Living in New England like a tourist implies that while living here, I visit places normally frequented by tourists. That isn’t too difficult for me as I’m a transplant. My wife, however, is a replant. She was born here, and lived here off an on through most of her growing years. After thirty-five years she’s back and re-acclimating herself to the terrain. Friday night I suggested we go to the beach on Saturday and she agreed it would be a great idea. On Saturday, I woke early showered, and dressed as I always do, prepared for our trip to the beach. Janet woke and asked me why I was dressed, she thought we agreed to go to the beach. For me, the beach meant to go to the ocean, explore the area, and maybe get in the water if we wanted. For her, going to the beach meant dressing in beachwear and camping out on the sandy beach for most of the day. It was obvious that we had both agreed to a different concept of going to the beach. It was decided from that day forward, that a day on the beach would be a day at the beach, a day at the beach would be a day at the coast. Though disappointed, Janet conceded and agreed to a day at the coast.
We started at Hampton Beach for a trip down memory lane for Janet. She pointed out the state park her family stopped at during her childhood, and Browns crab shack where her grandmother ordered a lobster every time. We were lucky and happened to be there during the annual sand sculpture competition. Their work was amazing, and so sad that it’s temporary. After Hampton, we continued up the coast to Portsmouth. If I lived anywhere along the coast it would be in Portsmouth with its vibrant downtown and historic sites. It is certainly one of the most beautiful towns in all of New England. So today I learned, that I can explore like a tourist, but I need to speak like a local.
“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.” – Helen Keller
By the title, one might think that I took a weekend and drove across New York State to visit Niagara falls as a weekend adventure. While that may happen in the future, that’s not what happened this weekend. Janet’s school year ended on Friday, June 5th. On Saturday morning she packed up the mini-van, said goodbye to my parents and our son, and drove to St. Louis to await my arrival to drive the remainder of the trip. We chose to do it this way as it saved us a lot of time in the end. Our drive to New Hampshire was nearly identical to that of my trip with the cats two months earlier. One notable exception was our stop to see Niagara Falls.
A lot has happened since the last post. I moved out of Kim & Steve’s house into an apartment in Manchester. I moved in the week before spring break. So for a week, I slept on an inflatable mattress and used a folding chair to sit in. I also didn’t have any pots and pans to cook with, so I made do with microwaveable cooking. Saturday I flew to Kansas City to load up the U-Haul and bring all of our possessions to New Hampshire. This meant that Janet now needed to move in with my parents until I could come back for her after her school year ended. I traveled back with the three cats and saw some beautiful scenery in upstate New York and Vermont. I hired some guys to unload the truck and felt good to have some furniture in the apartment. Because of all the moving and getting situated, weekend adventures kind of stopped for awhile. But a different kind of adventure presented itself in the latter part of May.
We concluded our trip to NYC with a tour of Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. After buying souvenirs at a battery souvenir shop, our bus took us through mid-town and Times Square and I was asked to point out famous landmarks along the way. I can’t say that a field trip is my favorite way to visit NYC, but it’s still so awesome to think that this type of field trip is only a little farther adventure than the one’s I took to Jefferson City with my 4th graders. I love living in New England!
I’m a geek. Before computer technology came around, I was merely a band and choir geek. However, I’ve always loved devices that have buttons. Though a digital immigrant, I boarded the technology boat and sailed to the new world with open arms. I say all this to explain why I would choose to visit the MIT museum in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
I’ve been a traveler since I was one year old and my parents loaded the car and moved from Hertford, NC to Kansas City, MO. Whether it was visiting my grandparents in Washington state, vacationing in Florida, or traveling with a Christian music and drama troupe, my childhood and young adult life was filled cross country adventures. Before moving to New England, I’d visited 46 states. One state on my bucket list was Vermont, and this day was the day I got to cross it off. I suppose I could have chosen a touristy place like the Von Trapp lodge in Stowe or maybe the state capital in Montpelier, but I decided to be boring and go to Burlington. I really don’t know why, but being the largest city in Vermont, I figured it would have something worth seeing. I remember reading an article a few years ago how local residents wanted Lake Champlain to be listed as a great lake. I guess I wanted to lend my expert opinion to the debate. Who knows, but I got in my truck and began the trek. The drive from Bow to Burlington is about three hours, three hours of wooded mountainous highway, with occasional towns and villages along the way. Even Montpelier was little more than a two exit town off the freeway.
I arrived in Burlington and proceeded to the western side of town to see if this lake was truly a great lake. I’ve seen Lakes Michigan, Superior, Huron, and Ontario and know that like the ocean, when I stand on the shore I cannot see the other side. I guess this is my definition of a great lake. I hate to tell the residents, but Lake Champlain doesn’t meet my criteria for a great lake. Beautiful it is, all covered in ice and snow. I especially enjoyed the view of the Adirondack mountains of New York across on the other side.
Nothing says Valentines like a trip to Salem, MA. Oh wait, I think my holidays are mixed up. I’d been excited to see Salem ever since I moved here. I remember reading the Crucible in high school, and learning about the Salem witch trials both in school and on television. I guess the best image in my mind was the one cemented by the movie Hocus Pocus. Witches eating children, talking black cats, and cemeteries filled with zombies all crowded my thoughts as I ventured my way to one of the oldest cities in Massachussets.
Across the street from the visitor’s center was the Peabody Art Museum. Though I would have loved to have wandered through the collection, I knew my time was precious and that would have to wait for another trip. I wandered down the main street was amazed at the number of fortune telling and occult related shops. This place really plays up its connections to the supernatural. A few months later I was sharing a row on the plane with a young man who’d attended college in the neighboring town. He said Halloween is quite the celebration in Salem with many people coming from all over the country to join the festivities.
After lunch, I wandered down to the wharf to tour the ship Freedom and the customs house at the end of the pier. Like the Mayflower, this sailing vessel offered a glimpse into the life of a seaman prior to the mid-18th century. At the customs house, I learned that the famous novelist, Nathaniel Hawthorn, worked as a customs agent. The guide shared with us that he hated the job, and used the time to draft manuscripts of his novels. I walked down the street to Hawthorne’s home, The House of Seven Gables, saving a tour of the inside for another day.
My last adventure in Salem was the Witch Museum. Located in an old stone church, this museum holds artifacts from the 1620’s as well as a Disney like presentation of the events of the Salem witch trials. The audience sits on benches in the middle of the room while dioramas are lit around the room telling the events of the story. I thought the presentation was excellent and perfectly ended the day. Salem is a true tourist adventure that requires a second, or possibly even a third visit.
My first year here was full of comparisons to my home in Kansas City. Growing up we had some winters that may have seen a foot of snow, but over the years, a good snow storm usually only produced 4-6 inches. That was enough to close school for a day or two. Clearing the roads was usually the culprit. Occasionally ice would also be a factor.
One of the beauties of snow is how it equalizes properties. Everywhere appears clean and crisp. This is particularly evident along the coast as the cold waters of the North Atlantic ocean crash against dark rocks of the seashore, bordered by the white snow. I took a drive back to York and Ogunquit, Maine. There is something very calming about the ocean. Sometimes I drive there, just to watch the waves. I parked my truck to walk the marginal way. Parts of the trail were covered in ice, and it was tricky to navigate. The views were worth it. I got back in the truck and drove down some of the back-roads to see more of the local scenery.
I began today’s journey in Concord, MA, home of the shot heard round the world. School children throughout America learn of this famous place and the infamous bridge where the Revolutionary War began. It was a beautiful crisp day in November, perfect for a walk through history. The downtown of Concord is filled with coffee shops, antique stores, and locally owned niche shops. My first thought was that I needed to bring Janet here when she moves. The town square is lined with colonial style churches, inns, and other store fronts.
Walking a little ways out of the downtown area I found Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. Though Washington Irving’s Sleepy Hollow is in Terrytown, NY, one could easily envision a headless horseman making rounds through this sprawling complex. Sleepy Hollow cemetery seems like it was taken straight from Hocus Pocus. Elaborate headstones and mausoleums dot the winding roadways through the hilly terrain. Nathaniel Hawthorne, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Louisa May Alcott, and Henry David Thoreau are some of the more famous authors buried in a section called author’s ridge.
Plymouth Rock seems like a must see, but after all I visit like a tourist. My favorite part of the day was the tour through the Mayflower 2. The guide was dressed in period costume and acted as though he were a sailor of the times. I called my parents and shared the experience with them as they had toured the ship a year or so before.
My other brother-in-law and family live just west of Plymouth in West Bridgewater, so I finished the day at their house with a nice visit and dinner. Days like this are what make me love living in New England!
Not every adventure is designed for fun. When I left Kansas City, Janet was not sure if she was ready to sell the house. Three weeks after I’d moved she was convinced the house was too much to keep up on her own, and agreed to list the house as soon as possible. My first trip back home introduced me to LaGuardia airport. I write this from the hindsight of 5 years. I remember being so excited to find my connection was through this infamous destination. It didn’t take long to figure out why so many people avoid it. I believe we sat on the tarmac a good 45 minutes to an hour before the plane took off. One of the cool things I noticed about LaGuardia was the overabundance of iPads for public use. Even food was ordered from iPad kiosks at the gate restaurants.
My weekend adventures were starting to take on a life of their own and Facebook friends were eagerly anticipating my next jaunt. Many commented they were living vicariously through my posts. One of my absolute favorite journeys was to visit Ogunquit, ME for a production of Buddy, The Buddy Holly Story at the Ogunquit Playhouse.
Our tickets were for the matinee, but I wanted to get there early to see this little town. We had passed through Ogunquit in August after visiting York with the family. All I remembered though was the terrible intersection that had no stop signs or traffic light and had cars backed up for miles. I knew there had to be more to this town, though than an intersection.
What I discovered was Ogunquit is probably my favorite town in all New England. The downtown is filled with trendy shops including candy shops, fashion boutiques, antique stores, and restaurants. All the buildings are kept really well and the sign boards are masterfully crafted. It’s a very gay friendly community that keeps the town bustling with energy.
The fall is a great time to go because the beach crowds are gone, but the town is still alive with energy. I enjoyed my first lobstuh roll there as well.
The Ogunquit Playhouse is one of the few remaining summer stock playhouses for Broadway performers. All the actors are equity and the productions are top notch. The cool thing is that the house isn’t any larger than a typical high school theater, so all the seats are great. Janet & I have been back for other shows and always have a great time. Another reason that fall is a great time to visit is that the flowers are still in bloom and create brilliant splashes of color.
Fall is big in New England. When we lived in Missouri, Janet always commented that the colors were never as pretty as in New England. After moving here, I understand exactly what she meant. Not only are the leaves more vibrant, but the towns in New England seem to live for this time of the year. There are festivals in many towns and villages and quirky traditions. I drive through couple of small towns on the way to work, Chester & Auburn. Auburn sits right on Massabesic Lake and is surrounded by gorgeous fall foliage. There’s a small waterfall on the creek that passes under a bridge and empties into the lake that makes for absolutely beautiful pictures. Chester has a tradition of creating scarecrows that line the road. I’ve counted at least 25 scarecrows on the way to work, but the paper says that there are over 100 scattered throughout the community. The month of October is a big tourist month in New England, attracting both land tours and cruise ships. So, like a tourist, I’ve taken a few pictures for you to enjoy.
The year without Janet meant that three day weekends were made for traveling. Knowing my daughter was only half a day’s drive, meant that holiday weekends with nice weather were perfect opportunities to head back down to New Jersey. Autumn told me she wouldn’t be home from work till Saturday evening, so I stopped in New York for a walking tour. I decided not to do any subways, museums, or shows and walked seven miles through the east side of city. My sites included Grand Central Station, the United Nations Building, the Library, St. Patrick’s cathedral, and Central Park. 
Some of the things I learned from this walk would be helpful in future trips. One of the most exciting experiences was to actually drive in Manhattan. I don’t know if I could have done it without Samantha (the GPS). It was a great learning experience, and I’ve driven many times since. Prior to this year, I’d been to NYC three times. This was my second time in 2 months. I was beginning to feel like a regular.
Since I’d already been to the city, Autumn and I felt it would be good for us to visit the beach. They live about twenty minutes inland from Seaside, NJ, but hardly ever go. During hurricane Sandy, this town lost its roller coaster and experienced significant damage to its boardwalk. Not more than six months later, the boardwalk experienced a large fire as well. Autumn and I went to visit the boardwalk and enjoyed a cup of frozen yogurt. During this visit, I helped them get a futon for their home.
New Hampshire and Massachusetts are filled with towns and villages that are nearly 400 years old. Many have buildings that have stood the test of time and existed during the colonial period. Exeter’s claim to fame is to be the first capital of New Hampshire and home to Philips Exeter school, an Ivy League prep. It is a very beautiful town, with stately old mansions and exquisitely manicured lawns. The downtown is certainly worth walking around.
It’s hard to imagine that I lived here almost two months before going to Boston. The day was beautiful though, and Beantown was calling. I’d been to Boston a couple of times before, but never on my own. Steve recommended that I park at the Wellington subway station and take the train in. That proved to be an excellent idea as parking in Boston is difficult to find and really expensive. I’ve been to a lot of cities, but Boston is one of my favorites. There’s nothing like the history and vibrancy all rolled into one. In the business district and north end, there are sites that hearken back to the revolution. In the back bay there are shops and artistic venues that make Boston a hub of culture. Sandwiched in-between are the Boston Commons and Boston Public Gardens.
I got off the train at Haymarket station and began my walking tour down Marshall Street. The cool thing about Marshall street is that many of the buildings are at least 200 years old. It claims to have the oldest tavern in America. Cobblestone streets are common in Boston, but this street wears them like a badge. I proceeded through Marshall street to Faneuil Hall & Quincy Market. 
Quincy Market is part mall and one very large ethnically diverse food court. After an Asian lunch, I walked through the financial district and then back to the North end. I’d been to the North End once 10 years prior and was amazed at how different everything was after the big dig project. Some say it’s more commercialized and touristy. I’m not an expert, but touristy or not, it’s a great place to visit. I walked by Paul Revere’s house which I’d toured before. Then I stopped at St. Leonard’s church to rest and regroup. While not as glorious as churches in Rome or Paris, it has a relaxing feel in the heart of the city. I traveled down Hanover St. and into the North Church grounds.
Since I’d already visited North Church a few years earlier on a visit to Steve and Kim’s I only snuck some pictures through the windows. I moved on to the harbor side to take pictures of Bunker Hill and the Constitution. I’ve been to the Constitution twice, and don’t feel a need to revisit. With my walk complete, I made my way to North Station to board the Orange train back to my truck. I’ve been back to Boston many times just to walk around. It never gets old.
Being close to our daughter was the primary reason to move to New England. Bow is about a six hour drive to Jim and Autumn’s house in Manchester, NJ and I was eager to try it out. Those in the mid-west are used to driving long distances to get from place to place. The most direct way to central New Jersey is through New York City. I’d traveled this way on my way to New England, and the amount of traffic was a little scary. I knew that in order to get used to it, I’d need to do it often. 
The Labor Day weekend
My wife’s family, the Sheppards, are native New Englanders. Both her parents grew up in Fitchburg, MA and spent the early years of their marriage living 
in Massachusetts and Vermont before moving to upstate New York. Jim is a die hard Red Sox fan and they both watch Boston baseball, basketball, and football teams as regularly as attending church. 
We celebrated their 50th anniversary in 2008 by renting my aunt’s beach house in New Jersey. Their 55th was a much lower keyed event with a celebration here in Bow. Janet was able to fly here for the event. It was the first time I’d seen her in over a month. Janet’s brother, Ken, and his family drove up from West Bridgewater, and many other friends attended the event. After the friends left, family piled into three vehicles and traveled to York, Maine. York is a little more than an hour north east of Bow/Concord, and holds special significance to Jim & June. Nubble light is their favorite of all New England lighthouses. The trip wasn’t complete without a visit. 
I grew up in the mid-west, so going to the beach required a 1200-2000 mile trip in either direction. To live less than an hour from the beach is a treat that still amazes me. For years Janet had shared stories of her family going to Hampton Beach. It seemed only logical that one of the first places to explore would be the beach. Hampton Beach is very popular in New England. New Hampshire has only about 30 miles of coast line, but many visitors from Canada to New York. I walked the boardwalk that was lined with t-shirt shops, souvenir stands, arcades, and eateries. Before leaving, I found a great little crab shack to enjoy an authentic New England seafood dinner. There will be other posts about the beach because this is one adventure that keeps us living in New England like a tourist.
Living in New England Like a Tourist 