Sunday 4 June 1995 Greenfield
MA
We drove down Vermont for most of the
day through some very fine country, having started quite late from The Lodge
because I had been awake for a couple of hours during the night. A combination
of a rich meal and 3 a.m. phobias and fears. It was raining steadily during the
night and one of my big concerns was about an avalanche as we drove through the
mountains. That’s a pretty good example of how unreal concerns can be at that
time of the morning. So I woke up late and we got going late although it was a
perfect day. The rain had gone, the sky was blue, the sun shone down and there
was a slight breeze to cool things down. Not really avalanche weather.
Breakfast in
Jackson Village was very good – pancakes bacon
and eggs. Then Rab wandered off to the shop opposite the eatery for a quick
look at the stock. We got chatting to the two blokes who ran the shop and that
delayed us further. But no worries – we set off through the White Mountain
Nature Reserve which was spectacular: steep cliffs and crags (called notches
here) and forest everywhere.
As we headed
south towards Vermont
we spent about an hour seeking more
covered bridges. There were meant to be five on the route we had specifically
chosen and Rab was hell bent on seeing them. They proved to be remarkably
elusive and we could not find the first two anywhere. Finally tracking
down the last three provided some sense of satisfaction. We had to laugh though
as the day progressed because it turned out that covered bridges are fairly
common in Vermont
and we passed several right alongside the road.
One of the sights
en route was the magnificent hotel at Bretton Woods where the monetary
agreement was drawn up in 1944 to stabilise the price of gold and peg it at $35
an ounce! What a place it looks. High and imposing and nestling in the
mountains.
Lunch was in
a regular old diner right across the border in Vermont. How cool man – juke box on the
counter and we played a few old favourites including “Stand By Me” for Matt who
we felt would have liked that. We were aiming to stop off for the night in Brattleboro because it
looked like a biggish place on the map. But when we got there we found it was a
pretty run down town with an enormous drug and rehabilitation unit on the
outskirts. Many of the people we saw on the streets seemed to be outpatients.
So we headed on and down south and out of town, passing some real slum areas
with people living in squalor in run down cabins or mobile homes. It seems that
the area that we were passing through does not attract many tourists because
there were no hotels or motels to choose from. There were a few inns but we had
decided to give them the flick.
It was about
18.00 when we got to Greenfield
and stopped at a chicken diner to ask the counter hand where we could find a
motel. She told us where we could find a couple. One of them was The Candlelit
Inn. We didn’t like the look of it and when we found that it was $46 for the
night and that we couldn’t see a room before paying we decided that Howard
Johnson down the road while pretty ordinary, might be a better bet. As I said
to Rab, The Candlelit Inn probably usually rented rooms by the hour. As we were
a bit tired after the longer than usual drive – about 280 miles – we ate at a
local family restaurant which provided a meal for us at a very reasonable price
– about $15 for the two of us for chicken pie/bacon and liver. It wasn’t great
cuisine but it was very tasty.
And so to
bed in a room that was comfortable but somewhat musty – it smelt as if it had
been flooded out at some time and not dried out completely.
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