The morning started as usual, with me rising with an alarm for 6:30 and showering to be fresh for a travel day. I skipped church as I needed to pack and write the blog. It took three tries to get everything to fit in my two bags. I have collected only minor things to travel with for easy packing. Some gifts and books were mailed from Curious Books and John King’s Books, and Deborah got the fragile items (they arrived intact today, Monday) here (thanks, Deborah). I had to put a pair of pants in my carry-on and slide another in the suitcase’s side pocket. I sat on it to close the luggage, but it was expensive and meant for abuse.
Habits are easy when traveling as you are exposed to so much new, and you want to connect with something stable to give you a break. The new experiences can feel overwhelming. Thus, I had days of salmon bagels at Bagel Cafe, but travel is not about stability but, as I understand it, about discovery. I am done packing, checked out without surprises (other than there is no coffee this morning in the lobby!?), and have time. I plan to meet Clint and Annika at noon at their home. I searched the internet on Maps and found The Yolk Grill in Nashua, which is open and looks like a good choice.
I load up my two bags in Air Ford, NH, and leave the hotel one more time. I headed in the opposite direction than usual and used various highways via Maps to reach downtown Nashua. A plastic drink cup is the perfect holder for my phone for directions while I drive. I soon find parking after traveling a few blocks off Main Street to reach the place. There are plenty of cars here, a good sign.
I sat at the bar, and Jess was my bartender and waiter. I resisted all the alcoholic goodies offered. I order the Yolk’s Breakfast. Jess says that is one of everything, but actually three or so. It is way too much food. I take food porn pictures and, with Jess’s direction, share them on New Hampshire Eats on Facebook for a 10% discount. Excellent. I have just coffee and too much food. I pack the brisket for later, manage the bacon, most of the eggs, and most of the sausage, and leave the baked beans (fantastic for breakfast, I discovered) and potatoes unfinished. I am not alone. The food is perfect and impossible to complete.
Jess keeps filling my cup, and I write the blog. I finish the blog when Jess says, “Some more coffee so you can rush off,” as she notices I am watching the time while writing. Soon, the blog was published, and I took Jess’s picture and added it to the New Hampshire Eats post. Later, I get called out and update my post to make it more useful (not knowing there is a second Grill)—all good.
It is a thirty-minute drive to the house. I get there with a few minutes to spare, and only Ryder is up. Soon, Clint and Annika appear, and about thirty minutes later, we are on the way to Boston. Just three of us, Misha and Hope, demurred when asking if they wanted to see the USS Constitution on a cold January day in Boston Harbor.
The drive is primarily uneventful; Boston’s drivers are known to be unskilled and aggressive–not a good combination. We find parking in an underground garage just two blocks from the entrance. We had to provide IDs (Clint had to run back to the car to get him) and waited twenty minutes to be led on a ship tour. Our tour guides were all active navy, and most just out of BootCamp, Clint learns. USS Constitution is over two hundred years old and is an active ship with a crew. The crew is not wearing period uniforms as it is cold, and the officer in charge decided not to use them.
The USS Constitution is primarily a reconstruction now, with only 20% of the original ship existing (the naval tour guide said that most of that is in the keel). Most of the ironwork and fixtures are newer, with the stove not being original, at least from the correct period, I was told. Sadly, the Captain’s Cabin was not open, but it appears to be restored. We only got two decks down. I would like to have traveled one more down, but that was not part of the tour. The ladders are steep and crazy, so maybe it was OK to skip the lower decks. It is always interesting to see what compromises are made for historical ships. This is primarily intact inside, with most masts and sails taken down. The cannons were, I learned, a gift from Queen Elizabeth II, and it was strange to see her monogram on them, and some joker cast an arrow on the cannon to show which way to point them (?!). But it was worth a visit, and I took some pictures. We skipped the museum and the WW2 Destroyer, still in her Cold War configuration, as it was not open in the winter.
I should mention that it was cold and windy, but the insides were heated. The ship also was not bouncing around but quite still. This made the ladders approachable!
Next, we discovered a beer and pizza joint only a few minutes away: The Brewer’s Fork, next to a synagog now converted to a Dollar General! There, Clint and I enjoyed a brew. Clint ordered a pizza, while Annika and I ordered three meatballs with bread. It was excellent. Clint did have to move the car, as parking was on the street.
Stuffed, we headed to Logan Airport, and the signage left must be desired, with many cars flying across two or three lanes when the driver finally understood the signage. Clint had to change lanes twice as we learned that Terminal A (Delta) was not the same lane as the rental car return. Oh my! It’s not a place I would recommend to get a rental.
I said a quick goodbye and soon started dropping off my bag. I had to wait for a machine and then a long line to drop the bag. I am amazed by how few machines are provided at most airports. Delta had a large count, but each machine had a line two deep. I completed the ritual and had ninety minutes until boarded. I did help a few folks, as this process can be stressful. I remembered my phone (you can easily forget it and leave it on the machine–I know) and soon found the security (I am not cleared and have to join everyone) with all my goods intact.
I did not pull out my laptop (the last four flights had me leave it in my bag) and had to have my carry-on rescanned with the computer in another tray. I saw a lost laptop in a tray (it was not just me who was surprised). Shoes, coat, belt, but not my hat, come off. My person passed. I reassembled my person while my bag and laptop enjoyed a second proper scan ritual.
I find the gate, the last one, with an hour to go to boarding. I have noticed that I constantly travel through the furthest gate each time, suggesting that I have angered the airport gods or that some spirit enjoys seeing my reaction each time I somehow find my gate was the last again. “You are Damned to forever walk to the end of the terminal as punishment for always buying the cheap seats,” I could hear in a disapproving version of Derek Jacobi’s voice. While there is a bar next to the gate, I just read the news and surf on my phone.
I soon boarded the plane and found my seat. Placed my gym bag in the overhead bin (ignoring all the warnings that I should put it under my seat to be helpful). My coat went under my seat. I spent six hours watching movies and some TV shows. I did the last of Argo, a fantastic movie I started on another flight; I watched the newest Count of Monte Cristo (in French with English subtitles). I finished with the Transformers One movie, which was not bad for an animated film. The plane landed without issues at Seattle, but the folks were moving with no speed, and it took thirty minutes to get off the plane (my seat 36A); I then rushed and walked up and down escalators, took a train, and was not surprised that my gate in A was the last one. But they were holding the plane for late transfers, like me, and soon, I was on a nearly empty plane. Despite rushing, I waited thirty minutes for the plane to leave and soon arrived after a twenty-five-minute flight at PDX. Yay!
Yes, my baggage claim was the last one. I rolled my bags to the taxi lane, the last thing at the bottom of the parking garage. I waited ten minutes for a taxi as the line was long. I got a cab, and the driver was thrilled to get a $100 fair to Beaverton. He had only three fairs all day (including mine). I gave him a good tip, and I was soon home. He would have preferred cash (something to remember to leave $120 in cash in my wallet next time).
I did the minimum to get to bed, showered, and was happy to see everything as I left it about three weeks ago. The orchids and pitcher plants were looking well. However, the house elves could have cleaned the counters and swept the floors. In bed, in my PJs that I had put away for my return, and as with every night for a week, I struggled to stop coughing. Meds helped. I was soon asleep and happy to be home. It felt good to be back.
Thanks for reading!
Thanks to family, friends, and travel professionals that made this trip memorable. Thank you!
Alohawild (Michael Wild's) Website 