climax of deciding if you need to take the same photo again this time coming down, we walked a forest path back to the visitor centre. Here we were above another mountain stream and able to watch kayakers tackling the currents and rapids. It was also amazing to see the substantial trees that appeared to be rooted through and round boulders into the soil below them.
Close to the end of our trek there was the Wolf’s Hole – a shortcut for those small enough or brave enough to crawl through – neither of us qualified but a young boy from California if his sweatshirt was to be trusted disappeared into it and later rushed back down the trail to his mother to claim victory over the cave!
We were back on the road again by noon and the journey passed pleasantly. We arrived in Bennington and checked into the Best Western New Englander Motel, we were placed in a smoking room on the extreme edge of the motel buildings but it turned out the place was fully booked so no transfer to non-smoking was possible.
We checked out our in-room information and we decided on seeing the Bennington Battle Memorial before dark and leaving Bennington’s other claim to fame, the Covered Bridges, until the following day.
We set off on foot but soon realised the distances were further than we had thought and returned for the car. We quickly found the memorial, hard to miss a 300 foot obelisk on top of a hill, and paid the requisite $2 to ride the elevator to the viewing deck. The view from the monument is excellent and there are openings through which it is possible to photograph without reflection or distortion caused by the glass of windows. On our way down the lift operator recognised us as English but pointed out that the troops fighting the Colonists at the battle of Bennington were mainly German mercenaries paid by the British. Knowing very little of the War of Independence I have since tried to research the incidents which we touched on our trip. This appears to be the story of the battle
Aware of the advancing British troops moving east toward Bennington, Stark, the American commander, decided to head them off rather than defend the supply depot at the Bennington site. Therefore, it was approximately five miles northwest of Bennington, near Walloomsac Heights in New York State, that the actual battle took place. Hampered by heavy rains, the British had halted their advance and were encamped on the south slope parallel to the Walloomsac River. General Stark, assessing the British position, sent detachments under Colonel Moses Nichols to circle Baum’s left, under Colonel Samuel Herrick to circle the right, and under Colonels David Hobart and Thomas Stickney to the south. Stark, with his remaining men, made the principal frontal attack. The fighting began at three o’clock on the afternoon of August 16th. The first shot was fired by Nichols’ battalion; and by five o’clock that evening, the British troops were retreating in disorder. Baum received a mortal wound at this stage of the battle and his demoralized troops surrendered. General Stark later described this engagement as “one continuous clap of thunder.” As General Stark was taking the captured and wounded enemy soldiers back to Bennington, Colonel Breymann appeared with a second unit of Burgoyne’s army, surprising Stark and his men. The Americans fought back; but exhausted and hungry, they slowly gave ground. Then suddenly, arriving overland from Manchester, Colonel Seth Warner and his Green Mountain Boys from Vermont came to their aid. With this additional help and reinforcement, the scales were tipped in the Americans’ favor and Breymann’s ranks gave way. By dusk they were fleeing, with the Americans in hot pursuit.
In a perverse parallel, as we were leaving the area we noted that the flags, state and national, which were being lowered had been flying at half-mast, I asked and was told that news had arrived from Afghanistan that an American soldier from Vermont had been killed that day and due to the battle’s links with Vermont, despite it being in New Hampshire, the flag was lowered as a mark of respect.
We returned to the hotel and found there were all the basic American restaurants available, Pizza Hut was in walking distance and it served our purpose well. We were disappointed not to be able to chill out with a beer and it seemed that the restaurant had been in the process of closing for the night since we walked in at 7.30pm. Another early night!
Bennington had its own attractions but we decided to take in the Flume Gorge and Visitor Center at Franconia Notch State Park, in the heart of the popular White Mountain National Forest. Discovered in 1808, the Flume is a natural gorge extending 800 feet at the base of Mount Liberty. The walls of Conway granite rise to a height of 70 to 90 feet and are 12 to 20 feet apart. The recent heavy rain had guaranteed that the water-flow would be spectacular and we were prepared for the walk which includes uphill walking and lots of stairs.
The Flume path consists of a wooden walkway suspended along the side of the cliff which takes visitors alongside the rushing stream, past whirlpools and waterfalls and over two covered bridges before ending in a pleasant forest trail loop.
If you’ve ever ridden a flume ride at the amusement park, you’ll get the basic idea. A “flume” is a geological feature formed when a plug of basalt is worn away from between two walls of harder granite—the result is a torrent of water in a steep gorge.
So after breakfast we set off – its worth mentioning at this point all our arrangements by American Driving Vacations had proved smooth and we had been expected at all our hotels, the payment voucher sometimes created more interest but was then accepted. It occurred to us at the time that we could produce similar vouchers ourselves and free-load our way across the USA – some people could get away with it but I know the tension at every check-in would destroy us.
The Flume was quite close to the hotel so we arrived mid-morning and were happy to take our time and enjoy the attraction fully. From the visitor centre onwards the Flume captivated us – looking back it was then that the whole New England experience took flight.
On a paved pathway towards the sound of running water we realised that the trees were turning through yellows towards red. Julia, the Geologist, marveled at a huge glacial boulder dropped next to the path many centuries ago then we met the water for the first time. It was flowing swiftly under a covered bridge. It truly was New England!
Since retirement we have enjoyed the digital camera but struggled to get the best from our newest camcorder, sites like the flume should change all that. Julia used the camcorder and, for once I, was envious of its potential – we must get into downloading video and assembling it into a watchable film of our exploits.
It’s fair to say that the flume teases its visitors, the lower reaches are impressive but each stage we progressed upward became more strikingly beautiful. We swapped sides of the stream by a the winding of the path and a series of bridges, each one temptingly placed to produce notable photos both up and down stream.
The level of water noise warned us of more to come but nevertheless we were shocked to see the path climbing under the sheer sides of the canyon. The falls were stunning and we were sprayed nearly all the time. On reaching the top past the most impressive falls which landed into deep pools before flowing on, we were again impressed by the thought behind the attraction’s design. Instead of simply retracing our steps, and experiencing that slight anti-climax of deciding if you need to take the same photo again this time coming down, we walked a forest path back to the visitor centre. Here we were above another mountain stream and able to watch kayakers tackling the currents and rapids. It was also amazing to see the substantial trees that appeared to be rooted through and round boulders into the soil below them.
Close to the end of our trek there was the Wolf’s Hole – a shortcut for those small enough or brave enough to crawl through – neither of us qualified but a young boy from California if his sweatshirt was to be trusted disappeared into it and later rushed back down the trail to his mother to claim victory over the cave!
We were back on the road again by noon and the journey passed pleasantly. We arrived in Bennington and checked into the Best Western New Englander Motel, we were placed in a smoking room on the extreme edge of the motel buildings but it turned out the place was fully booked so no transfer to non-smoking was possible.
We checked out our in-room information and we decided on seeing the Bennington Battle Memorial before dark and leaving Bennington’s other claim to fame, the Covered Bridges, until the following day.
We set off on foot but soon realised the distances were further than we had thought and returned for the car. We quickly found the memorial, hard to miss a 300 foot obelisk on top of a hill, and paid the requisite $2 to ride the elevator to the viewing deck. The view from the monument is excellent and there are openings through which it is possible to photograph without reflection or distortion caused by the glass of windows. On our way down the lift operator recognised us as English but pointed out that the troops fighting the Colonists at the battle of Bennington were mainly German mercenaries paid by the British. Knowing very little of the War of Independence I have since tried to research the incidents which we touched on our trip. This appears to be the story of the battle
Aware of the advancing British troops moving east toward Bennington, Stark, the American commander, decided to head them off rather than defend the supply depot at the Bennington site. Therefore, it was approximately five miles northwest of Bennington, near Walloomsac Heights in New York State, that the actual battle took place. Hampered by heavy rains, the British had halted their advance and were encamped on the south slope parallel to the Walloomsac River. General Stark, assessing the British position, sent detachments under Colonel Moses Nichols to circle Baum’s left, under Colonel Samuel Herrick to circle the right, and under Colonels David Hobart and Thomas Stickney to the south. Stark, with his remaining men, made the principal frontal attack. The fighting began at three o’clock on the afternoon of August 16th. The first shot was fired by Nichols’ battalion; and by five o’clock that evening, the British troops were retreating in disorder. Baum received a mortal wound at this stage of the battle and his demoralized troops surrendered. General Stark later described this engagement as “one continuous clap of thunder.” As General Stark was taking the captured and wounded enemy soldiers back to Bennington, Colonel Breymann appeared with a second unit of Burgoyne’s army, surprising Stark and his men. The Americans fought back; but exhausted and hungry, they slowly gave ground. Then suddenly, arriving overland from Manchester, Colonel Seth Warner and his Green Mountain Boys from Vermont came to their aid. With this additional help and reinforcement, the scales were tipped in the Americans’ favor and Breymann’s ranks gave way. By dusk they were fleeing, with the Americans in hot pursuit.
In a perverse parallel, as we were leaving the area we noted that the flags, state and national, which were being lowered had been flying at half-mast, I asked and was told that news had arrived from Afghanistan that an American soldier from Vermont had been killed that day and due to the battle’s links with Vermont, despite it being in New Hampshire, the flag was lowered as a mark of respect.
We returned to the hotel and found there were all the basic American restaurants available, Pizza Hut was in walking distance and it served our purpose well. We were disappointed not to be able to chill out with a beer and it seemed that the restaurant had been in the process of closing for the night since we walked in at 7.30pm. Another early night!
Tuesday, 2 November 2010
New England – Fall 2010 – Day 5: Franconia
Sadly we got up to an unchanged weather situation. We had breakfast and stayed in the hotel hoping for the rain to ease. Fortunately there was a pool and hot-tub in the hotel and we were the only people taking advantage of them as all the coaches had disappeared before we woke.
It was mid-afternoon before the rain eased and we drove back into Littleton to take some photos having enjoyed the visit the previous night.
The amount of rain that had fallen meant that the river running through the town was high and wild. The photos taken from the Veterans’ Memorial Bridge and the covered bridge were impressive – large tree trunks were being carried downstream and had some of them hit the wooden bridge supports we would have felt the impact.
In some ways though I was more impressed by the memorial bridge, each of the rail supports across the width of the river commemorated with a metal plaque a fallen Littleton serviceman who has paid the supreme sacrifice in all wars.
Fifty men have been killed in action through the years. Last year the New Hampshire House of Representatives and New Hampshire Senate enacted a law naming the bridge on Cottage Street at the Town Building "The Veterans Memorial Bridge" honouring all veterans over the years who have served our country. Flag holders have been installed and these flags will be above the individual plaque. A larger plaque has been installed on the wall of the Town Building naming the "Veterans Memorial Bridge". Each of the organizations in town is being asked to participate in the fundraising of this project by soliciting their members for contributions to the fund and also to having a fund drive. In this way it is felt that every Littleton resident will have the opportunity to contribute to honoring these men.
There will also be a plaque honoring these who died in the service of their country by other causes: flu, pneumonia and typhoid, to name but a few.
The amount of respect shown by these little towns is moving and perhaps a lesson to many English towns and villages who have a neglected war memorial somewhere but no day-to-day concern about it.
I was so taken with Littleton I searched for references on the internet and discovered this article ranking it amongst classic “Main Street” towns.
Littleton, NH : What You'll Find:
An historic Inn. A 100-year old Opera House. Quaint shops, pubs, a sculpture of Pollyanna, and the longest candy counter in the world! Littleton's Main Street is one of the last "classic" Main Streets in New England. Parallel to Main Street, you'll find a working grist mill and the rolling rapids of the Ammonoosuc River.
Why You Should Go:
To dip your toes in the cold waters of the Ammonoosuc, pick up some pancake mix made at the Littleton Grist Mill, explore the walking trails of Littleton and drive along one of the official "scenic byways" of New Hampshire. Hold some old coins in your hand at the Littleton Coin Company, pick up some fresh fruit at the Farmer's Market during the summer, and stop in the Village Bookstore while you are there.
When we walked the classic “Main Street” we enjoyed the Diner again and took the photos that I had promised myself, we admired the huge and impressive post office which seems standard for all but the smallest settlements. We scouted some potential restaurants for that evening but were most intrigued by the wooden house with an old petrol pump on its porch alongside four various armchairs. We had assumed that the pump was purely for show but when I downloaded the picture to a full size screen you can see a notice above the mail slot which says, “Pay Here” so perhaps you can park on this drive and fill up your tank and pay by pushing the payment into the house through the letter box! It takes “self service” just one step further! It also implies a level of trust in ones neighbours which we found challenging, petrol pump, wooden house, serve yourself – tempting for the local arsonist and if they burnt down your house using the petrol you supplied you’d never be able to work out if they put payment through the mail slot!
On our way back to the hotel we explored Franconia – not a big task – the 2006 Census estimate for Franconia was only 1,036 residents, which ranked 184th among New Hampshire's incorporated cities and towns, we drove through the town and only saw one restaurant, the Dutch Treat. We checked out the menu and decided to eat there later that evening. We did notice that there was a singer advertised but since the restaurant was so close to the hotel we decided to risk it.
We arrived at the Dutch Treat and had the worst eating experience of the trip. I can only hope the owners were Dutch otherwise that’s two lies in the same title. The service was slow the food barely average and the worst of the experience was the singer in the bar. He sang many of our favourite songs unfortunately because they were our favourites we knew the words better than he did. His ability to carry a tune was worse than you would tolerate in a karaoke evening and the apathy of his audience was fully deserved. The only thing which impressed us in the whole experience was the “Trivial Pursuit” cards on each table – presumably we were supposed to wile away the hours waiting to be served questioning each other.
The evening was so bad it became funny, we watched new innocents arrive, be seated, and wait to win the lottery prize of a visit from the aging staff, with knowing tolerance. One family group played the establishment at their own game, they ordered then lost interest themselves and left without anyone noticing. Their food never arrived thus giving the restaurant the last laugh.
Despite the poor quality and the rural location the food was not cheap and the very drinkable beer was extortionate but we were able to save on the tip.
Since returning home I have googled the Dutch Treat and the reviews I found on Yahoo travel indicate that we were not the unluckiest people to eat there.
It was mid-afternoon before the rain eased and we drove back into Littleton to take some photos having enjoyed the visit the previous night.
The amount of rain that had fallen meant that the river running through the town was high and wild. The photos taken from the Veterans’ Memorial Bridge and the covered bridge were impressive – large tree trunks were being carried downstream and had some of them hit the wooden bridge supports we would have felt the impact.
In some ways though I was more impressed by the memorial bridge, each of the rail supports across the width of the river commemorated with a metal plaque a fallen Littleton serviceman who has paid the supreme sacrifice in all wars.
Fifty men have been killed in action through the years. Last year the New Hampshire House of Representatives and New Hampshire Senate enacted a law naming the bridge on Cottage Street at the Town Building "The Veterans Memorial Bridge" honouring all veterans over the years who have served our country. Flag holders have been installed and these flags will be above the individual plaque. A larger plaque has been installed on the wall of the Town Building naming the "Veterans Memorial Bridge". Each of the organizations in town is being asked to participate in the fundraising of this project by soliciting their members for contributions to the fund and also to having a fund drive. In this way it is felt that every Littleton resident will have the opportunity to contribute to honoring these men.
There will also be a plaque honoring these who died in the service of their country by other causes: flu, pneumonia and typhoid, to name but a few.
The amount of respect shown by these little towns is moving and perhaps a lesson to many English towns and villages who have a neglected war memorial somewhere but no day-to-day concern about it.
I was so taken with Littleton I searched for references on the internet and discovered this article ranking it amongst classic “Main Street” towns.
Littleton, NH : What You'll Find:
An historic Inn. A 100-year old Opera House. Quaint shops, pubs, a sculpture of Pollyanna, and the longest candy counter in the world! Littleton's Main Street is one of the last "classic" Main Streets in New England. Parallel to Main Street, you'll find a working grist mill and the rolling rapids of the Ammonoosuc River.
Why You Should Go:
To dip your toes in the cold waters of the Ammonoosuc, pick up some pancake mix made at the Littleton Grist Mill, explore the walking trails of Littleton and drive along one of the official "scenic byways" of New Hampshire. Hold some old coins in your hand at the Littleton Coin Company, pick up some fresh fruit at the Farmer's Market during the summer, and stop in the Village Bookstore while you are there.
When we walked the classic “Main Street” we enjoyed the Diner again and took the photos that I had promised myself, we admired the huge and impressive post office which seems standard for all but the smallest settlements. We scouted some potential restaurants for that evening but were most intrigued by the wooden house with an old petrol pump on its porch alongside four various armchairs. We had assumed that the pump was purely for show but when I downloaded the picture to a full size screen you can see a notice above the mail slot which says, “Pay Here” so perhaps you can park on this drive and fill up your tank and pay by pushing the payment into the house through the letter box! It takes “self service” just one step further! It also implies a level of trust in ones neighbours which we found challenging, petrol pump, wooden house, serve yourself – tempting for the local arsonist and if they burnt down your house using the petrol you supplied you’d never be able to work out if they put payment through the mail slot!
On our way back to the hotel we explored Franconia – not a big task – the 2006 Census estimate for Franconia was only 1,036 residents, which ranked 184th among New Hampshire's incorporated cities and towns, we drove through the town and only saw one restaurant, the Dutch Treat. We checked out the menu and decided to eat there later that evening. We did notice that there was a singer advertised but since the restaurant was so close to the hotel we decided to risk it.
We arrived at the Dutch Treat and had the worst eating experience of the trip. I can only hope the owners were Dutch otherwise that’s two lies in the same title. The service was slow the food barely average and the worst of the experience was the singer in the bar. He sang many of our favourite songs unfortunately because they were our favourites we knew the words better than he did. His ability to carry a tune was worse than you would tolerate in a karaoke evening and the apathy of his audience was fully deserved. The only thing which impressed us in the whole experience was the “Trivial Pursuit” cards on each table – presumably we were supposed to wile away the hours waiting to be served questioning each other.
The evening was so bad it became funny, we watched new innocents arrive, be seated, and wait to win the lottery prize of a visit from the aging staff, with knowing tolerance. One family group played the establishment at their own game, they ordered then lost interest themselves and left without anyone noticing. Their food never arrived thus giving the restaurant the last laugh.
Despite the poor quality and the rural location the food was not cheap and the very drinkable beer was extortionate but we were able to save on the tip.
Since returning home I have googled the Dutch Treat and the reviews I found on Yahoo travel indicate that we were not the unluckiest people to eat there.
New England – Fall 2010 – Day 4: Bar Harbor to Franconia
Once again we breakfasted on the free buffet and since the pass we had purchased for Acadia was valid for a week we left it with the ageing hippy to be passed on to a new visitor as she deemed fit.
We made a prompt start with a view to stopping off on the way to Franconia in the White Mountains unfortunately the journey was made less pleasant by the return of the rain.
So we arrived at the Best Western White Mountain without having stopped and the rain had limited our appreciation of the scenic journey.
The hotel was in the style of a ski lodge situated above the busy metropolis of Franconia. The foyer was impressive and the room assigned to us was excellent with a microwave and fridge as well as a big TV.
We scanned the information in the room and slowly worked out that, in terms of eating dinner, there was one restaurant in Franconia, the Dutch treat, everything else was either to be ordered in through the reception desk or travel to a neighbouring town. We didn’t enjoy the thought of eating pizza in our room or being watched as we ate it in the foyer so we opted to drive out for dinner in Littleton.
Our views were totally confirmed by the arrival of three coaches during the course of the afternoon and the resultant influx of guests would have made for very little space in the public areas of the hotel.
It was a quick drive into Littleton and in the evening light it seemed an almost “Field of Dreams” moment when Kevin Costner is wandering round the small town of Chisholm and sees that the cinema is showing the premier of “The Godfather” and there are “Re-elect President Nixon” posters and he realizes he has gone back in time to 1972.
I checked out the cinema and it was showing modern movies but the illusion persisted. We parked on Main Street and we were debating what coins the parking meter took – we asked a passer-by who seemed amazed that we didn’t know they took quarters but he helpfully added that we shouldn’t need to feed it at night – a bit like “Gremlins” while we are on the film theme.
While Julia checked one side of the road I walked up the other and there were plenty of restaurants most of which would have been highly suitable but I had hit pay-dirt. On my side of the road was the Littleton Diner, it was so exactly like the one that featured in “The West Wing” when the group were election campaigning in New England. We got in quickly and they were happy to serve us despite it being well after seven and their closing at eight.
The food was cheap and filling but it was the general feel of the place which made it really memorable.
Although the diner had its roots in the past as this explains: Built in Merrimack, Ma in 1928 and transported to Littleton - where it opened in 1930. In 1940 a new Sterling Diner was constructed on the original site, where the Littleton Diner has been an integral part of the community since. They have brought a 21st century approach to marketing and had on sale all manner of merchandise including the staff T-shirt emblazoned with the motto:
Eat in Diners
Ride Trains
Shop on Main Street
Put a porch on your House
And Live in a walkable community
I resisted the temptation to buy the shirt but having got home to England I looked up their website and I can still order one.
On our return to the hotel we travelled the main road again but this time the rain had returned with a vengeance and to add to our concern the “Watch out for Moose” signs were now illuminated and we had no illusions about our small car brushing a moose aside if one crossed our path – nobody has ever concentrated harder than I did ready to make my trusty driver aware should a moose decide to involve itself in our lives.
We were booked in for two nights here so we retired to bed hoping for some clear weather the following day so that we could take advantage of the mountains all round us.
We made a prompt start with a view to stopping off on the way to Franconia in the White Mountains unfortunately the journey was made less pleasant by the return of the rain.
So we arrived at the Best Western White Mountain without having stopped and the rain had limited our appreciation of the scenic journey.
The hotel was in the style of a ski lodge situated above the busy metropolis of Franconia. The foyer was impressive and the room assigned to us was excellent with a microwave and fridge as well as a big TV.
We scanned the information in the room and slowly worked out that, in terms of eating dinner, there was one restaurant in Franconia, the Dutch treat, everything else was either to be ordered in through the reception desk or travel to a neighbouring town. We didn’t enjoy the thought of eating pizza in our room or being watched as we ate it in the foyer so we opted to drive out for dinner in Littleton.
Our views were totally confirmed by the arrival of three coaches during the course of the afternoon and the resultant influx of guests would have made for very little space in the public areas of the hotel.
It was a quick drive into Littleton and in the evening light it seemed an almost “Field of Dreams” moment when Kevin Costner is wandering round the small town of Chisholm and sees that the cinema is showing the premier of “The Godfather” and there are “Re-elect President Nixon” posters and he realizes he has gone back in time to 1972.
I checked out the cinema and it was showing modern movies but the illusion persisted. We parked on Main Street and we were debating what coins the parking meter took – we asked a passer-by who seemed amazed that we didn’t know they took quarters but he helpfully added that we shouldn’t need to feed it at night – a bit like “Gremlins” while we are on the film theme.
While Julia checked one side of the road I walked up the other and there were plenty of restaurants most of which would have been highly suitable but I had hit pay-dirt. On my side of the road was the Littleton Diner, it was so exactly like the one that featured in “The West Wing” when the group were election campaigning in New England. We got in quickly and they were happy to serve us despite it being well after seven and their closing at eight.
The food was cheap and filling but it was the general feel of the place which made it really memorable.
Although the diner had its roots in the past as this explains: Built in Merrimack, Ma in 1928 and transported to Littleton - where it opened in 1930. In 1940 a new Sterling Diner was constructed on the original site, where the Littleton Diner has been an integral part of the community since. They have brought a 21st century approach to marketing and had on sale all manner of merchandise including the staff T-shirt emblazoned with the motto:
Eat in Diners
Ride Trains
Shop on Main Street
Put a porch on your House
And Live in a walkable community
I resisted the temptation to buy the shirt but having got home to England I looked up their website and I can still order one.
On our return to the hotel we travelled the main road again but this time the rain had returned with a vengeance and to add to our concern the “Watch out for Moose” signs were now illuminated and we had no illusions about our small car brushing a moose aside if one crossed our path – nobody has ever concentrated harder than I did ready to make my trusty driver aware should a moose decide to involve itself in our lives.
We were booked in for two nights here so we retired to bed hoping for some clear weather the following day so that we could take advantage of the mountains all round us.
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