Vacation 2013: Portsmouth, Cape Ann, and Harvard. Vacation's Over but the Road Still Goes On Forever

Newburyport

Well, here’s the last vacation post. I know this has lasted longer than the Iran-Iraq War and everything, but y’all all hate long posts, so it was either more frequent shorter posts or relatively fewer of the despised longer posts. I suppose I could have condensed the exposition even more than I did. Here’s the alternate Cliff’s Notes vacation blog post version:

“I spent my two weeks’ vacation in New England. I drove around and saw many cool things. It wasn’t very hot. It rained a lot. People talked funny. The grass was green. I had fun. Next-Top 5 Hats.”

There you go. Shorter posts. Are you happy now?

For those not into the whole brevity thing, I’ll just finish up the trip here. As the last post ended, I was just arriving in Manchester,NH, near the Massachusetts state line, under the cover of darkness. I expected to explore the city, one of New England’s largest, until I found that its basically Richmond without the charm. (Most of you won't know it, but that was a really funny line). Manchester is another one of those old industrial towns that dried up once the jobs all went overseas. The battered husk that remains doesn’t offer any compelling reason to visit. Except as a place to spend the night. Its just a sad place with little color or charm. Everything closes at about 8:00 on Sunday nights, for example, I guess so everyone can work on their meth businesses’ books. They call Cleveland the “Factory of Sadness.” This place would be the “Loser Rest Stop.” That’s a little harsh, but only a little. The town itself lacks the qualities I’ve extolled these past couple of weeks—older preserved homes and buildings, interesting shops, engaging natural scenery, museums, and the like. You’ll never find a historic park or forest preserve there. Or if you did, there’d be six guys wearing Red Sox sweatshirts hanging around during a weekday yelling at each other. If you like the part of Houston near the 610 South loop between the Astrodome and the old Gulfgate Mall, Manchester is your kind of town.

Northeast Delta Dental Stadium

No point hanging around Manchester then. One bright spot deserves mention though. The Hilton Garden Inn where I stayed (or whatever it was called; at some point when you’re on the road long enough every hotel looks the same…hey, only two weeks in and I sound like Bob Seger) was adjacent to the minor league baseball team’s stadium (the Northeast Delta Dental Stadium). The back patio was right behind the centerfield wall and gave a clear view of the entire field. All the hotel rooms on that side looked onto the stadium. I thought the minor league season already ended, but as I saw some players in uniform running and stretching in the outfield. Apparently the team had made the playoffs and they were getting ready for a Sunday day game. I thought about watching. But I can watch a minor league game any time (either the Round Rock Express or the Houston Astros), but not explore New England. So I hit the road.

Portsmouth

This day (Sunday) was a good bit warmer and certainly brighter than Saturday, so I knew I’d see crowds wherever I went. The day’s objective? The coast. I first visited Portsmouth, NH, an old port town by the Maine state line just before the Piscataqua River. I arrived late, of course, just before noon. Tourists had already packed the historic downtown area, with its old brick buildings and streets, so I parked out on Peirce Island, which juts into the still active commercial port and seaway. I took a short walk over the bridge and into town, through Prescott Park. Many locals had set up in the Park, enjoying the fantastic port, drawbridge, and marina views, and the extensive flower garden and waterside walkway. I admired the town’s great federal and colonial architecture and the numerous restored houses. Downtown featured many tourist trap shops, but also some interesting bars and restaurants. I followed the historical Heritage trail that leads into the non-tourist area. This way I saw some “off the beaten path” places, including a little inland lake and river outlet, and some interesting markets and boat basins. Despite the beautiful day, few people had taken out their boats. The wind had kicked up but the Patriots weren’t playing and it was otherwise a fantastic day. The boats should have been out in full force.

Sunday in September means Texans game day. I must have driven to every so-called “sports bar” in town. The one, and only one, that had the “NFL Sunday Ticket” (the Direct TV package with access to all NFL games), wasn’t showing the Texans. In fact, it had only three TV sets linked to Direct. The night before, I went to a Manchester sports themed restaurant with many televisions. They had tuned nearly all of them to the local Jeopardy telecast, though a couple showed Formula One racing. Which made sense because why would any sports bar show the Notre Dame game, or the Ohio State game, or the TCU-Texas Tech game? I thought New England was supposed to one of the country’s great sports areas. What, no downhill skiing? No synchronized swimming? What the hell? A sports bar not showing all the NFL games? That’s like a deaf singer. That’s like a soldier without a gun (you know, the Canadian Army). A doctor who never went to medical school. Anyway, all these sports bars failed, so I just grabbed a salad and finally hit the road.

To Cape Ann, Mass. Picture the Massachusetts coastline. To the south lies Cape Cod. Above that, Boston anchors the coast. Then to the north, Cape Ann features numerous picturesque small towns, with whitewashed church steeples, historic town squares, SUVs, manicured lawns, farmlands, Dunkin Donuts, and roadside kitsch stores and clam shops.

Newburyport

I went to Newburyport, on the lovely Merrimack River. As with many other coastal towns, the old port facilities and supporting commercial district buildings had given way to recreational and tourist uses. Though the afternoon was slowly becoming evening, hundreds still walked the old town’s brick sidewalks and took in the historic buildings and shops. This town has done an excellent job preserving those old industrial and historic buildings and repurposing them into commercial businesses. Apparently they were on the verge of leveling the entire downtown during the ‘60s to obtain federal “urban renewal” grants when at the last minute they changed their minds and preserved them. Similar to Newport. These old buildings don’t compete with the strip malls and chain stores closer to the highway, but instead appeal to the apparently plentiful tourist trade.

With the sun quickly sinking, I decided to risk it and push all the way to Rockport, near Cape Ann’s southern edge and just on the sea. The way there takes you down back country roads, through places named Exeter and Ipswich. These quaint little towns mostly fit my pre-conceived Norman Rockwell image of the small New England country town. In between towns, I saw gently rolling hills which leveled out near the coast. More farms than I expected lined the road. I suppose its nearing harvest time, and crops surrounded by lush green trees and grass stood tall, waving in the wind. The contrast between New England and Central Texas, always stark, really applies to the colors. Central Texas becomes brown during summer and stays that way until the usual mid-September storms produce some greenery. But green, and slowly, orange and red, blankets New England. I mentioned previously how the area near Middlebury and Rutland, VT reminded me of Ireland as the sun shone brightly on their lush green hills. Cape Ann similarly is awash in green with red and orange tinges. All along the way, I also noticed little “clam shacks.” These roadside stores, little more elaborate than our food trucks, sell fried clams and other seafood goodness. At roughly 5:00 p.m. on Sunday when I passed through, people had packed nearly all these places. Parking lots were filled, and walk up stands had long lines. Guess you can’t beat those places for fresh shellfish.

And its DQ Country. Fact. Driving along, I came upon a Dairy Queen (with Orange Julius of course), sticking out like a sore thumb, on the road near Ipswich. The customers sitting outside (right, there’s patio dining at the DQ-Massachusetts) must have thought me a loony as I circled the place to take a sweet picture. But we’ve established a beachhead. I then began keeping a lookout for Whataburger. No luck though.

Rockport

Near 6:30, with not much daylight remaining, I made it Rockport. This picture perfect New England town lies just east the more modern Gloucester. Though the sunset loomed, people still roamed the small downtown and the shops on Bear Skin Neck. This is a small strip jutting into the water, with two or three rows of houses and shops. A little scenic point sits at the very end and gave some great views of the marina and town against the setting sun.

After sunset I drove back to Manchester, to pack and get ready for the last full day of my vacation, where I would go to Boston and ultimately to Providence for the night and fly out the next day. I intended to spend Monday night in Boston, but the hotel prices absolutely shocked me. $500 seemed about average for a comfortable room with a bed, shower, hot water, and good location. So forget that nonsense.

Radcliffe Yard

I instead just drove through Boston and spent the night in Providence. With limited time I decided just to see Harvard. I’d been there before, but having seen Brown, Dartmouth, and Yale on this trip, a Harvard visit would make a full Ivy League house. Also, I hadn’t really spent much time within the campus proper, just on the outskirts. I drove down, and after lunch spent about 2-3 hours just walking around, not on a guided tour. With apologies to Cole, my overwhelming feeling was Harvard seemed a lot like Texas. Huge campus within a commercial district, an unexpectedly huge number of students, trappings of “everything’s for sale/money talks,” and “Resistance is Futile.” Harvard, for example, has the largest university endowment in the country, followed by the University of Texas System in the three hole. The entire campus was buzzing with frenetic activity, just like at Texas.  I did find one small oasis: Radcliffe Yard. Radcliffe was formerly Harvard's "sister" women's college. Helen Keller and Gertrude Stein attended Radcliffe, for example. And Edie Sedgwick.  It merged with Harvard in 1999, and has become a specialized study institute. But its maintained lovely, untrampled facilities far from the madding crowd at Harvard. That's where I'd spend my reflecting and study time.

The Law School reminded me of Texas as well, only its even bigger than the Texas law school. It

Harvard Law School

spreads over several buildings, and it appears to have a larger enrollment. It also boasts its own student center and dorms, so the law students don’t have to hang around undergrad riff raff. Or maybe so the law students don’t contaminate the impressionable and easily led astray undergrads. As opposed to the quasi-Marxist faculty members doing that. As William F. Buckley wrote, “I am obliged to confess I should sooner live in a society governed by the first two thousand names in the Boston telephone directory than in a society governed by the two thousand faculty members of Harvard University.” Oh, and I saw a framed Vertigo poster on a first floor wall outside the student lockers. Very nice. I peeked in on some classes. They looked like mine, with some exceptions. I saw almost no “older students.” I was one of the youngest people in my law school class. Here, I’d have been the average age. Sounds like discrimination Harvard! Every one of these kids had their own personal water bottle too. That was a little odd. People took water to my classes too, but I’ll bet there were a few flasks getting tipped as well. Also, every one had a name card in front of them. This no doubts facilitates the Socratic method, and I understand that the semester has just started, but our professors never made us use those. They didn’t care who we were. They’d have a seating chart and they’d call us out from it, but didn’t care if no one else knew our names. Finally, I was happy to see that no one was using a laptop or tablet or iPad or the like. They were taking notes with pen and paper. The last few times I’ve spied on some Texas law classes, all the students took notes on their laptops or other similar devices. Which I though was bizarre but then again I still think fax machines are pretty Space Age.

I made my way to Providence and spent the night, then knocked around town until my flight left that afternoon. I won’t redescribe the places I saw. Though, I did focus on driving rather than walking, and which took me as far as the Wayland neighborhood and the lovely Blackstone Boulevard. It’s an amazing tree-lined boulevard running through some richey rich areas east of town right next to the water, running all the way to Pawtucket. Many trees and a well-maintained gravel hiking and jogging trail run along the entire median. I wish I’d had time to make that run. But instead I had to go on to the airport. First however, I had lunch in a little Pawtucket barbecue place, where a very odd looking, possibly homeless, woman leaving the place asked to hold my hand as I walked in the door. Unlike the Great Barrington CVS Pharmacy lady, I don’t think she enjoyed listening to me talk. Very…odd.

I thought I’d list a few out of left field things I’ve seen traveling up here these couple of weeks.

 

·         First, only a few places maintain separate men’s and women’s rooms. There’s usually two “unisex” restrooms. I’m sure that reflects political correctness to some extent, and possibly the reality that most women take longer to use the restroom so women will more likely encounter a waiting line. Whatevs. Now at this point, my first draft contained an overly long diatribe on how many elements in our society try, with some success, to obliterate any distinction between “men” and “women,” and how that causes all kinds of horribles. I quickly concluded that it went on far too long and got way too far off topic. And would probably irritate everyone. But, assuming I never post it, I concluded “this is why the likes of Beiber fouls our world.” That’s just undeniable.

·     I saw several corner houses that had angled corners. In other words, the corners of the house weren't a strict 90 degree angle, but would follow the corner's angle.
 

·         Other random facts. The closer you are to Boston, the more your radio dial consists of classic rock stations. And only that. Now I know these are all wicked cool, but come on Boston. You’re a major world metropolis and leading educational center, and no one can hear anything but Foreigner?  

·         Dental and orthodontic care hasn’t progressed much. Or its gone downhill. People have jacked up teeth around here. I saw more gap space between New England teeth than in all the malls in America (“Gap”…”malls”…get it? ‘cause there’s a lot of “Gap” stores?  Hello?). Guess it makes it easier to open beer bottles. In church.

·         Dunkin Donuts has conquered New England. They’re everywhere. Not Starbucks. You can find Starbucks, but you stumble over Dunkin Donuts everywhere. They’ve changed totally from the “time to make the donuts” guy era, by the way. Its not just donuts. Its sandwiches and 50 kinds of coffee and tea and muffins and more coffee and drive throughs and wi-fi.

·         How about yall coming up with some new town names? New England must have only about 20 different town names, and every state has one of each. Woodstock, Waterbury, Hartford, Salem, Springfield, Clinton, Litchfield, Manchester…the list goes on. Think of some new names. Or at least steal some names from other states.

 

And to conclude, the Vacation Awards:

·         Best scenery: Mt. Mansfield/Stowe, VT

·         Best campus: Dartmouth

·         Best town:  Burlington

·         Best state: Vermont

·         Best tourist attraction: the Newport mansions

·         Best hotel: the Study at Yale

·         Best meal: either breakfast at the Wainright Inn, Great Barrington

·         Best drive: the Kancamagus Highway, NH

OK, thanks for traveling along with me. Next year, I’ll go somewhere more interesting.

NEXT-back to the Top 5 lists. Huge deflation noise noted.