You had 2 days off in between trips… and I threw in some Bambi pics as well. Are we good?
I admit I might have gone a little overboard with the Williamsburg, Virginia vacation photos this time…. like 3,089 pics overboard.
So sue me.
It was a fabulous trip, a marvelous Christmas and a wonderful place to explore. What can I say? When I’m old and feeble I’ll enjoy looking back on them all. (If I can remember why there are so many pictures of rocks…. and who that strange man is of course.)
Time to fasten your seat belts and loosen your pants!
The trip starts now.
Okay… but fair warning, that may not be until June.
Not wanting to put the miles and wear and tear on my car, we rented one. Well, I rented one. A mid size SUV like I always do… but when we arrived at the lot, they didn’t have any and had to upgrade us to luxury.
We could pick the Audi or the Infiniti.
So what did my husband pick?
The Chevy Suburban.
Which happens to be the biggest, thirstiest, most annoying
lumberin g behemoth vehicle ever made. A nightmare to park. A horror show for short people like me to board. A useless third row seat we didn’t need and couldn’t figure out how to fold down. Gas stations? We dreaded the mere sight of them after a few days. So why did my spouse choose it?
Because it was big.
And he’s a man.
Our trip from Maine started out like this:
With buckets of the same for the first few states.
When we were nearing Hartford, Connecticut it let up, but we hit road construction….
And this rather precarious way of shoring up of the highway made me cringe.
I guess I should be glad they didn’t use duct tape, but still.
Next up was my least favorite part of the trip….
New York City.
Don’t get me wrong, I was born and raised in New Jersey… I can hang. But riding shotgun with my (leadfooted, 2 centimeters from the car in front of us, switch lanes like it’s the Indy 500) husband…. in the Black Brontosaurus?
Would test Ironman’s nerves.
Though I can honestly say it’s the only time in my life I’m thankful for bumper to bumper traffic.
I don’t think that’s possible.
I’d post some great pics of our trip over the famous George Washington bridge, but the husband always takes the upper truck level…. so basically this was my view:
But here’s one peek through the fog.
After the bridge? It’s New Jersey…
And the swamps they built the Meadowlands on.
If you’ve ever wondered where Tony Soprano and his boys dumped the bodies?
It would be here.
Oil refineries aside, you have to admit that the foul, smoggy New Jersey air does make for a dramatic sky.
Onward through the evening we drove, with the husband choosing our route. If you know me…. you know I’m type A and like to plan. Letting him pick a spot for us to spend the night was torture, but I sucked it up and endured.
I endured him picking a random town in Delaware because he liked the name, Red Lion.
Did Red Lion, Delaware have any hotels you ask?
It did not.
And trust me, we drove around for almost an hour trying to find one even though I Googled it and came up empty. We did however find this:
A Christmas extravaganza house that was blocking traffic.
I can barely keep 2 reindeer lit… WTH?
After admitting defeat, the husband drove another 40 minutes to Dover, Delaware and pulled into the first Holiday Inn he saw.
I had my doubts when I saw the lounge was decorated in early bordello. Yes… satin furniture and rhinestone encrusted mirrors.
Thankfully our room was toned down from that…
But it did have some interesting features.
Mainly, the lighting.
Is it me?
Or did this over the bathroom sink fixture look like deer hooves?
There’s no reasonable Martha Stewart explanation for that.
And while this corner lamp reminded me of my mother and her pull down hair dryer of the 1960’s…..
It was these over the bed reading lamps that were a little too proctology/gynecology themed for my taste.
And don’t get me started on the art work.
What the…. what?
So ends day one.
(And before you start screaming Martin…. road trips with my husband consist of a McDonalds lunch eaten in the car doing 90 mph and a perfectly horrible turkey dinner at a Bob Evans next to the hotel late that night. Neither were photo worthy!)