Climax in Boston!

On the last Friday in April, we drove into Boston for the final leg of our grand tour. The weather was atrocious, with torential rain. Visibility on the freeways was limited by the spray, but we were able to see the turn off for the New Hampshire state licquor store!

New Hampshire is a curious place. Its numberplates declare that you should “live free or die”! It presumably has a curious law about the purchase of alchol, with outlets through state run stores, one of which they have sited on the freeway. Motivated by the desire to take a break from driving in the rain, we visited. Extraordinary! Warehouse scale with pretty well anything you might wish to find.

We arrived at the home of Bob and Ann Buxbaum at about lunchtime.
We were made very welcome by Bob. After collecting ourselves we went for a tour, starting with a mega outdoor shop to check out their wares. We then visited three great places: Russo’s, which is the most fantastic wholesale market for fruit and veg, which Bob explained serves the Boston restaurants and therefore has produce that you would not normally see in a suburban area; Wholefoods, a simply excellent food shop with much organic and fairtrade produce; and Marty’s, a (another) mega grog shop.

Later we picked up Anne from her office and then went to see an interesting Dutch film, The Black Book. It was an action packed depiction of the exploits of and treachery in a Dutch resistance group during the Second World War. This was followed by a late supper and chin wag with Ann and Bob, catching-up.

Saturday saw us travel to the World’s End. A beautiful “reservation” on the coast to the south of Boston. Fantastic views. Yet another great place to sail!



Ann and Bob subsequently took us out to a great French restaurant, Le Petit Robert. A play on words as the patron is a Frenchman called Robert.

On Sunday, we had a proper brunch in a diner. Whilst some had a “stack” (of pancakes or griddlecakes) or a full breakfast, I had eggs and corned beef hash. Duly satisfied, we headed to Boston’s waterfront where after a wander we went to the recently relocated Institute of Contemporary Art. Interesting, but…

Truly memorable was our Sunday night entertainment. We went to a private recital by Yehudi Wyner, who was last year’s winner of the Pulitzer Prize for composition, and a tenor whose name escapes me. A real privilege and most impressive.

Monday morning saw us trying to pack everything to avoid weight problems with our cargo hold bags. Having said farewell to Ann and Bob over coffee at Peets, we headed north of Boston to Salem. We wandered around the old town, carefully avoiding the witch paraphernalia. There are some fascinating old houses, but our next destination impressed us much more, Marblehead.

The skies cleared and the sun shone as we drove into Marblehead. What a beautiful town! We picnicked on a park bench at the old fort at the end of the promontory, subsequently wandering around the town. It is easy to understand why Carl, Ann and Bob’s son, chose to live there.



From Marblehead we headed to Logan airport where we dropped our Chevvie Malibu 3.5l V6 and checked in for the 6 pm “red-eye” flight back to Heathrow…..

Road Trip - via Lebanon

Lebanon, Vermont, that is!

The search engines we checked told us to drive to the Acadia national park, on the northern Maine coast, on interstate freeways, via Boston. We took the slow route, or routes as we on US routes 1, 2, 3 and 4…

We headed north from Saratoga Springs on interstate 87, which leads to Montreal. On reaching Fort Ann we joined route 4, which winds eastward across Vermont. A brief stop at Woodstock (Vermont, not of NY rock concert fame) persuaded Sophia that it would be the perfect place for retirement! By this time we had been past the ski fields of Pico and Killington, which were still thick with snow, following rivers in spate from the thaw. Woodstock has its own ski resort with the charming name of “Suicide Six”!

Soon after Woodstock we hit Lebanon, where we turned north on interstate 5, which leads to Quebec. At St Johnsbury we again turned right, this time on route 2, which we followed all the way to route 3, which enters Acadia. The place names are amusing … on route 2 we also visited Hanover and Mexico, to mention but two…

We spent the whole of Tuesday 24 April on the road. It would probably have been quicker following the google maps approved route, but far less interesting. Crossing the mountains and redneck territory was fascinating. Most of the towns were of interest, always notable for their churches painted in brilliant white and their old weatherboard and shingle properties.

Acadia is magical. Much of it is too accessible by car, which apparently means that it is heaving in the summer months. When we arrived, in the wake of a spring storm, it was almost deserted. Fantastic!

As we arrived relatively late, we found a hotel in Bar Harbour and headed to a recommended restaurant. Both very ordinary, but the meal was enlivened by the company of the crews of two French air force mirage jets. They had been flying with the USAF in Alaska on exercises and their return had been delayed by a day. So they jumped into a car at the airbase, near Bangor, and headed for Acadia. Of the food they said that after a month in Alaska it was bliss, adding that it was not of course up to French standards!

On Wednesday we toured Acadia pretty extensively, climbing Mount Cadillac.



We climbed it, as you would expect, by foot. It is the highest mountain on the eastern seaboard of the US, which is remarkable as it is only 500 meters or so high.



The mountain is however aptly named as you can drive to the summit!

That night we stayed at South West Harbour, a much more rewarding experience. The old three floor weatherboard Drydock Inn was very welcoming and a pleasant change from the previous evening and our meal at “Sips” was both good and interesting as it was a live music evening; we were entertained by a “master fiddler”, which was curious as he strummed lots, plucked a fair bit, puffed a little and also sang. The fiddle did not get much of an outing.

On Thursday, we headed south on route 1. The road hugs the coast and visits yet more charming Maine towns. We stopped at Camden for coffee and to look at the windjammers that were being readied for the season. Booking a few days on one of those boats and sailing along the Maine coast is on the pending list…

We spent the evening at Portland. We stayed in the Portland Regency Hotel, which is memorable only because it was built in the former armory – just another modern hotel…

Wandering around the old town of Portland is rewarding. It has been regenerated with shops, bars, galleries, restaurants etc. One of the bars brews its own beer, which we regarded as our duty to try. Not bad!

We headed out of the old town, on a recommendation from a wine bar…to 555 Congress, undoubtedly one of the best restaurants that we have been to on this trip (and there have been a few…).

Friday dawned grey and rainy. We headed for Boston…

Saratoga Rocks!

We arrived in Saratoga Springs during the afternoon of Saturday 21 April. We had not seen Carla and Steve Richards for 15 years – which came as a shock when I was told. We had not previously met their daughters, Hadley and Olivia.

After some welcoming bubbly and catching-up, we were whisked into downtown Saratoga Springs. What a great place; a small city with an attractive and active downtown area. First we had martinis at a specialist martini and whisky (!) bar. Then we headed for 1 Caroline Street for a fantastic meal accompanied by a pianist and singer. The restaurant is very much a family affair with 3 daughters working there, one of whom is a pianist singer/songwriter, who played for us late in the evening. Steve bought the CD for us, which we have enjoyed listening to on our road trip.



On Sunday, we headed from the Richards' impressive and rambling house for an expedition in the hills. A day expertly conceived and executed by Steve!

Saratoga Springs is on the edge of the Adirondack Mountains. We donned our kit, taking sandwiches and dogs (two springer spaniels, which made us feel at home). We aimed to climb Hadley Mountain, which seemed appropriate, but proved to be too ambitious due to a combination of illness and jetlag, the Richards having only returned from Hawaii a couple of days earlier, where they had their spring break.

Afterwards we headed for Lake George for a picnic lunch. We have become used to seeing spectacular vistas and huge lakes. Lake George was another.

One of my lasting memories of the area is the proliferation of Harley Davidson motor bikes. We arrived a week after serious storms with heavy snowfall to balmy summery weather. It seemed that every second person (man) had his “hog” out, banishing cabin fever, and was grunting it around the roads of Saratoga Springs. During our drive from Hadley Mountain to Lake George, they were all around us, literally.

I learned a few pointers to Harley Davidson etiquette, NY state style: you need to personalize your hog; your foot rests need to be as high as your hips; you wear black leathers and a black beanie helmet; you personalize your leathers also, possibly by having chaps with fronds of leather flowing in the wind or a suitably adorned cut off denim jacket over them; and if you are lucky, you have your “hog chick” behind you, similarly personalized.

I was not surprised to learn from Steve that there is an annual “hog fest” at Lake George where Harley riders from all over the world descend. Some hogs are apparently too precious to be ridden there are taken on trailers! It must be quite a sight.

Monday saw Sophia and me exploring the environs of Saratoga Springs and lunching with Carla. A really pretty area and great place to live. And what a day – the temperature climbed to 89 degrees! Even more extraordinary when you consider that New England had been under deep snow only a week before due to a storm that had delayed the return of the Richards from their spring break.



We had another impressive dinner with the Richards, at the Grey Gelding, and then had an evening stroll through the Saratoga Springs park.

On Tuesday morning we said goodbye to the Richards, pledging not to leave it so long before another visit, and headed off on our road trip…

Lakeside, Midwest

We arrived into the chaos of O’Hare airport in Chicago on Sunday 15 April. Mark Harris pulled up to collect us in Emma’s monster SUV, a GMC Denali Yukon nicknamed “the truck”. We sped along concrete freeways, pitted after the winter’s freeze that has not long thawed, before arriving at the leafy haven of Lake Forest which is about 30 miles up Lake Michigan from downtown Chicago.

Sophia has visited the Harris family on an annual basis when I take the girls for a week’s skiing, usually in the first week of April. I on the other hand have not visited since before the birth of Toby, my six year old godson. So a long overdue visit!



Needless to say that Flora and George, the other Harris siblings, have grown considerably since I last saw them.

Lake Forest is a great place to live. The Harris’ house, as well as being attractive and well located, is very comfortable and practical, built in the 1960s, in what the “realtors” describe as colonial style. The location is a natural forest of white oaks. Save for the necessary clearance for development, the trees remain and provide a distinctive character to the neighbourhood, belying the relatively recent age of the housing.

The centre of Lake Forest is one of the most civilized shopping centres I have seen. It is apparently the very first shopping “mall”, but unlike the more recent incarnations of this retail phenomenon it is not enclosed. Parades of shops surround an oblong “square” with further shops on adjoining streets. Very up market, civilized and containing everything that you might need, but with a price to match.

During our stay, with the dollar dropping so that there are 2 to the pound, we have had “retail therapy”. A quite different experience from England as typically you drive to an out of town shopping centre and then drive from shop to shop. Even in Lake Forest, where shopping is a relatively pedestrian affair, there is a drive in bank, library books can be returned “driving in” and there is a drive in Starbucks. Despite this culture, you see quite a few people on bicycles.

We have also been “downtown” twice. On the first occasion Emma drove Sophia and me to the Chicago Yacht Club at Monroe Harbour, for lunch. A really enjoyable meal in unhurried surroundings. The chowder was exceptional.

What a view! What a place to sail! The Chicago to Mackinac race, an annual affair, is from Chicago to the other end of Lake Mitchigan, over 300 miles away. If you win the race you are a “goat”, becoming an “old goat” if you win a number (not sure how many…).

After lunch we headed for the Chicago Art Institute where we viewed the impressionist and post-impressionist galleries and the exhibition of artists associated with Vuillard, a Parisian dealer at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries. There were separate displays of the various artists whom he had patronised or in whose art he dealt. They included Cezanne, Gaugin, Picasso, Renoir and a host of others. We spent an afternoon and saw only these relatively small parts of the Institute's permanent displays. Exceptional!

Our second trip was, at Mark’s suggestion, to take the architectural tour on the Chicago River run by Wendella.



A great way to learn about how Chicago developed and why it looks as it does.



The rest of the day involved a wander about Chicago, checking out some of the blues joints and having lunch (at Mark’s suggestion) at the RL Restaurant, which is an extraordinary place. Like the Ralph Lauren shop, which it adjoins, it is wood paneled and old world in a modern way that you would not often see in Europe. Great meal; great fun; great people watching.

After each trip, Mark drove us home in his convertible Saab Aero; more top down wind in the hair moments, with the temperature rising during our stay.

We leave Chicago tomorrow and are about to head out to Francesco’s in Lake Forest with Mark and Emma for our send-off dinner as we fly to NY State tomorrow. Today has involved more retail therapy, in my case in Marks Saab Aero convertible, top down. Then we had a picnic lunch at the Lake Forest beach, a most indulgent affair. The weather has changed for the better during our stay and it was brilliantly sunny with temperatures that saw some (hardy) people sun bathing.



We followed this sunny picnic with a farewell meal at Fracesca's Intimo, yet another great institution of Lake Forest. Good fun...

A really enjoyable stay! It was good to see all the Harris family, but especially to get to know Toby as I had not properly met him previously.

All good things…

West Coast Cool

The morning after a great send-off supper with Deborah and her family, on 11 April Deborah dropped us at Tullamarine airport for our trip to San Francisco. After the short hop to Sydney and yet again enjoying the intimate body search that the US homeland security give you before boarding a flight to the US, we had the pleasure of a 12.5 hour flight.

After arriving at San Francisco we picked up our Buick Rendezvous SUV and then drove for about 5 hours to Wowona in the Yesomite National Park. A struggle to stay awake, but what a place.



We stayed in the Wowona Hotel, which comprises a group of clapperboard buildings with shingle roofs. It dates back to about 1880 and is the oldest of the three hotels in the national park. They have added few modern facilities, so the experience is quite unusual compared to modern hotels, for example the only telephones for public use are a few payphones behind the hotel.

Wowana is located in a valley which is 4,000 ft above sea level. We woke up to discover that it was below freezing point and there was fresh snow on the ground; quite a contrast to our 30+ degrees in Victoria a few days earlier!

After a hearty breakfast of corned beef hash, eggs, “Wowona potatoes” etc, we headed for the Mariposa Grove. This area and the Yosemite valley were the first two sights in the US to be protected, effectively given to the people of America. What a gift!

The Mariposa Grove is home to the giant redwood Sequoia trees, the scale of which is breathtaking. Apparently the Sequoias are the largest living organisms on this planet. I shall let the photos fill out this description.





After a thorough exploration of the grove and a chilly picnic, we returned to Wowona and explored the local area before drinks to the accompaniment of piano and singing from the resident crooner, Tom, who arrived in 1984 and never left! The hotel restaurant is packed every evening as there is no alterative source of food for about 30 miles.

After another sub-zero night we headed for Yosemite valley. Just stunning. It suffers from the fact that its major sights are within a few hundred meters of roads.



Even at this time of the year the place was full of people, but the scenery is spectacular. Again photos will better describe the sheer 1500 m face of El Capitan, which was first scaled only about 50 years ago and is said to be the longest sheer rockface in the world...



...to say nothing of the Yosemite falls...



...and the Half Dome…



We also visited the Ahwahnee Hotel and saw the room where Jack Nicholson sat, in the Shining, repetitively typing “too much work makes Johnny a dull boy”. We had chosen the Wowona Hotel because we thought from the photos on the national park website that the Ahwahnee looked “over the top” and gaudy, but having visited it we have revised our view and will stay there if we visit again.

After exploring the Yosemite valley, we headed for San Francisco. We stayed at a hotel just up from Union Square, the Chancellor. A good location but like many of the hotels in the area, the recent facelift could not disguise the fact that it had been built long ago.

Our first challenge was to get into San Francisco over the Oakland Bridge at Friday rush hour. Then we had to locate the hotel, sort the luggage and then locate the car hire drop-off location. With the usual wrong turns, failure to spot road signs etc, we managed to make it without too much incident.

Susan (who I had met with James in Hobart) and her husband Michael picked us up shortly after we arrived. They are both in the wine business and took us to a great restaurant, Bacar. Michael selected excellent French wine and we had a convivial evening, assisted by the wine, food and a shared interest with Michael of bikes. It was great to arrive to such a welcome and without the hassle of having to find somewhere to eat on a Friday evening.

Saturday saw us visiting many of the places recommended by Susan and Michael. It rained for most of the morning and we became pretty miserable wandering about in the wet, but we gained some protection from our first of many cable car rides that day; very entertaining. You can see why the city has retained this relatively inefficient means of transportation.



Having walked to Mammas for breakfast and been put off by the 20 m queue we wandered down to the water. The various chain eateries at Fisherman’s wharf did not attract, but we stumbled upon Pat’s Café in North Beach, on Taylor, which proved to be a welcome shelter and provided a great breakfast.

Our subsequent wandering took us to the Ferry Building and the Saturday market there, by ferry to Saucaleto and to Washington Square for a late lunch at Mario’s Bohemian Cigar Store, which as Michael observed has nothing to do with cigars!

After another entertaining cable car ride back from Hyde, we returned to the hotel before dining at Farallon, another recommendation from Susan and Michael. What a fantastic place. Not only was it just around the corner from our hotel, the food was superb.

The following morning, Sunday 15 April, saw us wandering down Powell to the Bart (Bay area travels together!) station and catching the train to the airport, Chicago bound….

Flaming Victoria

It is meant to be autumn, but we have enjoyed summery weather during our stay in Victoria.

We leave Melbourne tomorrow, San Francisco bound. Time has flown – it seems like we arrived yesterday but it has been over a week.





Melanie flew in from Hobart for two days. She and all of the Howes joined us for our wedding anniversary, which we celebrated at a great “Europeanised” Japanese restaurant, which hardly needed any decorations as it had so many awards on the walls!



Maundy Thursday saw Sophia and I dropping Melanie at Tullamarine airport for her flight home. We then picked-up Deborah and drove to their house at Blairgowrie, on the Mornington peninsula. Very attractive and peaceful. Harvey did not join us until Good Friday as he was golfing on Thursday afternoon. We had a rendezvous at the Sorrento Hotel, to which Deborah, Sophia and I walked, mainly along the shoreline. We had already “earned” two Coopers promotional T-shirts before Michelle and Amy, their daughters, joined us.



We had a lazy afternoon, a walk around the ocean beaches of Blairgowrie and then (of course) a barbeque.



Saturday saw us driving to the Morrises’ palatial home at Cape Schank to pick-up the boat that the Howes share with the Morrises. We saw the house just after they had bought in 2000. Over the last 7 years they have made it a fantastic home.

We took the boat to Martha’s Cove, Safety Beach (formerly Shark Bay!), where there is a public boat ramp. Martha’s Cove is an extraordinary place. A network of canals has been formed going more than a kilometre inland, and a massive marina development has commenced being built. The main coast road now goes under the viaduct that the boats use to access Port Philip Bay.



The boat whisked us at high speed down to the heads of Port Philip Bay. As it was windy and choppy we headed back to the relative shelter of Portsea, where we dropped anchor and had lunch. The eski was well provisioned!

On Easter Sunday, in Deborah’s Saab Aero, Sophia and I drove to Sorrento and then caught the ferry to Queenscliffe. As we left Sorrento we were treated to the spectacle of dolphins riding the bow wave. From Queenscliffe we drove to the Great Ocean Road and on it to Anglesea. Another trip down memory lane as we used to own a beach house there. Bruce and Karen Andrew welcomed us to their house on Minfie Street – a fantastic location on a no through road just back from the main road and a short walk to the river and beach.

There was much catching-up with Bruce and Karen. In the gap of 7 years since we last visited, their two elder children, Sophie and Nick, have become adults and Ben is 15…



The weather for all of the Easter break was stunning, getting better as the weekend progressed. It was sufficiently hot at Anglesea to tempt me into the surf twice.



As we headed back to Melbourne at about lunchtime on Easter Monday, the temperature was over 30 degrees.

On returning to Melbourne, we visited a new landmark: Federation Square. A good place for people to congregate and the arts, but we were not wild about the brash architecture that seemed to be trying to integrate an ethnic Australian “feel”. I suspect that it will look dated and tacky after a few years.

We then headed to Toorak where we caught up with another school friend, Hugh Foxcroft and his wife Robyn and children Alexandra and John. A brisk walk around the opulent streets of Toorak, with some very expensive if at times garish, new building taking place, serving as a further reminder of Australia’s prolonged boom.

We had a very pleasant evening with Hugh and his family. Again catching-up and comparing notes. Hugh is a silk at the Victoria bar specialising in construction work so it was interesting to compare notes.

This morning we have been getting organised for our departure tomorrow. We are soon to pick up Deborah from her office at the factory of Ashwood Designs before a frivolous last afternoon and evening in Melbourne…

Melbourne

On Monday evening I flew into Melbourne. Sophia arrived about 3 hours later after the long flight from London. A sight for sore eyes! My sister Deborah picked us up.

Before leaving Tasmania I went kayaking from Sandy Bay and then Melanie and I met James for coffee on Battery Point. Then Melanie took me to the Meadowbank Winery for lunch (food as well as wine!).



A fantastic location and venue. As has been my usual experience in Tasmania, good food and wine also. After lunch we visited “historic Richmond” before heading for the airport. Richmond, whilst still beautiful, is a disappointment as it is now full of shops selling tourist tat.

Yesterday, after a lazy start, Deborah took Sophia and me to the Boulevard and Yarra Bend Park for a walk before meeting up with Deborah’s eldest, Michelle, who in the meantime was collecting Melanie from Tullamarine. Yes Melanie! She has flown to Melbourne for 2 days to see Sophia.

We went to Marne Street, where we lived for 5 years. It had not noticeably changed. Then to the Botanical Hotel (“the Bot H”) that used to be a local watering hole of the old fashioned variety, for a pre-lunch drink. Some makeover! I would not have known it was the same place but for its location.

After walking around the Botanic Gardens we arrived at the observatory for lunch. When I lived in Melbourne it was an observatory…

A good lunch in shaded sunshine. Sport was provided by the need to avoid bird droppings from birds resting on the canopy; Melanie received some “good luck”.

After checking out Bridge Road we headed back to Deborah and Harvey’s house for a barbeque.

Today more cruising around the old haunts, to include Tomani Bistro.



Tomani has not changed since we moved from South Yarra...before a meal out tonight to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Tomorrow we head to the Mornington Peninsula for the Easter holiday…

Wild Tasmania

This time I am not talking about the wilderness! Never a dull moment with Melanie and her girls. Add to the mix "Ten Days on the Island" festival, catching-up with Bernard and seeing James + family and friends, and I have been well entertained.

Following my return from the Frenchman's Cap, I had a pub dinner with Melanie, Hannah and Chloe.





Thursday was a lazy day until James rang and we met for drinks at Knopwoods, down at Salamanca. Melanie joined us and then we headed to Zum for lunch. Afterwards I met James' parents and then Susan Doyle, who is from Hobart but now is a winemaker on the Macmurray Ranch in California.

On Friday Melanie took me to Pepermint Bay for lunch.



After lunch I was "suckered"! I was told that I has to have hygienist appointment, but no sooner was I in the chair than Bernard was looming over me, ordering x-rays etc. Perhaps by way of making up, Bernard arranged a fantastic meal for me and James at a shoreside sea food restaurant at Lower Sandy Bay, Prossers. Later, we headed for Grape at Salamanca before "retiring hurt".

Yesterday (Saturday) I had a slow start, mooching around the Salamanca market. After a coffee I headed for my rendezvous with Tim, my brother who lives at 7 Mile Beach. I was standing at the appointed place when a car cruised past. It was the right type of car, but on seeing that the driver had long blond hair, I assumed that it was being driven by a "blond bombshell". It was only when Tim shouted my name that I realised that I had been looking at him sporting his new surfer image.

It was good to see Tim, albeit briefly, after 7 years, and to meet his son Noah who is effervescent and full of life. We had a good lunch at the Shoreline, where Noah had plenty of play area and new friends to keep him occupied.



Tim dropped me back at Salamanca, where after listening to the Red Hot Roosters (at the Ten Days on the Island) and bumping into James' parents at the Hobart Book Shop (which is fantastic) I headed back to Melanie's house before she Bernard and I went to a 2 man show at the festival called "Wheeler's Luck".

The show, which ran for about 90 minutes without a break, is well described as featuring a cast of 52 speaking roles, 300 extras, farm yard animals, dancing girls and an action packed finale to rival Ben Hur! Add to the mix that it is a NZ production about the risk to a local community of a big money development that was being resisted by the locals and you have some idea of what was going on. The only prop/set was a bell suspended in the centre of the stage. It was hilarious!




Afterwards we headed for Annapurna for a good Indian meal and later to T42 down by the harbour.

Today, Melanie took me to the Eaglehawk Neck, the narrow spit between Tasmania and the Tasman peninsula where Port Arthur is located.



In the days of the penal colony, the spit was patroled by soldiers with dogs, making escape from Port Arthur near impossible. This was a top down, rubber burning, Gary Moore blues sort of experience! After doing the touristy bits we had a picnic lunch and relax on a jetty, bathed in sunshine but protected from the strong wind.



Tonight I am having a last supper with Melanie, Chloe and Hannah. Tomorrow afternoon I leave Hobart. The plan is for me to kayak in the morning, then Melanie and I will head to a Winery called Meadowbank for lunch as it is near the airport. After flying to Melboure and drawing breath, I shall finally see Sophia again, as she is due to arrive a couple of hours after me.