Tag Archives: new jersey

Wednesday 14th October 2020 – IT LOOKS AS IF …

… the fishing season is now back with a bang.

While you admire the piles of fishing boats queueing to get into harbour and unload, I’ll mention my day and we can talk about fishing boats later.

For a start, just by way of a change, I was up and about well before the third alarm yet again, which is something that is surprising me as much as it’s probably surprising you too. I can’t keep this up, surely?

And so first task this morning was to listen to the dictaphone to see if I had been anywhere during the night.

And I had too!

It started off last night with a scandal when a bowls team was disqualified for fielding an ineligible player in a tournament. Once his identity had been discovered they awarded all of the remaining points to the opponents. However the organisers took no further action because his arrival at the club had been well-documented in the Press previously.

And just WHAT am I doing dreaming about bowls? It’s a game with which I have absolutely no empathy whatsoever. I’ve only ever played bowls once in my life and then not very well.

So while they are unloading the bouchots about which we talked the other day, there was something going on during the night about car parking. I wanted to park a vehicle on some waste land between some buildings. I parked the building but left a note for the people who owned it. They telephoned me back and passed me on to someone. We ended up having quite a chat about it. They wanted money for it so in the end I decided not to do that. In the meantime they told me that if I would be passing the representative’s place which was at n°230 such-and-such a street in Shavington. So I went there and knocked on the door but no-one came, no-one answered, so I thought “never mind. I’ll drive on”. Then all of the family were going for a meal and this meant picking up a few other people. I had to go to pick up someone at 230 again – a street in Nantwich, near The Leopard. When I pulled up at that house, it looked exactly like the description of the property that I’d been given over the phone (… by the previous guy…). When the guy came out he said “ohh yes, you’re Eric” and started to chat to me. The discussion came round about welding. I’d just been given back my MIG welder so I said “yes I can do MIG welding now. I’m going to practise when I get home”. We ended up with Liz and Terry in a big field somewhere to go sunbathing. There were quite a few people there already and it was fairly busy and there weren’t all that many places to go. Terry had a word with the owner of the field. He said “if you want to eat, you’d better go and eat now as the restaurant is really busy. There might be a table free now at 18:30 but later on there might not. One of the women with us suggested that it might be an idea to at least go down and find out about “should we eat now while we would or see if we could book a table for later. We ought at least to make sure that there would be a table later”.

So while you lot admire the fishermen on the rocks at the end of the Pointe du Roc, I carried on with a project that I’d started back in May and which had ground to a halt on 24th June.

My web pages are becoming unwieldy, especially the earlier ones. As more and more stuff has been added to them they have done a pretty good imitation of Topsy and “just growed”. So I’ve started redrafting them and cutting them up differently to make them into smaller, bite-sized pages for the truncated attention span of the MTV generation.

The ones for MY 1999 TRIP TO NEW YORK AND NEW JERSEY were done ages ago when I first started this project. Then there were a few miscellaneous ones, but then I ran aground with my trip to Canada and New England over the period of New Year 2001-2002.

But finally today, that one is finished and ALL OF THEM ARE NOW ONLINE TOO.

And that knotty web-coding problem that I had? After a good night’s sleep I resolved it in 5 minutes this morning. However it didn’t give me the result that I wanted so in the end I abandoned it for something else.

There was the usual break for lunch with more of my delicious bread and then there was work to do.

There were four extremely ripe kiwis here so I peeled them and whizzed them up to turn them into a nice runny liquidy mess. That was them filtered through my stack of filters to remove as much solid matter as I could, leaving just a kind of juice. I threw in the last of the grapes too for good measure.

Then I strained the kefir that I had brewing and put the resultant liquid in with the kiwi juice and mixed it around, leaving an inch or two in the bottle as my mother solution.

This was then strained through a fine mesh filter into two cleaned and disinfected glass bottles with stoppers where it will brew for the next 48 hours.

Last night I’d finished the blackberry pie so for a change I opened a tin of apricots and found a packet of coffee-flavoured dessert that you make with milk and it sets like a blancmange. That all went in together into four Sundae glasses and will do me until my next cookery session on Sunday.

And here is one that I made earlier, children.

No – seriously, these are the finished products. The bottles are now brewing in a dark corner of the kitchen at the side of the fridge, and the dessert is in the fridge cooling. For tea tonight I tried one of the desserts and even though I say it myself, it was delicious.

Back out for my afternoon walk of course, and straight into the action across the car park.

Our scaffolders are now back at work. The scaffolding has grown considerably since we last saw it and they have even no started to put stairs into it. This is going to be a serious job, I reckon.

And the compound has been repaired too. There’s now a shipping container in there, which is presumably going to be used as a store, and there are also a few pallets of bits and pieces. No slates yet though. I imagine that they will take a day or two to arrive, presumably after the scaffolding is finished.

Just for a change, the sun was out today, and that made a pleasant change from just recently.

It wasn’t particularly bright over here where I was, but across the bay on the promenade at St Martin de Bréhal it was really lighting up the area and making it all look so beautiful. I bet that it must have been really nice to have been out there in all of this.

In that direction you could see for miles too. The big wind turbine on the way out to Cerences is clearly visible on the range of hills on the horizon. It’s not every day that you see that too.

We’ve seen all of the fishermen in the harbour and those fishermen on the rocks, and the fishermen in the small boats seem to be back out again now that the weather has calmed down.

In the usual place amongst the rocks on the northern side of the Pointe du Roc we have three fishermen in a zodiac casting their rods into the water after, I presume, the sea-bass that is said to swim around here in these waters. I say that carefully, because in all the time we’ve been watching the fishermen, we’ve yet to actually see anyone catch anything.

There were quite a few pedestrians around here and I became embroiled in a lively chat with a very pleasant young lady who was aged about 4, I reckon. She had quite a lot to say for herself.

One thing that surprised me was that there was nothing much going on right out at sea today. No trawlers or freighters or anything like that – after all, the trawler men were queueing up to get into port right now.

But the good weather had certainly brought out the pleasure-boat men in their dozens today. There were yachts everywhere, including this rather beautiful one scudding along in the wind and going around the headland.

The purple sail was making a beautiful reflection in the water and it was a shame that the water wasn’t calmer.

Still the two usual suspects in the chantier navale so I ignored them and carried on home to finish off the web site work that I’d been doing.

Just as I was completing everything, Rosemary rang for a chat so we were on the ‘phone for an hour or so putting the world to rights. And then the hour on the guitar.

It was quite depressing mainly because I could not summon up the enthusiasm yet again. But I perked up a little towards the end when I tried to work out the chords to Steve Harley’s beautiful RIDING THE WAVES.

And it’s not as easy as you might think either, especially as in order to be able to sing it, I have to go down to a different key and then I lose my place.

For tea, I made an aubergine and kidney bean whatsit. I’ve run out in the freezer, as I discovered when I did an inventory the other day. And my pudding as I mentioned.

There was some excitement tonight out there as well.

This photo might not look much but it is in fact the air-sea rescue helicopter that we’ve seen on several occasions carrying out an air-sea search with its floodlight. I’ve no idea why but doubtless I’ll find out tomorrow in the newspaper, if it’s anything serious.

So four runs tonight. No wonder I was exhausted when I returned home to write out my notes.

Shopping tomorrow and there’s quite a list too. I don’t know how I’m going to carry it all home so I’d better be on top form. A good shower will probably do me some good.

Nevertheless it’s a long walk there, and an even longer one back when I’m loaded up.

Monday 2nd October 2017 – THAT WAS A NIGHTMARE!

Yes – I’ll tell you what was (and where it was too in due course).

But starting off, I had a really good night’s sleep in the hotel last night. Didn’t feel a thing at all.

and I was up reasonably early, did a pile of paperwork, had breakfast and a good shower too. Fit for absolutely anything.

And I needed to be, too. Because today is going to be the most difficult day of the journey. I knew that, and so I cannot say that I was unprepared for the events that were to unfold.

Having picked up some fuel, because by now Strider was running on fumes, we drove north up the island.

As I said yesterday, the Outer Banks (because I suppose that these are really still the Outer Banks around here) are in a perpetual state of flux and continually moving about.

A lot of work is needed to stabilise them, and here are three bulldozers hard at work moving the sand around

Back on the mainland I took a little diversion so that I could send you all Greetings From Asbury Park NJ.

It’s a little-known fact that when Brute Stringbean left the E-Street Band, they signed up one of the singers from ABBA to replace him.

He came over to the USA specifically to take up the role, and their first single was entitled “Bjorn in the USA”. You can’t say that you aren’t learning a lot by reading this rubbish.

As for Asbury Park itself, you need to have a good imagination of how this place must have been during the boom years of the 1920s and 1950s.

In those heady days the whole New Jersey Coast was the playground of New York City, but unfortunately they are long-gone and the town is just sitting here slowly decaying.

Today, it’s just really a shadow of its former self.

That is of course not to say that there aren’t any signs of opulence around the place these days.

The north side of the town seems to be very popular with the Upper Crust and there’s still plenty of evidence of wealth about.

And I for one would live in a house like this in a heartbeat. But I reckon that the entire readership of this rubbish couldn’t afford it even if we pooled all of our resources.

My journey up the New Jersey coast took me as far as the Highlands – and you can see why it is so named.

I mentioned the moving sand dunes of the Outer Banks – they are continually moving north and over the passage of time have isolated the cliffs of the former coastline from the shore.

The view from up there is quite impressive too, but we’ve seen it all before.

And so we hit the New Jersey Turnpike at Perth-Amboy, and we pay our … gulp … $15:00.

It’s 11:00 exactly, and you’ll need to make a note of the time because it’s quite an important feature in our story.

And you’ll also need to make a note of the traffic too. I’ve been keeping away from the heavy traffic as I travel north, as you know if you have been following this rubbish. But around New Jersey and New York there is no realistic option.

The best views of New York City that it is possible to have are from the Upper Deck of the Verrazano Bridge across the mouth of the Hudson River.

Unfortunately there’s no scenic turn-off (or scenic turn-on) to stop and admire the view and so the only way to appreciate it is to take an oblique photograph from Strider’s side window in the heavy traffic.

Unfortunately Strawberry Moose is not the best at photography. He needs to work on his technique.

It’s impossible to get onto the Belt Parkway. The queue was so long that I had gone way past the end of the queue before I saw the sign for the turn-off.

That meant hat I had to come off at Hamilton Parkway and fight my way through Brooklyn, which was not part of the plan, and rejoin the Belt Parkway at Queen’s.

This part of Brooklyn is “Chinatown” as you can tell by the signs on the walls and the people in the street.

Nose-to-tail all the way through Brooklyn and Queen’s. At least I console myself in that the Belt Parkway is exactly the same and it wouldn’t have been any quicker.

It gives me plenty of opportunity to admire the scenery as we pass through the city anyway. I’ve never been here before, and I’m probably never ever going to be here again.

And pressing on, I resist the temptation to pay a visit to Coney island just down the road. I’ll be stuck for ever

Having conquered Europe a good 45 years ago, it’s good to see the Ford Transit going on to conquer North America/

Both models are available here now – the “mini” and the normal Caliburn-sized one, and you can see just how much they are infiltrating the North American market.

They are even conquering the lucrative “school bus” market, and if that’s not a sign of official acceptance I don’t know what is.

I finally burst out of New York City onto the Belt Parkway at 13:30 – and that was the longest two and a half hours of my life, I’ll tell you that (or so I thought to myself at the time).

One of the suburban State parks looms up on the right and so that’s a convenient place to stop for lunch. Not only have there been difficulties with the traffic, it’s been piping hot too under the hot sun and i’m ready for a break.

Back on the road, first thing that happens is that we hit a “fender-bender”. And then the road works. And more road works.

I have to stop for fuel by now – (that means that I’ve travelled just 210 kilometres since I set off this morning). And then back in a long, depressing traffic jam that never ends.

I finally pull into Port Jefferson at 17:20.

At my lunch stop, The Lady Who Lives In The Sat-Nav told me that we were just 46 minutes away from here. And so Ihad timed it.

It had taken us almost three hours to drive this final leg of the distance, what with all of the difficulties that we had encountered. And I was thoroughly, completely and absolutely fed up.

I had even begun to wonder whether or not it might have been quicker to have stayed on Interstate 95 and fought my way through New York City after all.

No prizes for guessing why I’ve come to Port Jefferson, is there?

By pure coincidence and totally by accident … “of course” – ed … there’s a ferry that goes from here across Long Island Sound to Bridgeport in Connecticut.

This is going to be my lest ferry crossing of my voyage (Bar Harbor to Yarmouth is pushing the boat out a little too far, I reckon) and so I need to make the most of it.

And at about 18:15 we set off on the P T Barnum for Bridgeport in Connecticut.

And the name of the ship is certainly appropriate, considering the circus that we have been through in order to arrive here.

I was hoping to have been on the other side and halfway up the road to Boston by now instead of being on the ferry in the doom and gloom.

But doom and gloom is completely inappropriate considering the glorious sunset.

I mentioned earlier that it had been a hot day, and you probably noticed from the earlier photos just how clear and blue the skies had been

We were now being treated to one of the most beautiful sunsets that I reckon that I have ever seen. It was totally magnificent out here on Long Island Sound

There are two ships that ply this particular route across Long Island Sound.

The P T Barnum has a sister ship, whose name I had forgotten to note, and we encountered her in the middle of Long Island Sound doing the trip in the reverse direction.

Silhouetted in the splendid sunset like this, she looks quite spellbinding too. We were having our money’s worth out here.

And so we battened down the hatches for silent running and sailed off into the sunset.

Red Sky At Night might mean Shepherd’s Delight in the UK, but here on Long Island Sound, Red Sky At Night means that there are riots in New York City and they are burning the place down to the ground.

But tat’s not to say that we can’t admire the view as the sun disappears down below the horizon, can we?

And so Bridgeport, our destination, looms up out of the gloom. I’ve never set foot in Connecticut before now, and so that’s about to be put right.

The crossing itself was like a millpond. I’ve never been over such a tranquil sea in my whole life. There wasn’t a single wave to talk about.

But it was an expensive crossing, make no mistake. 90 or so minutes, and 19 miles, I believe. Just like the English Channel. And it cost me (and Strider) a walk-on fare of a massive and astonishing … errr … $57:00.

The P T Barnum is obliged to do a U-turn in her own length here in the river so that we can dock and drive off forwards,

And much to my surprise, I’m the second vehicle off the ferry. I’m not used to that!

Just at the back of the harbour is a big bridge over which Interstate 95 passes. And that’s the road that will take me all the way home as far as the USA border and it’s a drive of about seven and a half hours.

But I’m not doing that tonight – I’ll tell you. I’m thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly fed up (but then I was expecting this today. There was no other solution).

A sign looms up at the side of the Interstate – “Motel 6 next exit”. They’ve gone upmarket and expensive this last few years but I’m tired and fed up and want to stop.

They have a room too – for just $90:00 including taxes which is not too unreasonable either. I’ve had worse. But what is unreasonable is that their computer is down, everything is being done by hand and I have to pay cash.

I now have $5:00 to last me to the US border and Canada but I’m beyond caring. It’s 20:00 and well past my bedtime.

And so I bite the bullet, pay up, find my room and crash out.

ZZZZZZZZ.

Sunday 1st October 2017 – I WAS RIGHT …

… about last night’s sleep.

Still wide awake at 02:00 not being able to sleep

But I must have gone off to sleep at some point because the alarms did go off to awaken me at 05:00 – and again at 05:15.

Nevertheless I did manage to bring the paperwork up to date (well, sort of) and do a few other things before leaving the motel. But there was no coffee, which was rather disappointing, to say the least.

It was a cloudy day when I sat off, but I didn’t go far because there was a Food Lion just down the road. That called for some bread and some orange juice (although I forgot the orange juice).

And once more, when I said that I didn’t have a fidelity card, the girl at the checkout said that she loved my accent and gave me the discount anyway, which was nice.

After about half an hour of life on the road I came to to the Virginia – Maryland State Line.

I’d blinked and missed it on the way down as you might remember, and so I made sure that I stopped here on the way back up just to take a photograph.

And they had no coffee in the welcome centre either, which was even more of a disappointment. They are missing out on loads of commercial opportunities here in the Capitalist USA.

I must have missed the Delaware State Line somewhere, and I’m not sure how. But when I hit this enormous traffic queue somewhere near Laurel I noticed that all of the number plates were Delaware plates.

But never mind the licence plates, just look at the queue. And I’ve no idea why there would be a queue here either because there’s nothing particular to hold up the traffic.

A sudden downpour of rain didn’t help matters much either.

But there were a few cars here that caught my attention.

It looks as if there had been some kind of hotrod contention and there were dozens of cars in the queue that looked as if they had been heavily modified.

This VW on the trailer was one example – and looking at how the suspension has been arranged, it’s no surprise that they had to trailer it away.

All of the others that I saw were however running on the road (although I’m not sure how, given how they were all set up).

But had I not been in a hurry, I could have stayed around here for a while. I saw a kids football match – only the second one that I would have seen in North America, and on several occasions there were old vehicles at the side of the road that I would ordinarily stopped to photograph.

Nevertheless, I did stop for two minutes at the local bank to withdraw some cash. My supply of American cash has started to dwindle down almost to nothing.

But having missed the entry sign for Delaware, I take the opportunity to photograph a suitable convenient sign just to prove that I did make it here.

It’s the second-smallest State in the USA, with only Rhode Island being smaller. Quite easy to blink and miss in fact, at about 2,500 square miles.

But I bet that you are wondering why I’m actually in Lewes, and what this sign is all about.

The answer to that is quite simple. They have long-distance thru-way ferries in Delaware too.

And so I turned up at the ferry terminal, which was pretty crowded. No room on the 13:45 ferry but there was a place on the 14:45 so I took that.

It saves a long, winding trip through all of the traffic around Wilmington, Philadelphia and Camden

There were clearly a few people who didn’t turn up for their booking on the 13:45 because a few of us early arrivals were passed forward. And that’s good news.

An 18-mile crossing, taking 95 minutes, and all for $37:00 too. And in the Capitalist USA too.

Does anyone get the feeling that someone is taking the Mickey out of the British Cross-Channel ferry passengers? How much would you you have to pay for a crossing like this across the English Channel?

The mouth of the Delaware River is an absolute Paradise for ship-spotters too. Well worth the price of admission just for that alone.

I counted about a dozen out here either heading upriver or downriver and while I couldn’t read their names, I could still photograph them with the telephoto lens.

Here’s a couple of them to be going on with

I didn’t have time to take a photograph of my ferry – the “New Jersey” – but instead I can show you a photo of her sister travelling the other way.

There are three of them apparently and run every hour during the day at this time of year.

It’s a comparatively modern service too. Despite having been first proposed a long, long, time ago, it was only set up about 50 years ago, which is a surprise, seeing how many miles and how much time it saves.

While you admire the New Jersey Shore and Cape May in particular, I can tell yuo somethign exciting about the ferry.

Having missed out on my coffee so far this morning, it seems that on board, you pay $1:95 and you can have as many mugs of coffee as you like.

And as I’m sure that you might have guessed, I took full advantage of this opportunity – even taking one with me in Strider.

So here we are, just pulling in to the ferry terminal at Cape May, New Jersey. From here, it involves heading north-eastward sup the New Jersey coast.

I was planning to stop for the night at Atlantic City with the casinos and the glitter, but with me running an hour early, I was quite well ahead of myself;

It’s my policy not to stop until 18:00 hours unless an irresistible opportunity presents itself or I’m feeling ths strain, so I pushed on.

One thing that I did want to do was to visit Long Beach Island – scene of my triumphs back in 1999.

I was looking for the motel where I stayed back then and although I found the site, it’s not there now – the ground’s all flat.

That’s a shame, for I had had a really good time there. And there are many other motels that merit” removal” well before this one did.

I ended up at Seaside Heights as 18:00 ticked over. Full of motels but for some unknown reason, no-one was about at all.

In the end, I managed to persuade the proprietor of the Sea Palace Inn to open his doors, having agreed on a very reasonable $68:00.

No complaints with that – seeing as there’s a fridge and a microwave. A few potatoes and a tin of chili beans went down well for tea.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I’VE BEEN HERE BEFORE – and back in 1999 too – on one of my very early forays into North America.

However I didn’t remember all that much about it. I wasn’t as sophisticated and prepared in those days, with a dictaphone and a digital camera, and so I was keen to have a look around, even though it was dark.

That was one of the reasons why I had come here this evening. Another reason being, of course, that my motel from 1999 had been demolished.

My notes in those days were non-existent and relying on my memory is a pretty pointless exercise these days, so I have to say that I didn’t recognise anywhere at all

The dark didn’t help very much in stimulating a visual trigger, but it had its compensations because everywhere always looks so much nicer in the dark when the lighting can bring out some spectacular effects

And the big ferris wheel in the background – that was one of the things that I’d noticed on a photograph that I’d taken back in those days

But anyway, I continued on with my stroll along the boardwalk.

One thing about the Atlantic coast of the USA (I’ve never visited the Pacific) is the beaches. The sand is really nice and looks so good, even in the pitch-black.

Anyway, after a good while and a good wander, I ended up back at my motel. In the words of Maréchal Macmahon, j’y suis, j’y reste – at least until tomorrow morning when I shall be hitting the road.

There’s still a long way to go.

Saturday 30th September 2017 – AS I MIGHT HAVE SAID …

… the other day, North Carolina is a ferry-spotter’s paradise.

We haven’t finished with them yet by any means, because now that we are on Ocracoke Island, we still have to get off.

There is more than one way to skin a cat, and one of the ways is to take the ferry over to Cape Hatteras. We’ve done that before, but so what?

While you admire the photo of my little home-from-home, let me tell you about my night.

I was dead to the world, that’s for sure, and our first nocturnal visitor was Michel from the football club – telling me everything that had gone wrong at the football club – just like he had done once in te Auchan in Montlucon.

As for our next visitor, it was either Nerina, Laurence or Cécile.And we were in my house, or whatever house that it was where I was living. It was up forsale although you would never have thought so with the mess – and someone came to see it. It was Christiane (what is she doing here?). My partner showed her round the ground floor and abandoned me to leave me to show her around the cluttered upstairs, even though I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I took her outside and showed her the jungle that was the grounds. She said that the car parking didn’t correspond to what she needed, so I showed her my idea which would have suited her – except that I kept on getting it wrong when I was trying to explain. After she had left I was sitting in the garden when my Inuit guide from Mulligan came in. He had a chain saw and began to cut up logs lengthways ready to sut them “across”. I was thinking to myself that I could do that, and there were plenty of other things that he would have been more profitably employed in doing.

My porridge didn’t take long to cook in the slow cooker, and I was away pretty smartish by 09:15, complete with free coffee from the motel.

A leisurely drive took me down to the far end of the island where I didn’t have to wait too long for a ferry.

You don’t here, by the way. There’s a regular shuttle service and there’s quite a rapid service, especially at this time of the year.

Had I come by here tomorrow, it would have been a different matter because they are going over to the winter timetable.

One thing that takes some getting used to is the route that the ferry takes.

This distance between Hatteras and Ocracoke island doesn’t look very much, but it takes 40 minutes to do the route, because you have to go in a rather exaggerated “S” route between the islands.

The channels across Pamlico Sound are quite shallow and despite the low draught of these boats, they can still easily run aground if they get it wrong.

The channel is marked for the entire length with marker buoys and signs, like these just here.

You can’t see for the sun unfortunately, but the buoys are marked red and green, for “port” and “starboard” just like a ship’s lights, but I was convinced that on occasion the ferry was passing to the wrong side.

But the channel and the sandbanks change after each storm so that’s not a surprise.

A wonderful bird is the pelican,
His bill will hold more than his belican,
He can take in his beak
Enough food for a week
But I’m damned if I see how the helican.

and what does a pelican have in common with an Income-Tax Collector?
Well, they can bot shove their bills up their @r$e$

Only seven or so cars on the ferry so it didn’t take long to unload. And we were soon belting off northwards up Hatteras Island.

The village of Hatteras itself is quite pretty and probably well-worth a poke around on another occasion, but i don’t have that much time.

I want to be north of Chesapeake Bay by tonight and it’s a long way to go.

We do have to stop at some point because even though we’ve seen it before, we have to go to look at Cape Hatteras Lighthouse.

It’s the most famous construction on the whole of the Outer Banks.

Mind you, the Outer Banks just here are quite famous if you are a mariner. Not for nothing is Cape Hatteras known as “The Graveyard Of The Atlantic” with the amount of ships that have come to grief here.

The lighthouse didn’t used to be back there. Until 1999 it was just in front of where this sign is.

You can see from the sign how the sea level has risen over the last 140 years, which prompted the romoval of the lighthouse to a safer spot.

But even though it’s so graphically laid out here, the USA Government still denies the existence of global warming and rising sea levels.

Yes, the official position of the US President is to deny clmate change, global warming and rising sea levels. Yet here on Hatteras Island the evidence is impossible to ignore.

Everywhere are signs “water on highway” and despite the absence of rain and strong winds, you can see that the sea is slowly encroaching onto the roadway.

This will all be under water in 10 years or so.

We’ve been here before of course, and I reckoned that I would show you a photo once more of Rodanthe.

It’s significant because a couple of years after I had been here in 2005, they made a film set in Rodanthe.

And much to my surprise it really was filmed here too.

And the film seems to have brought unlimited tourists to visit the area, and with it the tourist attractions.

My memory of Rodanthe was that it was a quiet, sleepy place with a few tumbledown cabins and houses.

Not any more though. The tourists are out in force and have brought wads of cash with them. So the developers have cashed in.

Here’s something else that is changing so dramatically too.

The Herbert C Bonner bridge was a quiet, sleepy bridge when we came by here in 2005.

Today, as the sea levels are rising, the bridge approaches are slowly being submerged and so they are constructing this huge mega-bridge right across Oregon Sound with its several miles of raised causeway approaches.

Not that it will do them much good because the rest of the Outer Banks will shortly be under water as we have seen.

From here, I don’t hang about. We miss out the Wright Brothers site at Kill Devil Hills (not Kittyhawk) just up the road because we have been there before, and eventually come off onto the mainland where I stop for lunch and fuel at, coincidentally,the same petrol station where I stopped in 2005.

But out haste doesn’t prevent us from yet another photo opportunity, does it?

This area is well-known for its pirate and privateer activity, and so Strawberry Moose decides to get in on the action.

Finding a suitable boat, he now tries to find a suitable crew, or else he will be all at sea.

We cross into Virginia just after here, and enter the city of Norfolk. And Norfolk is a nightmare to navigate.

There are two ways to go north – one is the I-95 and sit in traffic queues in Washington DC and Baltimore all day, or else cross Chesapeake Bay and cross the Delaware River and follow the New Jersey Coast.

But the Bay crossing in Norfolk, despite being one of the most famous in the whole of North America, is so badly signposted it’s unbelievable.

You drive around for hours down a succession of small street and eventually you see a small one-foot square blue-and-white sign.

Blink and you miss it.

Unfortunately, you can’t see it very well because there is nowhere to stop and photograph it.

For a start, it’s 23 miles long, 17 miles of which is across water, and if that’s not something of a record I’m not sure what is.

And not only that, it shortens my route by 153 kms, so the toll fee of $13:00 is a bargain when you take the cost of Strider’s fuel into consideration.

It’s not just a bridge either.

It crosses a busy shipping lane up to Baltimore and so in a couple of places it dives into tunnels. And these are quite long enough on their own.

And that was quite a shame because there were three or four mammoth container ships sailing up the Hampton Roads and I missed them.

On the other side of the river I put my foot down and move north towards the Maryland border.

But 18:00 looms up, I’m tired and I’m still in Virgnia. And at 18:10 the Shore Lodge Motel in Olney looms up out of the gloom.

The room is clean and comfortable and after much negotiating we agree on $70:00, incuding taxes, which is not unreasonable.

I do without tea yet again and crash out more-or-less straight away, but I’m awoken by a group of people chatting by the ice machine just outside the door.

After about a couple of hours of this, I’m beyond fed up, so I ask them if they wouldn’t mind going somewhere else to chat. Well, that wasn’t actually what I said, but it meant that.

But my sleep has gone now, and this is going to be a bad night.

Tuesday 26th September 2017 – OLD, TIRED AND CHEAP

But that’s enough about me. Let’s talk about my living accommodation.

As I mentioned yesterday, there’s a sea view “of sorts”. It’s not the best sea view by any means, but we have had worse than this and I’m not complaining.

The bed is super-comfortable – the sleeping issues that I’m having are due to me and not the bed – and the place is relatively clean even though it’s old and tired.

My neighbours are a little unruly, but you can’t have everything, and I’ve had much worse neighbours than those too.

Out at the back, which is actually the front of the little apartment, there’s a view over the street and the neighbouring hotel complexes.

Every hotel complex has its little private swimming pool (that’s next door’s just there) and terrace, although our terrace isn’t much at all to write home about.

But when the beach is 20 yards away, does it really matter?

And so this morning I was up with the cock and attacked the paperwork – well, sort-of anyway. And followed that with a nice shower and breakfast.

But I was obliged to bin the bread and the soya milk, and my razor has had it and I’ve run out of smelly stuff so a trip to the Food Lion – a Delhaize company with the same logo – was indicated.

The receptionist gave me directions, and made it sound like 10 miles away. So I went in Strider, only to find that it was less than half a mile away. I could have walked it.

But one of the shops here is having an offer that is absolutely irresistible. I bet that not many people would turn this down.

A free hermit crab with Woman Police Constable.

But I forgot to mention the usual Myrtle Beach issues.

Last time I was in Myrtle Beach, I witnessed what would only be called an “aggressive arrest” in the motel where I was staying.

Today, I popped outside, and there was another member of the farces of law and order visiting my accommodation.

And that’s not the best of it. I’d only been here about 18 hours and they had a pest control company in. “Termites” so I was told, but I don’t believe them.

Lunchtime was a visit to the beach with my butties.

I said before that it’s claimed to be the most beautiful beach on the Eastern Seaboard, and while I don’t agree with that, I’ve seen much worse.

The waves are quite impressive though, and the kids here were having a tremendous amount of fun.

But here’s a thing. Alison and I used to work for an American company in Brussels and we had a colleague who had married an American guy who had brought her here for their honeymoon.

She used to rave about how beautiful the place was, never thinking that anyone from Belgium would ever have visited here.

When I showed her my photos from 2005, she never ever said a subsequent word about the place.

Back here, I crashed out yet again, and was once more gone for hours. It was a good decision to go for three nights instead of two. I was hoping that I might have been able to make it out to the Outer Banks or something for a couple of days, but with my state of health I need to be realistic.

If I’m feeling up to it, I might stop off in New Jersey for a night or two. There’s always … gulp … Atlantic City.

I remembered to make tea tonight, pasta with kidney beans, tomato sauce and vegetables. And there’s enough left over for tomorrow too.

And then I went for a walk and, much to my delight, I found an ice-cream parlour just across the road that sold vegan sorbets. $4:99 for two scoops and seeing as this is the USA, they were person-sized scoops too.

They needed a mini-digger for them.

And then I saw it – the world’s first pantomime door.

This called for a photo opportunity for Strawberry Moose so I went back to Strider and fetched him.

And on the way there and back, he met a good many future fans who were pleased to make his acquaintance.

So now it’s bed-time. Not too early but then I’m not planning on doing too much tomorrow. A nice leisurely day before hitting the road on Thursday.

Friday 22nd September 2017 – THAT WAS HORRENDOUS!

Interstate 81 looked so inviting on the map.

Running through open country and the Blue Ridge Mountains (of Virginia and elsewhere) and not passing anywhere near any major centres pf population.

And how wrong I was!

For a start, it was heaving with traffic. Just like the M6 around Birmingham on a late Friday afternoon – with the exception that it has just two lanes each side and not three.

Secondly, it was one continual set of roadworks from start to finish. We crawled from hold-up to hold-up all the way from Upstate New York to Central Virginia.

Another thing is the traffic. Speed limits are 65 mph in some places and 55 mph in other places. And with the speedo in Strider being in kilometres, I converted the SatNav to imperial measurements and set the cruise control in accordance with the read-out.

And that is a suicidal thing to do – because no-one else obeys the speed limits even with the whole mess of Tijuana Taxis and unmarked speed control cars handing out loads of tickets all down the Interstate.

I had lorries, trucks, pickups and everything wedged up behind Strider crammed in with the traffic waiting for a moment to overtake.

Last night in the Rodeway Motel was one of the most comfortable nights that I’ve had for a while.

Despite the cheapness of the place, it was excellent value for money, complete with microwave and fridge. I’ll stop there again, that’s for sure.

I’d been on my travels too, but not very pleasant ones unfortunately. I was in Strider when I had a head-on collision with a lorry. Strider wasn’t very badly damaged as he had “gone underneath” but I felt that I could have avoided the accident if I had exerted myself. Furthermore, we were driving on the left as in the UK, but it was for some reason clearly the other driver’s fault, although I’ve no idea why.

It was 09:30 when I hit the road, exactly as planned, and decanted myself more-or less straight away into the traffic.

I stopped for the usual reasons and to pick up a coffee, and again at Frackville in Pennsylvania for fuel and a lettuce. But finding a food store was something – I must have driven up every street in the town.

But yes, Pennsylvania. I made it into here just before midday.

Mind you, that’s not such a big deal because we’ve been here before – twice in fact. Once in 2010 but once previously on a quick in-and-out over the new year of 1999/2000 when I was staying on Long Beach Island in New Jersey.

But at least I put my feet on the soil this time, because I found a nice motorway Service Area where I sat in the sun for an hour.

I blinked and missed Maryland, but I did manage to take a photo of West Virginia.

I’ve certainly never been here before and so I was grateful that Strawberry Moose was able to take a photograph.

But I didn’t manage to put my feet on the soil here – that will have to be for another time, if there is one.

I dunno.

I was otherwise preoccupied with traffic when I crossed over into Virginia, but I’ve been here before too, on my trip in 2005.

As it started to grow dark, I spied a motel with rooms at reasonable prices.

I’ve stayed at Motel Sixes before now and they are quite good, and I was lucky here because I had the last room. It was a smoking room but I was past caring by now.

Here it Mount Jackson we are at more-or-less halfway, give or take 50 miles, so I was glad to stop for a rest and a stretch.

But the road through the mountains is beautiful, and we passed by loadsof names that I recognised, such as Gettysburg, Antietam and the like.

How I would have liked to go for a visit but I’m a Man on a Mission and I can’t stop.

And tomorrow, I’ll be back on the road.

EPIC HALL

The Poisoned Pen (or Poisoned Chalice, more like) – or my relentless struggle against reality

Tag Archives: new jersey

Wednesday 14th October 2020 – IT LOOKS AS IF …

Monday 2nd October 2017 – THAT WAS A NIGHTMARE!

Sunday 1st October 2017 – I WAS RIGHT …

Saturday 30th September 2017 – AS I MIGHT HAVE SAID …

Tuesday 26th September 2017 – OLD, TIRED AND CHEAP

Friday 22nd September 2017 – THAT WAS HORRENDOUS!

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