This is an entry from my personal journal of last year, but it addresses the issue of getting away on your own, perhaps even vacationing, when your family and friends are not available to accompany you.
The experiment...a day trip by myself.
The 495 was fine but then Mark (GPS) took me off on route 3, that familiar trip to Burlington. Haven't done that since Graeme died. Of course we ended up on rte 128. I should have checked the route before I started, but still I got to Salem by 11:00 am. I ignored Mark and parked in a car park I remembered, at museum Place. First annoyance, wrestling with the prepay parking machine. Why does each town have a different system?
After fumbling around, keeping people waiting, I headed for the Museum, where I got confused about the admission so didn't pick up a ticket for the Chinese House. This is when you realize you are on your own. Since I can remember the visit to the House with Graeme so well, it was probably better for my state of mind to just browse the galleries. The Asian galleries are stunning but Ansel Adams was the Museum's feature artist. His photographs are amazing. I would not care to judge his status as greatest photographer, but he put himself in the middle of the most outstanding scenery. He must have loved to hike and climb. Even in black and white his water is real. Geysers, waterfalls, foam. At the Water's Edge you could almost get wet!
I ate a sandwich at the Atrium. Thank god for mustard! The raspberry tea was good. Then I was struck by the incessant noise. There was a reception going on with a constant clacking of heels on the stone floor, banging of doors, and museum staff emerging so fast they could knock you down. I think this is what you notice when you are alone.
I wandered around a little more, checked the museum shop, hmm, and left. Outside I checked the town map, memorized the address of a parking garage down on the water front so I could program the GPS and wandered down through the market stalls, displaying their tourist gimmicks, until I realized I couldn't get back to my car that way. I was getting hot. Why hadn't I worn a cotton tee instead of that black blouse?
Mark steered me wrong, "turn right and you are there". Sure, on the opposite side of the road from the parking garage, with no chance of getting the car across. Keeping straight ahead, rather than turning right, would have got me to the entrance to the car park. Grr, now I had to find somewhere to park off a really busy street. I found some meter parking so tightly packed that I missed seeing a low bollard between spaces and crunched my wheel arch. OK, now I was angry as well as hot and I only had a couple of quarters, so time there was going to be limited. Nevertheless I rushed towards South Harbour for at least an opportunity to try my new camera. By now my knees were troubling me and I wished my sensible shoes didn't retain the heat. I returned to the car and decided to return home. I had been in Salem no time at all!
Then I got into it with Mark. "After 300 yards" means nothing to me, so we spent 10 minutes hauling me out of one housing estate after another! Still we made it home.
I was pleased that I did this, but if I take a day trip again it will be to somewhere where I can park and forget the car. Salem is just incredibly noisy and the roadworks during tourist season ridiculous! It wasn't a good choice, especially as I really wanted to see the sea and all I got was an inlet Harbour.
One year later I have yet to try vacationing alone, but I do have a new knee.
The humming birds have left and, as if in defiance, the Morning Glory has started to bloom. The mornings start cool. Sometimes the days stay cool, sometimes they reach summer temperatures. Autumn is upon us and the glorious colours are on their way.
