The hotel was quite the retro dumpy experience. After showers, shaving, etc. we were disappointed to find only old pathetic coffee in tiny styrofoam cups. We packed our bags back into the xterra, this time via the back seat, as the rear lid was blocked by our bikes, and beat a hasty retreat.
We pulled off in a place called Weedsport, to seek breakfast. Being the Sunday before labor day, it was really quiet. We stopped at Arnold's Family Restaurant, and had a normative diner breakfast. However, the table where we were sitting was right under the HVAC system which was emitting some sort of ultra low frequency vibrations which made us all want to leave as soon as we could.
After a small eternity of dreary driving through upstate New York, we finally made it to Niagra Falls. As we approached the city we could see the mist rising from the center the city, even form a couple of miles, or so, away. It looked like a massive radiator or boiler malfunction. Allegedly the native american word Niagra means noisy river, or noisy water, heap big noise, or something like that. It certainly seemed apropos.
Being that it was Labor Day weekend, the place was packed. Awash with tourists, immigrants, and all the rest of the Great American Melting Pot, it was still quite a spectacle. We did not opt to stand in line for hours and wear little blue or yellow raincoats, but settled for the more distant, and pedestrian experience. We still got a little wet though. Check out the video...
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Departure.
Poor Zoe, playing the role of the dog on this trip, had to stay the night in the car, but the next morning Lily appeared, and let her into the basement of the inn. Thanks to both Lily and Elizabeth, 
a fine breakfast was provided. We went back to Edwards Street, cleaned the apartment, got our deposit back, and settled up with Matt. We packed the XTerra with our bags; clothes and toiletries we would need while traveling, a vacuum cleaner and some tools, so we could clean and set up our new home on arrival, a few small items that hadn't been packed, like the pimp cup and my sword. With the sculling oars tied to the roof rack, in an aerodynamic sort of way, and our three bikes hanging on for dear life by the bike rack on the back, we were configured for the next two weeks of travel, and by evening we were on our way.
We stopped for our final New Haven area dinner at the Hamden Taco Bell, and used their WiFi and our MacBook to make a reservation at the
dumpiest motel we could find in Syracuse, New York. As we rolled through western Mass., it started to drizzle. We got to the motel shortly before midnight, and were easily able to sneak Zoe into the room.
a fine breakfast was provided. We went back to Edwards Street, cleaned the apartment, got our deposit back, and settled up with Matt. We packed the XTerra with our bags; clothes and toiletries we would need while traveling, a vacuum cleaner and some tools, so we could clean and set up our new home on arrival, a few small items that hadn't been packed, like the pimp cup and my sword. With the sculling oars tied to the roof rack, in an aerodynamic sort of way, and our three bikes hanging on for dear life by the bike rack on the back, we were configured for the next two weeks of travel, and by evening we were on our way.We stopped for our final New Haven area dinner at the Hamden Taco Bell, and used their WiFi and our MacBook to make a reservation at the
dumpiest motel we could find in Syracuse, New York. As we rolled through western Mass., it started to drizzle. We got to the motel shortly before midnight, and were easily able to sneak Zoe into the room.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Moving Day
The entire trip portion of this blog is not much of a chronicle, as I really haven't had the time to chronicle events as they unfolded. Not much of a reporter, I, but things are as they are. Thanks, however, to the flexibility of blogspot, I can post-date these entries and make this blog appear to actually be a blog. I'm actually writing this on 2008 Oct 9, but, hey, if Steve Jobs can back date his stock options, I can back date my blog entries.
So... Moving Day, 2008 August 29th; now the journey really gets under way. We already had over three times the number of boxes we had estimated. I had figured 50 banana boxes. We had 173 boxes of varying sizes, most of them banana boxes or bigger. So, I called ahead and warned the movers.
The guys arrived at 9:30 or so with two trucks and proceeded to stuff our stuff into their, apparently, rented trucks. At the end of the day our "stuffs" was gone, and we were left in our empty apartment with some left over pottery, an unopened watermelon, an unopened bottle of some bubbly stuff, a huge mess to clean, a few stalwart friends, my daughter, Tova, a huge moving bill, only partially paid, and neither the resources, nor the inclination to do anything.
As Lily and her friends drifted away, we cajoled Kenny and Nancy, our downstairs neighbors, into adopting the last remaining contents of our refrigerator and pantry, as well as the abandoned pottery. John and Cis showed up with a pair of sculling oars, and we sat down on a ratty old dog blanket on the deck to open the champagne and raise a toast; to being unemployed and homeless. We talked and smoked, and finally opened the watermelon with the only implement we could find; a pair of scissors. Tova provided more wine, we talked and smoked until we couldn't talk or smoke anymore. Tova and I, and then John and Cis, said our final farewells, and I carted Sheryl off to the inn, where a clean soft bed awaited us courtesy of Elizabeth, and Lily, here former loyal employee.
So... Moving Day, 2008 August 29th; now the journey really gets under way. We already had over three times the number of boxes we had estimated. I had figured 50 banana boxes. We had 173 boxes of varying sizes, most of them banana boxes or bigger. So, I called ahead and warned the movers.
The guys arrived at 9:30 or so with two trucks and proceeded to stuff our stuff into their, apparently, rented trucks. At the end of the day our "stuffs" was gone, and we were left in our empty apartment with some left over pottery, an unopened watermelon, an unopened bottle of some bubbly stuff, a huge mess to clean, a few stalwart friends, my daughter, Tova, a huge moving bill, only partially paid, and neither the resources, nor the inclination to do anything.
As Lily and her friends drifted away, we cajoled Kenny and Nancy, our downstairs neighbors, into adopting the last remaining contents of our refrigerator and pantry, as well as the abandoned pottery. John and Cis showed up with a pair of sculling oars, and we sat down on a ratty old dog blanket on the deck to open the champagne and raise a toast; to being unemployed and homeless. We talked and smoked, and finally opened the watermelon with the only implement we could find; a pair of scissors. Tova provided more wine, we talked and smoked until we couldn't talk or smoke anymore. Tova and I, and then John and Cis, said our final farewells, and I carted Sheryl off to the inn, where a clean soft bed awaited us courtesy of Elizabeth, and Lily, here former loyal employee.
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