I stumbled downstairs on Sunday morning because the housekeeper had left me DECAF!!! The only people I encountered were two of the black princesses from the previous evening’s wedding, now sporting hoodies, headscarves, dorm pants, and slippers.
I topped of my travel mug, and then Betsy and I walked over the median and through the parking lots to Wegman’s where we stocked up for the trip home. The whole place gets a 10 rating, with special recognition for the manager.
As soon as we stepped outside the hotel, we found the entire portico area housed a fleet of huge motorcycles out of Ontario. Betsy noticed their pristine condition, and on our return the odor of a heavy-duty solvent wafted through the air as the portly, graying, tattooed bikers shined and polished and buffed.
We parted at D&D across the river before hitting the road at about 10 a.m.
The return trip was much quicker, mainly because there was no active construction and not nearly as many restricted areas. Plus until about noon the traffic stayed at a mere trickle. Either people were in church or sleeping in. I had better luck with radio reception – actually managed to hear pieces of Car Talk. The boys sound better when they fade in and out. They’re a perfect accompaniment to a road trip.
Even the lunatic area from Danbury to I-691 wasn’t too bad, though there was the usual quota of idiot drivers.
Loved the trip but looking forward to being stationary for a while so I can implement all the stuff I set up in W’port.