Impressions Gleaned from a Bus Journey through Autumn New England.
As indicated in blog post 57, “The Village of Mystic”, Pieter and I had long wanted to plan a trip there together, a trip which we finally realised in September/October 2007. While the main aim of this trip was to explore my past, we were also very keen to travel through Connecticut and the surrounding states of New England and to be able to view them in autumn, or, as the Americans say, in “the fall”. The colours at this time of the year in New England can be breathtaking and, thankfully, they did not disappoint.
Before embarking on this bus journey, we had allowed ourselves a couple of days in New York City, both to recuperate from the flights and the time difference and to get a feel for the city itself. Having pre- purchased local bus passes which enabled us to criss-cross Manhattan, we felt that we were able to get the best overall impression that we could in the two days available and, as a bonus, we also felt that we were a part of the local street theatre. We had never imagined that we could experience so much drama and get such an insight into the New York psyche. I must note that this took place in 2007 and we have no idea how it would compare to the New York City of today.
There were NYPD cars all over the City. Lights were flashing, sirens going and Secret Service men and women were sticking their heads out of black, mafia style wagons, following the longest limousines we had ever seen. Also, fire engines, always with an American flag on the back. We did learn, however, that the UN was in session at that time, which would certainly have added to the level of activity. In short, there was no end of drama. However, we did not find this frightening, only entertaining.
Before I embark on the main topic of this blog post, the bus journey through New England, I would just like to explain that I could never have been able to recall the level of detail given here (given that it was almost exactly 17 years ago) but for the fact that I kept a (very haphazard) diary and also sent some lengthy emails to my family, who were very interested, given their shared connection to America. I’m so thankful that I did, otherwise this account would have been quite meagre.
The morning after our two very action-packed days in New York, we were up very early, as the bus was scheduled to depart at 8 a.m. sharp. After struggling down to the meeting point with our considerable luggage, (we, or should I say I, never learn), we were instantly drawn into the American, all-enveloping, for want of a better word, family. It was great fun from the word go. They could not have been more friendly, and I quickly came to the conclusion that Americans must be the best talkers in the world. The level of conversation all around us never abated and before we had left New York City we had unavoidably eavesdropped on the intimate details of several of their lives. We were the only “non-Americans” in the group of 43 passengers and they couldn’t have been more inclusive. In my exact words: “We were embraced almost to the point of suffocation”. However, despite my comments to this effect, we very genuinely liked our fellow travellers and did enjoy getting to understand the American character more.
With regard to the actual tour itself, I have difficulty finding the words to do it justice. It did not disappoint on any level. The itinerary covered some of the highlights of each of the seven states of New England and we were fortunate to be viewing them all in the “fall”. Out of interest I googled “the fall” and I couldn’t put it more eloquently: ”Autumn falls across New England like a bright patchwork quilt, the cooler weather painting the landscape in broad strokes of scarlet, gold and shocking orange”. In terms of the best times to view these colours, “late September to mid-October”.
In thinking back, all these years later, as to which state left the most lasting impression on me, I find that it is the state of Vermont, maybe because I wrote so movingly about it at the time: “The best day so far, my sort of weather (cool and crisp). Everything I had imagined as the best of New England I found in Vermont. The landscape, the lifestyle, which is so dictated by the weather, the harsh winters etc. Montpellier, the capital, was so classy and elegant and so “New England”. The feature which very much influenced my perceptions of the state is that there were no big chains (of stores), no billboards were allowed (or, not at that time). This leaves one with an impression of simplicity, nothing to offend or detract from the beauty of the countryside, the woods, the lanes. Also, the fall colour was the best so far – oranges, bright yellows, rich Reds.
The highlight of the day was the visit to a maple syrup farm. I loved it! It evoked so absolutely the atmosphere I have gleaned from novels, the characters from families who have continued this process for 8 generations, the “woodsy” feel, the sheer romanticism of this demanding and, in many ways, very unromantic life. For these people, it is so “in their blood”. We met some genuine characters, people who are so identified with this lifestyle that no other lifestyle could be imaginable.”
To this very day I can still picture the scene: where we parked the bus and where we all sat, on wooden benches at long wooden tables in a wooden building, where we were served delicious treats, all combined with their genuine, pure and local maple syrup.
And one final bonus: they had the sort of gift shop that you always hope to find when you’re travelling but so rarely do: simple, imaginative and tasteful.
And one final diary excerpt regarding our fellow passengers: “We really have been very lucky, this was a very good and diverse group and the experience has been very worthwhile, even enriching.”
Sue
P.S. The next post, on Sunday 2 February 2025, will be one written by Pieter again and includes a plea to you to write your own story.