… I had had one of the best nights sleep that I had ever had – flat-out for about 9 hours non-stop and I was awake quite early.
So after updating my notes on the computer I had a lovely wash (but I’m still drawing the line at paying for a hot shower on top of whatever campsite fees I’ve paid already) and then a breakfast of bagels, strawberry jam and coffee (the orange juice has gone off, so it seems).
It was still early and so I went for a wander around the lake in the early-morning sun.
And the place was as quiet as the grave too, even though there were quite a few campers on the site. I came to the conclusion that I would have been quite happy to have stayed here for a few days in the peace and quiet. I might have found a little peace, but I’m not sure how I would be able to keep her quiet.
One of the places that I encountered on my travels was this building here in Concord, New Hampshire. This is the site of a house called Mount Pleasant which was the home of Mary Baker Eddy, founder of the Christian Scientists. The building now on the site was formerly the Home for retired Christian Scientist parcticioners and nurses.
I shan’t pass any comment about what I think about Christian Scientists, but any religion, and I do mean any religion, that owns a place like this and reserves it for its personnel when there are billions starving and living in poverty needs to have another good read of the Scriptures, and in particular the bit that says “give all that thous hast to the poor”.
But from here I’ve had a couple of illusions shattered, and another opinion strongly reinforced.
Firstly, I stopped at a place that was selling redundant school buses – dozens of them all about the place, but despite it being 11:00 in the morning, the place was as deserted as the Mary Celeste. Not a soul about at all – no-one to try to sell me a school bus. Normally, whenever you set foot in a shop in the USA you are immediately overwhelmed by sales personnel. Here, when you really do want to find one, there’s no-one about at all.
Secondly, at a caravan sales place, a salesman was summoned to talk to be about jack-leg pickup bed caravans, but on the way over he stopped to talk to someone else for a good five minutes leaving me like piffy on a rock. When he finally came over, even my taunt of “if you’re far too busy to talk to me I’ll come back later” didn’t elicit even a hint of an apology. Yes, the legendary American customer service is really going down the pan.
The other incident relates to the Royal Bank of Scotland, with which I an unfortunate enough to bank. I went into a branch of the Citizen’s Bank of New Hampshire, the North American affiliate of the RBS, to withdraw some cash, and my transaction was declined. This was the final straw in a long line of miserable dealings with what I consider to be the world’s worst bank, and I shall be sorting out this sorry state of affairs when I return.
From there it was a case of driving all the wy across Maine and I arived at Clinton at 16:00, eactly as predicted.
I’ve witnessed a childrens’ pig scramble (which with the present state of affairs in the USA you are not allowed to photograph) and a tractor pull event, and had chips (fries) for tea.
And then I proved that it is completely possible to sleep through a tractor pull event, but not a firework display.
