Discovering The Real America

Stories about places seen and people met as Moragh travels solo in the USA

My 2007 trip to Boston, Massachusetts

My 2007 trip to Boston, Massachusetts

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In 2007 I took my first solo trip to the USA. I included a trip to Boston, Massachusetts, to visit my sister, Janet, who has lived in that area for over forty years. Due to the distance between us, we don’t see each other very often. My decision to cross the Atlantic that year was also fuelled by the desire to meet up with a number of my e-mail friends, a lot of whom I had first met via MySpace. Janet and I spent a week together during this month-long trip.

My Arrival

I had arrived in Orlando in April and, during my three days stay in Sanford, I met successfully up with five Florida friends. I then headed back to Orlando airport and flew up north to Boston. Janet met me at Logan airport. This was actually my second trip to Boston as I had been once before, in 1996, with my husband, Frank. That trip was the one and only trip to America my husband ever made, as his disability rendered him unfit to fly after that.

Janet drove me to her house, where I got myself settled in and had a nice meal with her. At this time she was living in Charlestown, just across the Charles River from the main city of Boston, much nearer the city from where she had lived before. Her house was near the top of the hill and, from there, she had a panoramic view of the Boston rooftops and skyscrapers.

Views over the rooftops from Janet's Charlestown home.

Views over the rooftops from Janet’s Charlestown home.

Going Dancing

While in Boston, Janet  twice took me contra dancing (something I had not tried before). It is a difficult style of dance to describe, but this video will show you how it’s done. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RsvBiTfY7lI. There is a lot of spinning round in this style of dancing and by the end of a dance I was having trouble staying upright, as I was so giddy. They tell you that, to reduce dizziness, you should look straight into your partner’s eyes … slightly embarrassing when you are dancing with a total stranger. Alternatively, you can fix your eyes on the middle of their forehead, but even this didn’t work for me.

Contra Dancing in Boston

Contra Dancing in Boston

Apologies for the photo being a bit blurry, but my camera couldn’t cope with the speed of the whirling dancers.

One evening I managed to persuade her to take me to a local line dance class instead. We enjoyed the evening, even though Janet wasn’t as keen on line dancing as I was.

Later that week she took me to the North East Folk Festival Association (NEFFA) folk festival about 30 miles away, in the town of Mansfield, southwest of Boston. It was held in the buildings belonging to Mansfield High and Middle Schools. The festival has a long history, having run every year since 1944. There were many craft stalls available, where one could browse through their colourful wares. Various groups of musicians were set up in different classrooms for the listening audience and there was dancing in various styles in the main hall. There were also some workshops available for anyone interested.

Folk dancing at NEFFA festival 2007

Folk dancing at NEFFA festival 2007

 

Craft Stalls at the NEFFA folk festival

Craft Stalls at the NEFFA folk festival

Exploring Boston

Janet was still working part-time, so while she was at work I explored the city on my own. Some of the places I went to were the Museum of Science, Quincy Market and nearby Faneuil Hall. This was not my first visit to the Museum of Science. Frank and I had been there during our 1996 trip, but there is so much to see there it was well worth another visit.The shear number of exhibits takes my breath away. Have a look here …

Quincy Market and Faneuil Hall are also fascinating places to wander round. The variety of wares sold there is huge, something for everyone. Apart from the extensive indoor markets on two floors, there are the outdoor market stalls between the two halls. Hours could be spent there browsing around. A poster says there are now more than 70 shops, 10 pubs and restaurants and 40 pushcarts in Faneuil Hall Marketplace.

The bustling scene at Quincy Market

The bustling scene at Quincy Market

 

Pushcarts displaying colourful goods for sale

Colourful pushcarts at Quincy Market, Boston

Down by the Harbour

The New England Aquarium can be found down by the harbour. It features a gigantic glass tank, with a multilevel walkway spiralling around and up the side of it. From this walkway I could get a good view of many types of fish and other water creatures in the tank. I could also look down and see the penguins, which were in pools on the ground-floor level. The aquarium claim to have about 600 species on display here.

Penguins at New England Aquarium, Boston

Penguins at New England Aquarium, Boston

Nearby there were boat trips around the harbour on offer, but I didn’t take one on this trip.

Part of Boston Harbour

Part of Boston Harbour

At the end of that week with my sister in Boston, I flew down to Nashville for my first visit there. More trips were to follow, but I will write about those in in future posts. Please Sign Up to be notified of future posts.

A Near Miss … or Two

A Near Miss … or Two

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Driving on unfamiliar roads in the United States has led to a near miss or two for me. Coming from the UK, I’d always been used to driving on the left-hand side of the road. I was not yet used to being on the right-hand side. I also had to learn the customs and norms of driving in America.

The first near miss

I had reached a junction with a road with three lanes going each way. From the side road I was on, I needed to make a left-hand turn to get onto the south-bound lanes. Having already safely crossed the three north-bound lanes, I’d  paused on the median while preparing to move into a south-bound lane. I had seen a truck in the far distance that was travelling south, but reckoned I had plenty of time to get myself onto the near-side lane before he reached that point. Getting onto the nearside lane would be normal practice in the UK and I’d expected the truck driver to overtake me using the centre lane, if he needed to.

What I hadn’t yet learned was that it is common practice, certainly in the southern states, for vehicles to overtake one another on either side. As a result, the truck driver wasn’t expecting me to pull over into the same lane that he was in. He must also have been travelling faster than I had anticipated, probably well above the speed limit.

As he drew close to me, he suddenly realised that I had pulled into his lane. He slammed on his brakes and swerved, skidding onto the hard shoulder. He stopped momentarily and, as we drew level, I signalled an apology to him.

Driving a bit further down the road, I pulled into the first forecourt I came to. I was expecting him to pull up there too and to give me a verbal ticking-off, or worse. But, no. He just carried on driving and I never saw him again. He must have realised that I was not a local, deciding that I was just an ignorant foreign tourist. Either that, or he just thought me a stupid old lady.

Wrong Turn near Nashville

On another occasion, on the outskirts of Nashville, I was looking for the turn-off I needed. My SatNav (GPS) was telling me to take the next left turn. I saw what I thought was the turn-off. It momentarily crossing my mind that this was a very sharp turn. However, as I turned, it was only then that I realised that I had turned too soon. I had, in fact, turned onto the ramp, or slip-road, that was bringing traffic onto the road that I was trying to leave.

There I was, facing a line of traffic coming down the ramp. All the approaching cars just came to a halt and waited while I reversed back and turned to face the way I should have been. They were all so very polite, no hooting of horns or aggressive behaviour. I’m not sure that UK drivers would have been that courteous, but maybe drivers in that area were used to foreign tourist making errors like that. Anyway, I won’t be making that mistake again in a hurry.

However, on each occasion, I’m glad to say, I was spared what could have been a very serious outcome. I have since driven many thousands of miles in the States and have avoided any similar mistakes, I’m glad to say.

My Much Travelled Red Coat

My Much Travelled Red Coat

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Me in my red coat in the atrium of the Opryland Hotel.

Me in my red coat in the atrium of the Opryland Hotel.

My Much Travelled Red Coat

My red coat has crossed the Atlantic almost as many times as I have, and that’s a good many times. If I’ve counted right, it will be twenty-six times, between 2007 and 2016, counting the outward and return trips. If it could talk, I’m sure it would have some interesting tales to tell. It is my favourite warm coat, with a quilted lining and some fake fur round the collar. As I’ve travelled around, there has been many a time that I’ve been very glad to have it with me.

Extreme temperature variations are common in the States, hot in the day and cold at night, and often surprisingly chilly in summer evenings. During one autumn trip I went to visit my sister flying from Florida up to Boston, MA. I’d left Orlando in the 70s F, arriving in Boston to temperatures just above freezing, with snow threatening and a bitterly cold east wind. Boy, was I glad of my red coat that trip. In fact, it was so cold I had to borrow an extra fleece off my sister to put over my sweaters under my coat.

Braving the Elements

Another time, early May this time, I went to a one-day, open-air, music festival in Livingston, TN. The weather has been quite mild in the days leading up to the festival. But things changed when the day of the festival arrived, when a cold front blew in. It rained all day and a bitterly cold wind was blowing. The bands and singers were playing in an open-sided tent, through which the wind whistled, but at least it gave some shelter from the incessant rain. I wore my thickest sweaters, a sleeveless fleece and a scarf, over which I wore my red coat. I also had my hat and gloves on. Wearing all that, I just about managed to stay warm enough through the day, but I enjoyed the music in spite of the weather.

My red coat’s solo trip

Another year, after again spending a few days with my sister, we were standing at the train station waiting for the train into Boston. My sister was living in a small town about 15 miles out of Boston. That morning, she was going into work at the main hospital and I was heading to the airport to fly down to Nashville. That was when I suddenly realised that I’d left my red coat on the hook in her hallway. I was wearing my lightweight jacket that day, as the weather was very mild, so had clean forgotten about my other coat. If we’d gone back for it, we would have missed the train and we’d have both been late arriving at our destinations.

I had planned to be spending several days in Nashville, so the next morning my sister parcelled my coat up and sent it by express mail to my hotel in Nashville. It was an expensive trip for my coat, but, although I’d asked my sister how she wanted me to pay her, she never did tell me … so I guess I still owe her. So that’s how my coat got to travel on its own, unaccompanied by me, via UPS, on the next leg of its journey. At the end of its solo journey, a couple of days later, I was mighty glad to be reunited with it, not least because my house keys were in one of its pockets.

Houston and Galveston

During another trip, I’d flown to Houston, TX, to spend the weekend with my cousin and his wife. On the Saturday morning, his youngest grandson was celebrating his first birthday with a party at a local play park. I’d misjudged the weather that morning and I’d left my red coat back at the house. I soon regretted this, as the wind was much cooler than I’d anticipated. However, I did make sure that I was wearing it the next day when we went on a ferry trip across Galveston harbour.

Visiting the Opryland Hotel

On one of my early trips to Nashville I met up with my friend, Arlene. I had originally made contact with her in about 2005 through MySpace and we first met face to face in 2007 during my first trip to Nashville. The following year she took me down to see the Opryland Hotel. This is a huge complex and is very grand inside. There are shops, grand hallways with massive, floor-to-ceiling, murals on the walls of some of them, grand staircases and beautiful tiled or carpeted floors. The mural depict scenes of Nashville in times past.

Many of the bedrooms are overlooking their indoor garden, a massive atrium, covered by a glass roof … like a huge conservatory. It has waterfalls and cascades, beautiful flowers and ferns, and there are multi-level walkways throughout. We spent several hours looking round the place, enjoying it.

Just three years later, in 2010, the whole area was badly damaged by the worst floods that Nashville had ever known. When the Cumberland River topped the flood barriers, after cresting at nearly 52 feet above normal, it inundated the hotel and the atrium with ten feet of water. It took about eighteen months for the restoration work to be fully completed, though the hotel did reopen six months later.

http://gadling.com/2011/08/23/after-the-flood-nashvilles-rebuilt-gaylord-opryland-hotel/

My Red Coat is still travelling

These are just some of the highlights that spring to mind about the adventures of my much travelled red coat. There are many more untold tales and I’m sure there will be more to come, but this is all for now. Feel free to add any comments you wish or if you have any questions, please ask.

I just missed Hurricane Matthew

I just missed Hurricane Matthew

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On October the 4th 2016 I flew into Orlando International airport, missing Hurricane Matthew by just two days. Of course, when I booked my trip I had no idea that there would be a hurricane at all while I was in the States. I had chosen to fly in October rather than the beginning of September, partly due to another hurricane forecast.  This was for Hurricane Hermine, a category 1 hurricane, which became the first to make landfall for eleven years.

Hurricane Matthew was forecast to be a bad one, and so it proved to be. At category 3 at its offshore centre, it was the strongest one to affect the east coast of Florida in eleven years, even though it didn’t quite make landfall. It did, however, travel parallel with the coast, just offshore, causing high winds, storm surges and torrential rain. These combined to cause a lot of damage up the east coast of Florida and into south-east Georgia and South and North Carolina.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurricane_Matthew

Most people on the plane I flew in on seemed to be totally unaware of Hurricane Matthew’s approach. I never heard once anyone mention it and I didn’t have the heart to draw it to their attention. It would have only caused them to start worrying about it before they needed to. They’d find out about it soon enough. They would get plenty of advice about how to prepare for it, after they had landed. Many of them were heading to Disneyland and the people there were used to dealing with hurricanes.

A Change of Plan needed

I had intended to stay two nights in Florida before moving up north. However, my friends, who I had planned to visit early in my trip, were all busy preparing for the arrival of Hurricane Matthew. So I cancelled the second night I’d booked in Sanford, and headed up into Georgia. Fortunately, I booked a room for that night in Macon, GA, before I left.

Arriving in Macon, after a six hour drive, there was not a room to be had anywhere in that area. This was due to the sheer number of people who were evacuating their homes and heading north. I learned next day that, during an evacuation, traffic flow on the south-bound lanes is reversed on the Interstates. This meant there were six lanes of traffic heading north on I-75.

As I was booking in, the hotel receptionist was fielding calls every few minutes from people looking for rooms. She was telling them all the rooms in whole area were fully booked and that their best bet was to head for Atlanta, almost two hours drive further north.

Keeping Track of Hurricane Matthew

In order to keep myself updated about its progress, I regularly watched the ‘Tracking Hurricane Matthew’ news channel. At one point there was a fear that, after it had travelled up the coast, it would circle round over the ocean and come round to hit the Florida coast a second time. I believe this had only happened once before since records had been kept, but fortunately this second hit did not materialise.

The next day, I cut across into Alabama. To continue on up towards Atlanta, my usual route, I risked getting stuck in a traffic jam for hours. I phoned a friend who lives in north Alabama and we arranged to meet up in Fort Payne that evening.  When I arrived, she and her husband treated me to a meal at the Cracker Barrel restaurant. After parting company again, I spent the night at a motel in Rainsville, just six miles further up the road. Then the next day I continued my journey on into Tennessee.

I was glad to learn that all my Florida friends suffered only minor damage to their homes and that they were all safe and sound.

Really Lost – the First Time

Really Lost – the First Time

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Orlando International Airport lounge overlooked by the Hyatt Hotel

It was day four of my first trip to Florida, after arriving on Wednesday April 11th 2007, and it was time to head for the airport in Orlando again, this time to get the flight to Boston, Massachusetts, to visit my sister. Airports have never been my favourite places to drive to as they are so easy to get really lost in, with their myriad of junctions and (to me) confusing signage.

I’d just had a thoroughly enjoyable few days in Florida. The hotel where I been staying, the Comfort Inn & Suites in Sanford, lived up to its name and was very comfortable, and the staff were so welcoming. One of the hotel’s best features, as far as I was concerned, was breakfast being available until 10.30 am, as I am not a natural early riser. At most hotels, breakfast is not available after 9.00 or 9.30 am. I had picked this hotel because I knew it was near where my new friends, Jack and Misty lived. It was lovely to meet them, when they came round to the hotel, and I spent far more time with them during the next two days than I expected would be possible. I was delighted to find out how well we got on together.

However, after four nights in Sanford, it was now time to move on.

This story is about how I got completely lost at Orlando airport. I had, in fact, almost got lost three days earlier. I had picked up a rental car the Thursday morning and I took it out for a test drive. Surprisingly, it didn’t take me too long to get used to driving on the opposite side of the road to what I was used to. But there was no SatNav (GPS) in that car and, as I drove round the town exploring, it wasn’t long before I took a wrong turn … but I’ve already written about that episode in my previous post.

Heading back to the airport

After leaving the hotel this Sunday morning, I set off down the FL-417 towards the airport. My first error was when I thought I was in the nearside lane, but discovered, too late, that it was an exit lane. I found my way to a gas station and, after filling the car, the gas station attendant gave me directions about how to get back on the right road for the airport. But, it was when I reached the airport, that’s when I found myself really lost.

On the way I also had my first experience of toll booths, where I found myself fumbling round, trying to find the right change in the unfamiliar currency.

Going Round in Circles

Once I eventually reached the airport, I went round and round in circles trying to find where I should drop off my rental car. I seemed to be able to find every rental company under the sun, apart from the one I needed. I have never felt so lost in all my life. Eventually I pulled into the drop-off bay for another company to ask the way.

The first person I asked couldn’t even speak English, but he called another girl over. She spoke English but she didn’t know where I had to go either. However, she pointed to a security guard, who she said would be able to direct me. He was, in deed, able to help, but I had to get him to write down the directions as the drop-off point I needed was five miles from the airport.

Once I had successfully dropped the car off, I was directed to the shuttle bus which would take me back to the airport. It dropped me off at the terminal I needed and I was safely on my way again. I was mighty happy to have overcome that hurdle.

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