Playing catch-up once again

[slipjig3]

The earth trembled, the rivers boiled, live toads rained from the sky—in short, I got a Saturday off without even having to ask for it. And since I "owed rafaela one," in compensation for infractions that are now forgotten, it seemed to be the perfect time for that rite of passage known as "Our First Road Trip Together," a.k.a. "Either a Pleasant Jaunt or Festering Pustule Ridden Hell But You Won't Know Which Until You've Been On the Road For an Hour." (I'm happy to report that it was a very pleasant jaunt indeed, but I'm getting ahead of myself.)

First step was deciding on a destination. Initial thought was Lake Placid, which is not only one of the places we've discussed going, but was also at the time host to the Lake Placid Film Festival, attended this year by none other than Martin Scorsese. Unfortunately this blessing was also what inevitably kept us away, since neither of us was much up for crowd-stumbling and elbow-jostling. Option #2 was Montréal, which was actually our working plan up until very nearly the last minute. But since we had little moeny and less idea of where in town to go, we voted to postpone that until we could prepare a tad more effectively. Finally, rafaela suggested the Berkshires and the surrounding area, which had the advantages of being (a) relatively close, (b) interesting, and (c) as I like to put it, "real purty-like."

So off we went. Here's my basic impressions of the Western Massachusetts Experience:

1) Great Barrington? Love it. Lenox? Really love it. Stockbridge? Dull as dirt, "Alice's Restaurant" aside.

2) It's always best to have a Quest when making pointless trips. In this case, our Quest was to get rafaela a new Tarot deck at a new age shoppe whose name she couldn't remember, in some town or another, that she visited 11 or so years ago. We found it. We rock.

3) We also found a music shop that keeps hammered dulcimers and octave mandolins on the shelves. I had to be dragged bodily down the stairs and out the door, before I had to reimburse them for drool-inflicted product damage.

4) You can't make fun of tourists when you are a tourist. Phooey.

5) For some reason, we had never listened to the Beatles together prior to the trip down. I'd never realized what a bonding experience swapping anecdotes about "Strawberry Fields Forever" can be. (We're agreed that Lennon was a right bastard, he was.)

6) I have a sneaking affection for the oases on the Massachusetts Turnpike. No, I don't know why.

7) Oooo! Hills! Trees! War memorials every 75 yards! Quaintness out the yin-yang!

8) On the way back north, we stopped in Saratoga for coffee and more wandering. Believe you me, there is no better people-watching than that in front of the Uncommon Grounds coffeehouse on a sunny Saturday afternoon. We fled to keep our hormones from staging a coup.

As I said, it was a grand time for all involved. Sometimes exhaustion is well worth it, isn't it?

Comments

[spoothbrush.livejournal.com]

Mmm, Uncommon Grounds.

I announced my engagement to my parents from a rest area on the MassPike. They were... surprised.

[slipjig.livejournal.com]

Heehee! As well they might be.

All right, that does it: you need to come out here so we can Saratoga-bop for a while.

[irisira03.livejournal.com]

On the way back north, we stopped in Saratoga for coffee and more wandering. Believe you me, there is no better people-watching than that in front of the Uncommon Grounds coffeehouse on a sunny Saturday afternoon. We fled to keep our hormones from staging a coup.

Oh, but there is - during track season!

[slipjig.livejournal.com]

I stand thoroughly corrected. *grin*