Lake George-the only thing new are the power boats

 Set your Time Machine for the late 1950’s.  You and your sibs are in the back of your family’s Ford (or Chevy) station wagon.  You know the one with the fins and faux wooden panel on the sides.  Seat belts-what are those?  You and yours have pushed all the luggage  to the back of  the front seats of the car where Dad was driving and Mom was reading the fold out map-thank heavens for car navigation…Eddie and I would have killed each other with the fold out map manual navigation system.  Of course, if you come from a large family, the luggage was lashed to the top of the car.  You have blankets and pillows, books-usually comic books….I liked Archie and Jughead, and maybe a game or two, no jacks.  The little red ball would be all over the car, and the jacks might be under your bottom.  

You have left the cool green of the Green Mountains of Vermont and driven to the Adirondacks in New York.  You are north of Albany and south of Montréal.  You leave the Interstate for Highway 9 and Lake George.  Lake George is a 32 mile lake that stretches north toTiconderoga (like the #2 pencil company) and empties into Lake Champlain.    The area is rich with American History dating back to the 1600’s.   Trappers, Indians, Forts, French and Indian Wars and  Revolutionary war.  

What I did not expect was it to look almost exactly down to the teepee lodging.   Lake George and all the smaller communities surrounding the lake have 1950-60 assortment of lodging options, complete with the Vacancy and No vacancy lights.  We have truly stepped back in time to our childhood.  Eddie and I first came here in the 1970’s with friends who grew up on this lake, Shelly lived here and John summered here in a family home on the shores of the lake.  Shelly kept that family home until a couple of years ago…so we needed a place to stay.  Small cottages, motels not hotels (remember Motels you drove to the door and parked, hotels you usually parked and went to your room a couple floors up) dot the shoreline.  Yeah, there a couple of of the chain hotels-Howard Johnson (by Wyndham, the old one was repurposed to a Chinese buffet place), Holiday Inn (without the trademark signage), and Hampton Inn on the opposite side of the highway.  Ed chose the Erlowest Castle.  Hmmm, of course, he would select the one with Castle in its name.  His requirements included a living room, balcony overlooking the lake, king bed, a fireplace would be nice.  He did not say built this century.  We are indeed at the Erlowest, but  the Villas down the hill that were built in the 1960’s.  Renovation-kinda sort of.  Formica counter tops in the kitchenette, check, TV, Cable and internet are about as modern as it gets.  There is a sleeper sofa in the living room, with a Scandinavian blond coffee table, which Eddie uses for a foot rest.  Eddie has deemed this only one step above staying in an unair conditioned bunk bedroom at Yosemite National Park.  The bathroom, OMG, the size and configuration reminds us that our large spacious bathrooms are a gift.  Standing in the toilet to brush your teeth comes to mind.  So glad I was not on the selection committee for this…in Eddie’s world accommodations should be in the 4-5 star range.  While this checked the boxes, it is decidedly 1.5 stars.  However, to be on the Lake side, I mean all of the accommodations are 1-2 stars.  At least we are in a good location at the base of the lake-convenient to Putt Putt golf, Boardwalk carnival games places, a couple of cheesy for 2025 (or even 1975) rides and activities.  We are even going on a cruise on the lake in a 125.year old steamboat if the rain forecast is wrong.  There are always the various Forts to explore.  I dare say that several generations of families have come here in the summers, kids gone to the various camps that dot the lake.  Each generations memories look the same.  In a world of new and shiny, bigger and more exclusive, this is a throw back to that kinder gentler time.  For the current generation, it is a reminder that you still can have fun without your phone, Insta or Tik Tok.  

Mother’s Day in. Vermont

 Our soggy Saturday drive from Meredith to Woodstock, Vermont, has given way to some of the most glorious blue skies and cool temps you could imagine.  And just like the weather, the change from New Hampshire to Vermont has been equally as dramatic.  CG selected Woodstock, Vermont, to home base us from for the three days in Vermont.  If you googled Woodstock, wiki and the Trip Advisor page will describe it as the “Prettiest Small Town in America”.  For a town with only slightly more than 3,000 residents and no industry other than tourism, it just that, charming, well maintained homes, a river flanking the towns boundaries and a Main Street with shoppes.  

The shear number of large well maintained historical homes tend to suggest this is a getaway for people from Boston.  The homes date back to the late 1700’s, the newer things from the late 1800’s…painted wooden homes, with shutters or the Federal brick styling that is more prevalent in the Mid Atlantic states.  The surrounding towns of Quechee and Bridgewater have a definite artist vibe…furniture builders, wood craftsmen, glass blowers and potters round out the things to do here.  The roads switch back and forth over the rivers, with the often pictured red covered bridges, the topography adds a dash of drama to the river (not to mention this past week’s rain fall) with waterfalls and gorges.  Woodstock is also home to the only National Park in the entire state of Vermont-the Marsh-Billings-Rockefeller Historical Park.  Just as John D. Was somewhat of a Godfather to the preservation of Colonial Williamsburg, his son Laurence was that to this area.  Preservation of a way of life, the nature beauty and sound conservation of the land and resources.  Everything down to Gillingham’s General Store and the Woodstock Inn are somewhat frozen in time and preserved for all to experience.  The rivers around this area, the gentle hills and terrain provides the outdoor experiences, the shoppes and galleries for your artistic souls and breweries and distilleries for your days end.  Here again, there are no franchise operations, grocery stores or unsightly signage….bespoken, curated, timeless….yep, nailed it.  

We selected the Jackson for our three day stay here.  Down Main Street, out Church street (Of course, all the 250 year old churches line the street) and slightly down Route 4. I am not sure of its history, but it looks to have been a large home built in 1890 converted to a 15 room bed and breakfast.   While I might be making this up, based on my early morning coffee with the owner, Dave from Boston, he must have recently purchased this Bed and Breakfast and is renovating and updating the place.  Dave (who drives a Porsche) said he lives part time in Boston and part time here as is also owns The Shire.  The Shire is a 50 room hotel that overlooks the River in downtown Woodstock.  Dave piddles…like  Eddie piddles.  The on-site couple that manage the day to day looks to be his handyman and reno foreman, the wife is the B&B manager.  Dave likes to come for the weekend and slap a few coats of paint on things, or places his most recent antique finds.  Like I said, Eddie piddling…without Amazon.  

Sunday saw us visiting the Pearson families artistic endeavors.  Andrew, the son, is a woodcraft’s man.  His turned bowls from the hardwood of Vermont are stunning. His equipment impressed Eddie for sure.  Of course, we purchased on of his bowls.  It will arrive Tuesday after we get home.  For lunch, we went to his Dad’s glass blowing works.  Simon Pearce is a renowned glassware blower and potter like his father in Ireland.  Apparently, there is an artistic gene there.  The glassworks is perched on the banks Ottaquechee River Falls and uses hydroelectric power to run its operations.  The glasses have some heft.  While Rydell glasses are prized for their thinness, these have some serious weight…but at an average price of $100 per stem, even Eddie was taken aback.  His little crystal trees are his signature pieces…again, no sale as each to include the 3 inch ones were in the $500-2000 range.  Makes West Coast Chihuly look like a bargain.   We had lunch in his restaurant that hangs over the falls.  Not a bad way to spend Mother’s Day.  Dessert was next door at the Palmer House and the Whistle Pig Tasting Room.  With my trusty Total Wine app, no bottles were purchased as we could get most in Humble.  Eddie deemed the Vermont only Campfire not worthy of it $75 a bottle price.  Besides, Eddie is more a bourbon guy than a Rye Guy.

We made a stop at the Quechee Gorge and met the Troll on the side of the bridge.  The Quechee Gorge on one side is a state park with hiking trails and camping areas.  This is where the troll was.  Grumpy older man, using a elementary school paper cutter.  He was not terribly informative nor friendly.  Slice, slice, whap, whap.  We asked questions based on flyers posted and information on the sheets.  One, two word responses.  This area has a hot balloon festival every year around Father’s Day.  Grumpy’s comment was it has been rained out last two years, and will probably be washed out again.  Wow, you must have been up for the Chamber of Commerce’s spokesperson.    I inquired what was the best way to see the Gorge since the bridge and area under it appeared to have heavy construction.  Grumpy said, take the path…two miles later, you could see nothing but chain linked fence and equipment.  The correct and better answer would have been drive across the highway to the souvenir shop and picnic area owned by an Individual and it is a great unobstructed view.  So, no view, no good pictures, but I did get my steps in.  

We had dinner at the local hang out White Cottage-a throwback hamburger place and seating on the banks of the river….since 1957…April to October…no credit cards, cash only.    We were probably the only tourists there…these are the locals, not the ones that live in the big houses, but more the ones that keep it running and  maintained.  Everyone knew each other and tables inside and out were full.  Folks around our age have a certain feral quality about themselves…blue hair, sleeve tattoos …we all see it, don’t stare, no pointing, but Eddie and I would give each other “the look” so we could discuss later.  Everyone else our age have a certain Bernie and Jane (Sanders) look about themselves.  

We were back early evening and after a day of whiskey tasting, ice cream and long hikes, we turned in early.  Dave our B&B host in an attempt to modernize, has keyless digital pads for locks on every door.  We are not sure whether Eddie failed the door lock check before we turned in, or the manager texted the folks across the hall the same unlock code, but at 9:45 there was a tall gray headed stranger looking at us from the open door.  I would have to say, that was a first.  Eddie slept right through it…until I screamed.  It took a little bit before my pulse was in the targeted range again.  Traveling with Eddie is always an adventure.  

Dry Dock on a Wet Day

It has been three/four days since we departed Houston, and as many of you know that typically means a unschedule, but not unexpected Eddie day in Dry Dock.  Our room on Lake Winnipesaukee (Winni in N.H. speak) and the fluffy duvet cover on our bed have been calling to Eddie during the day.   The weather gods must have heard him, as the skies opened up on during Thursday night, and have made very little movement since then.  As this is not a heavy sight seeing trip, Eddie was actually ready to dawn his rain gear and brave the elements.  Surprise, surprise.  

We ventured out for breakfast to George’s diner.  Trip Advisor and CG both agreed that it was a must do for breakfast.  Eddie is a big breakfast guy, so he was all about heading to the  George.  George’s in a white framed smallish building perch on the hill over looking Winni.  The building has probably had several tenants before George in the early 1990’s…not sure if it has been cleaned or renovated since before that date.  Some of the paint on the window panes looks slightly older than our children.  The seating and Formica tables were older than that.  As were the 4x6 pieces of white (at some point) foam randomly glued to the low ceiling to help with the noise level.  The dining area is about the size of our dining room and foyer area, with a Waffle House bar in front.  The flooring may have been faux brown wood linoleum or contact paper, but the rubbed white area under each table said it had seen a lot of different folks feet/shoes.  There was not an open table to be had, young, old, tourist and local all sat eagerly awaiting a hardy breakfast at very reasonable prices, no egg up charge, no substitutions, please.  Three meals a day, with not one over $10 for breakfast,  $15 for lunch, $20 for dinner, with each night special and all you can eat.  Ed and I could have split breakfast, and taken home leftovers. Don’t judge a book by its cover, but think twice about using the ladies room.    

It is one thing we have found all around Meredith.  Food is good, basic hearty bill of fare, at very reasonable prices.  The salad greens are fresh (see Moulton Farms), as is the seafood.  Just like the Mills Falls resort which has most of the lodging around the lake, the restaurants (not George’s) tend to be under The Common Man ownership flag.  Lots of different styles of food Italian, seafood, pizza, pub grub, all with their own name, but all similar in the amount and pricing and the little touches.  Each has a block of local cheese or lobster cheese spread with crackers at the door.  Take as much as you want, come back for seconds, but don’t take more than you need.  The drinks from the bar don’t have big city or even resort pricing, but are hearty pours.  

It is Friday, before Mother’s Day…also May weddings, while I suspect June is a more popular month at the temps have hovered in the 50-60’s.  We have seen (and spoken with)  some of the locals, we have seen a huge uptick in both people and traffic…shades of the season, we are sure.    There are two groups…people that could pass for Kingwood peeps and decidedly older.  When Eddie wiki-ed New Hampshire…”Live Free or die”, there are almost no taxes charged to its residents….and considered one of the most well educated people in the US.  Other than the bitter winters it has all the things one would want.  Low or no taxes, smart folks, lots of outdoor sports explains the somewhat older residents….must have gotten back from their winter homes in Florida early.  While I am sure that summer sees it’s fair share of Muffy’s (you know, Kelly green slacks, pink Kate spade crossover bag, and cute little ballet flats)  and Trippy’s (Boat shoes, Oxford striped shirt with a sweater secured around their neck) during the season, but for now, it is shoulder season and folks like us.  

We popped in and out of the shops (rather shoppes), all are unique and decidedly not chain stores.  There are bakeries and homemade ice cream parlors, independent bookstores and outdoor gear stores.  Once totally soaked, we went back to our room…you know the one with the fireplace and balcony, to watch the rain fall, curl up with a book, and wait to be fed again.  Dry dock/rainy days with Eddie can be so often full of unexpectedly fun.  

Saturday is just like Friday, a heavy downpour to load the car and drive to Woodstock, Vermont.  Nope, not that Woodstock, that one is in New York, near a dairy farm. Our 55 mile trip is up and down mountains, once again following a river or two (Indian and White Rivers) which after all the rain are swollen and above their banks…shades of Texas for sure.  Flash Flood warning, anyone. The outdoor enthusiasts have their kayaks strapped on Sporty cars and are ready to ride the swift water. On our Vermont list (one more Bingo square for Karen) is Bernie (Sanders), Ben and Jerry’s original ice cream shoppe/factory, the Van Trapp Family Lodge (think Julie Andrew’s and Hills are alive with the sound of music),  an early Rockefeller National Park (another twofer day), Simon Pearce glassworks,   and last but certainly not least in Eddie’s mind, the Whistle Pig Distillery.  Wish us luck and good hunting.  

White Mountains Day

Kancamagus Scenic Highway…say that fast three times.  It is a road less travel through the White Mountain National Forest (Two fer day) that follows the bends of the Swift River through about 35 miles of mid state New Hampshire.  Despite what is happening in Texas, it is still early spring here.  The cherry trees, and hardwoods are just budding…the elms, yes, elm trees, flank the highways.  Just as we have seen pine tree forest destroyed by beetles, last century, it was Dutch Elm disease.  Texas has very few elms particularly in the Houston area….here in New Hampshire, there are plenty.  

Typically, in season you can ride one of the two scenic railways through the forest and see the granite cliffs, waterfalls and gorges along the Swift River.  We are here before Memorial Day, so it is our trusty black rental car.  Post breakfast, with the two cups of coffee on our elm shaded balcony, we headed to Moulton Farm and store.  We were early enough to see the locals carrying out clear garbage bags full of fresh salad greens and baby kale.  Be still my beating bunny rabbit’s heart.  Inside this New Hampshire farm store each shelf held a new item begging to be tasted.  Baked goods, cider doughnuts, fresh pasta, fresher cheeses, greenhouse tomatoes grown out the back door, fresh made chips or roasted coffee.  Do not get me started about the variety of Pickles.   We had planned for a picnic lunch at Rocky Gorge water fall mid drive along the highway.  I came prepared.  I packed a cooler…but not a sharp knife.  TSA still frowns on carrying knives on board of planes.  We made do with an assortment of plastic cutlery and napkins.  

The drive was lovely, despite the grey skies.  As this is shoulder season, before the trains run, we had the road and park pull offs to ourselves.  Other than Park support buildings there may have been all of three houses that probably predated this becoming a national park.  As advertised, the internet GPS was sketchy.  Glad there was not much mystery in what road to take.  We ended in Holderness which appears to have the snow skiing business and related tourism sown up…complete with a couple of Wineries and huge white wooden hotel with red roofs.  On the far east of this scenic Highway, near Conway, there are the various towns of Sandwich.  There is an East Sandwich, Center Sandwich and plain Sandwich.  Can you imagine if we ever move here?  The Pickles of Sandwich, New Hampshire.  The jokes would never end.  

After nearly two days here, the one thing we have not seen are WalMarts nor Amazon fleets…big, little, electric or gas powered.  The Dollar General Store looks to blend in, either an old white washed wooden structure or a new building made to look old. We have seen more of a throw back to our childhood, family stores, business that proudly claim 100 or more years in business.  Coming from Houston, it is as if we had walked back in time.  I can imagine in places like these, Meredith in particular, families have grown up coming to these places in the summer.  Think Dirty Dancing, without Patrick Swazye.  Simple things that create the vivid tapestry of our memories.  It is kind of like Nantucket (no ferry needed), but a local secret that they don’t share.  Chat GPT knows all the cool places.

So, for the question of the day.  What do Chat GPT, Xfinity (previously known as Comcast), and Cheryl’s Cookies have in common?  About 9 months ago, after much effort on labor’s part to get a new line drop from the Xfinity post (front yard, right hand side of driveway) under the driveway, across the yard to the west side of the house.  The old line was just not doing it.  We had distorted pictures that their technicians knew was their problem, not ours.  I spoke to the Chat bot (virtual assistant and CG nasty relative, we all have a few).  I had been in line for live agents, visited the website, went through the app, been to the store so many times, I am sure the employees thought I had a thing for the Manager.  I even got the store’s only secret phone numbers list to get a live person every time.  Nope, the service guys never made it to our house at the appointment time to fix the problem.  Meanwhile, back on Lakeshore Villa, all the various fiber optic and cell internet providers have dug up our yard, and blocked the traffic on our street. I, finally, with Management’s blessing, changed our internet provider to Tachus.  You need to understand, Eddie loved his X1 remote, he had almost 20 years of experience with their TV guide and during the pandemic learned how to access each new platform as it was added.  He loved whispering “Netflix or KPRC” into the X1 remote.  But we were paying a fortune to watch pixelated TV.  The learning curve was steep.  We needed a Live TV provider, we were reduced to the LG TV remote that has green tape holding the battery faceplate  in place…never mind the Sound Amp remote.  Yeah, I know there are unifying remotes that can be purchased And programmed.  We have done that, did not satisfy management.  So for nine months, we gave Tachus and Hulu Live a shot.  Funny, we now have different problems.  Their Net Meshing system was not right or strong enough for our house….we now have a Netgear mesher.  The other brand had a back door for China to gather information…perish the thought…there is even a Congressional hearing about it, so it must be bad.  We changed all the various variables numerous times and we were still not happy with the quality and ease of service.  When Tachus asked how old our TV was (2017) and said were probably needed a new TV…Management almost lost his mind.  So, one day I put all the events into my buddy Chat GPT and asked it to compose a letter to Comcast (corporate level stuff) outlining our service issues and the fact we would like to return to Xfinity…for better or worse, until death do us part.  Also, asked CG to give me the President of Comcast email address to send my letter.  CG polished my hostile letter thoughts for sure.  I pushed send on Tuesday afternoon after the close of business in New York.  By 9:00 Wednesday morning, I am on the phone with a corporate VP asking me when the District Manager, District Service Technician and some Engineer could come to my house and see about getting us back to the Xfinity fold.  Fast forward, yeah, we are back with the Dark Overlord of the Internet.  I have had to pry the storage box of coax and Ethernet cables that were conveniently located on the top of the garage cabinets and throw said contents in trash. Eddie is still in mourning.    Apparently while we were gone, the coax cable got fatter  and can handle the high speed that is coming in.  Think water hose coax versus fire hose coax.    Everything is Wi-Fi now, no hard wire, but after several Saturdays with our new friends, our house is so well constructed that a steady Wi-Fi signal is not a sure thing.  We are actually hard wired.  The engineer said we might need a new TV or sound amp if we went totally wireless.  In a minor miracle, Eddie has said No, and has not even shopped online for either.  So, while there was not a pre nup signed, we are married to Xfinity until we leave the Lake or they carry us out in pine boxes. I, also,  have a stack of business cards for all the folks up the ladder, my Plan B.  My local Xfinity store manager even showed me where our accounts has a special note on it that says my dealings should be with an Assistant Manager or Manager.  So, the Cheryl’s Cookies.  Eddie has had informed delivery from all the regulars to include USPS, UPS, FedEx, Amazon.  For days he  had been getting info on a delivery from Cheryl’s Cookies.  Mother’s Day…Lauren knows better, George would have offered to cook me dinner.  We scratched our heads.  Tuesday afternoon before we  leave, the package of a three boxes of cookies (thank you tower) arrives on our doorstep.  Thank you card from the President of Xfinity.  Yup…make AI a friend…it has its benefits.  

Do you use AI?

More on Today’s topic in a minute.  A little background, after all, you know I have to give you context for you to make some sense in my idle ramblings.  I am not sure if you have notice at pattern in my writings or not.  We, Pickle people, are soooo very predictable, especially as we age.  Perish the thought.  We use to be good with a fresh pair of underwear and a toothbrush to travel.  Fast forward 50 years, we now required three bags, one each of our clothes and one for the just in case and medical equipment.  Also gone are the days of just climbing on the plane or into the car with no plans or reservations.  We research the hell out of stuff.  Finesse coupons, mileage, shoulder season deals to make sure we are maximizing our dollars.  Old habits die hard.  

Typically, every year around Mother’s Day (read shoulder season) we are not home.  We are traveling.  Cruising was normally our go to, but more recently we have been concentrating on completing my Bingo Blackout board of all 50 states, American Territories and North American countries.  Eddie has already gotten blackout and shouted Bingo, but I want to have that same feeling of finishing my board.  There is also a separate National Park bingo card that we know we won’t complete, but there are bonus points when we get a two-fer that gets two squares (one on each type of bingo card)  on a trip. In the past, I have researched our April/May options and offered a list to Eddie, who makes the selections and I make reservations.  The management/labor dynamic is alive and well at Casa Pickle.  

This year our choices were New Hampshire and Vermont or the Badlands (think Mount Rushmore  and the two-fer).  Eddie decided NE charm was this year’s choice.  I confess, I knew very little about any of these places, where to go and stay.  Enter in AI.  Chat GPT, Clyde, Genius and assorted other names of AI owned by the alphabet companies were the potential paths.  I downloaded Chat CPT on my tablet.  Pinterest has cheat sheets on how to best used AI.  Are they tracking my question, yeah, but who cares about two older citizens asking questions…we keep our clothes on and do not do anything illegal.  

Once decided where we were going, I asked Chat GPT how to get there, where to stay and what to see, giving it some specific Pickle parameters…like restaurants, accommodations (read 4 star or above, no tents or squatting in the woods), gentle trails, scenic vistas, a selection of sights worth seeing and an unhurried vibe.  Within seconds it gave me a 10 day travel plans. We made or selections and then asked Chat GPT to refine various parts.  For example, it suggested Mills Falls Resort in Meredith.  It sits on the banks of Meredith Bay.  Turns out that there are several places under the Mills Falls Resort banner…some on the water, some perched on the hill.  We asked for a balcony on the water, fireplace, whirlpool tub, and living room…go big or go home.  The balcony rocking chairs are a big bonus, Chat GPT is a fast learner.  Traveling in the shoulder season we don’t get some things, but big nice rooms at a bargain price, yes, please.  We both decided or refined our request for accommodations, I let Eddie decided the day by day stuff, and made reservations at those places or things that needed a reservation, for everything else, I am Eddie this trip. Have not done in-depth research, surprise me. 

Chat GPT flew us into Boston from IAH, non stop. Eddie is best with the one and done flight schedule.    CG made tons of secondary suggestions in and out of Newark.  Yes, that Newark where United is cancelling flights as I write.  Eddie and I both decided a 7:30 AM flight from Boston, with chronically early arrival at 12:30 (EST) and a two hour drive to Meredith would be perfect.  No night driving, no rush hour.  Yes, we would have to get up at 4:30 in the morning, but giving our sleeping issues, we were probably going to be awake anyway.  CG must have known how much we hated the calf scramble at IAH Terminal C check-in.  Our flight was out of Terminal E, and we could check in at Terminal E.  Wow, talk about feeling like we had won the lottery.  Despite this being the first day (5/7) of Real ID, after 20 plus years of deadline changes, we sailed through everything in a matter of minutes.  The longest wait involved getting coffee at the Starbucks  from the app.  I failed to asked CG where the fast coffee location was.  Lesson learned.  

Mid day, mid week, Logan in Boston is an efficient well oiled machine.  Our small Ford Escape has been upgraded to a very tricked out Black Explorer-shoulder season, baby, shoulder season.  The car’s monitor screen is larger than some of our TVs.  Talk about technology driven cars…Eddie’s car is a 2013 that he uses none of the on board systems for, mine I use but default to Car Play where I plug my phone into the system.  So, it took a hot minute for me to pair my phone’s Bluetooth, get the climate control and seat stuff figured out.  I am sure CG could have helped, but Eddie was ready to roll, now!  

The two hour drive to Meredith was uneventful, just as we had requested.  Despite being on Interstate most of the way, it was blissfully void of truck traffic.  We arrived by 3:30 in Meredith. It met our expectation…charming framed houses around a mountain lake, with shops and restaurants galore.  Our room did not disappoint either…the balcony or the sofa by the fireplace is where we have spent time drinking our coffee, reading or writing since we arrived.  The otter swimming by and the loons in the lake have been bonuses.  Thanks,  Chat GPT, you do know how to plan a nice trip.  

Okay, your homework is to download Chat  GPT on your phone or tablet.  This is the future for all of us, you need to get comfortable with it.  It has an Ask a Question prompt very similar to Goggle search.  If you do the “free” (less than 20 questions a day) part, but have an account, it will learn you.  When it comes to things like travel, it will learn who you are (2 people over 70—no crazy nightlight suggestions needed)  and your typical preferences.  The other thing I have ask it for is how much certain household repairs or replacements should cost me where I live.  I do not have to give my information to Angi or Thumbtack to get a price range…and I do not have to suffer from what we call the lake effect on pricing.  We get a phone ballpark quote, then there is the lake upgrade when they come to the door.   Happens every time.  

What are we missing by being in Meredith during the shoulder season.  Traffic-the charming two lanes roads and traffic circles are bumper to bumper.  The summer Bank of New Hampshire Concert series that includes Keith Urban, Shania Twain, James Taylor to name a few.  Yeah, we are good.  Tomorrow’s question is what do Chat GPT, Xfinity and Cheryl’s cookies have in common…and a review of the White Mountain National Park (two-fer day) Highway drive.  

And the Winner is….

Not that thing…best oyster according to Eddie, silly you.  After exhaustive research from the coastal waters of Maine to the rain soaked streets of Charleston, Eddie has put in the research on the best oyster-raw or fried on the eastern seaboard.  And we have the Master Card receipts to prove it.  Drum roll if you please…it is the Southwest Sensation from PEI (Prince Edward Island), with second place going to the Virginia standard of Old Salty’s.    

Remember back in the day when Pappa’s on 59 (now I-69-they grow big so quickly) use to post on the outside marquee in the winter/holiday months Oysters $3.95 a dozen (followed by the fresh lobster $12.95 a pound) ? We did both specials.  Eddie would come home from work with that wild eyed look and said we were going out to dinner.  The boy could do some damage.  Once the kids left home we would bring our other oyster loving friends and do some serious damage.  The shuckers could not keep up.  Once they realized they had heavy duty eaters, our table would have a designated shucker.  Those days are long gone…the going rates are $3.50-4.00 per oyster…per oyster, you read it right.  No more 10-12 dozen on the half shell.  Since we have done limited excursions on this trip, Eddie decided to find the best oysters on the Eastern Seaboard, that tells you everything you need to know about Eddie’s adventuring spirit these days.  Today, with storm clouds and rain soaked streets we walked the mile to PearlZ on East Bay port side in Charleston.  We came to Charleston together in 2019, but Eddie has come here for years on Federal Court work and assorted boondoggles-I mean conferences.  October and November are usually the months of Low Country Oyster Roasts…byosk-bring your own shucking knife.  Some parties even gave them as party favors…one can never have too many oyster knives with a sexy leather belt pouch.  Oyster Bars in Charleston are like Nail Bars and Mexican Restaurants at home…one or two on every street corner.  There must be an oyster mafia as the prices/selection are pretty much the same every menu you glance at.  

PearlZ was the place on the way to the Charleston airport we discovered 5 years ago.  They have a couple of locations, today it is the one closest to the dock.  Neither rain nor humidity was going to stop Eddie from his oyster date.  Charleston humidity…next level, think New Orleans after a rain storm.  So glad I did not put any effort on my hair before leaving the ship.  We arrived a little before 1:45…the place does not open until 2:00…like I said very much like NOLA.  They took pity on us and let us come in early and get our oyster on.  I am only a casual oyster eater…I don’t think I have ever committed to a full a dozen…more of a one and done kind of gal.  Eddie had the two mentioned above, and a fried oyster platter that he said was the best he has had in a long time.  I had a mixed grill skewer with the usual suspects of shrimp, scallops, salmon and unicorn fish….please do not tell my grand daughters I ate a unicorn fish.  When we got back, I looked it up…figured the foodies had renamed some not appealing sounding fish name with unicorn fish.  Nope, unicorn fish, sturgeon fish and tangs (think Dory) are all part of same group.  They have a slight horn on the head.  So, unicorn fish…it is what for dinner…wonder if that is at our H‑E‑B.  

As we retraced our steps, I went left towards the Charleston City market and Eddie went right back toward the ship and a post oyster nap.  Charleston understands the tourist market well.  This is a 4 block area in middle of Market Street that for over 200 years have housed the City markets.  Today, it is home to local sweet grass weavers, artists, tee shirts and souvenirs…all out of the rain and sun, some with fans and some more like small shops with Air Conditioning and bathrooms.  It is fun to wander the market…whether I bought anything or not.

I am on the back side of my upper respiratory stuff…based on the sights (masks) and sounds (coughing and nose blowing) everyone else on our ship signed up for the same excursion.  Eddie is late to the party, but the coughing began this morning…great souvenir.  We seem to keep picking up this same souvenir every time we get on a ship.  We arrive home Saturday afternoon late.  I have been watching Rafael with interest.  Looks like we are not going to have a visitor….George quipped that if the government is really controlling the weather, we need to stop given them our Itineraries.  Until our next adventure…. 

It’s a Miracle!

 It’s a miracle! After ten days with Sir Richard/Eddie and his dapper wooden cane and brown fedora, Eddie has been healed!  He no longer needs his cane to walk.  Seriously, after a week on board, it was obvious he is out gunned by the other cruisers.  There are more pieces of expensive medical equipment for whatever your infirmity might be here on board Nautica.  Our fellow passengers are almost all of a certain age…read I am on the young side of this spectrum.  Yes, there are pockets of 50ish folks (Cuban American that live for the casino to be open), but by and large it  people that prefer a smaller ship, excellent food (you can even get a lobster on a burger-foodie wet dream), and lots of butt powdering.  You can sort the groups by medical equipment and shoe wear.  There is a range of footwear that looks like a catalog shoot from Foot Solutions.  (Read High end shoes that are built for foot issues and comfort and are decidedly unflattering)  Then there is the walking and rolling medical equipment-did not even know some of these existed.  It took Eddie a week of observation to decided that his cane looked a little affected, but not much medical value.  Did he say this, no, but he concluded it was not helping his hip problem.  Duh, could have told him that, it is too short…thanks, Amazon.  

Today in Portland, we decided that we had actually had enough lobster and could do lunch on our own at Eventide Oyster Bar.  It ranks as one of the best places on the eastern sea board to get fresh raw oysters. Portland, Maine, is everything a charming New England town should be..with excursions to and from Peggy’s Cove for the iconic picture of the colorful cottages on the tidal pool to a red and white lighthouse on the rough rock coast/cove entrance…  Eddie was so excited about fresh oysters from the Maine coastline, he actually memorized the map on how to get there on FOOT…like I said, it is a miracle!  

Back to Eddie and Oysters…we walked the mile to Eventide…a mile because Eddie got lost. Yeah, his memory is not as good as it use to be…nor his directional compass.  I  had pregamed this place and knew it was both popular and did not take reservations except for tables of 6 or more…on Resy..two weeks out starting a midnight.  It is a smallish affair…think the size of our living room, dining room and foyer, with a bar area/shucking area about the size of my kitchen work space.  There were 3 picnic tables inside, ledge bar seat by windows and standing ledges on the back wall.  There are 10 picnic tables outside that could seat six, so I guess that is what a reservation would get you.  It is 30 degrees outside, sunny, but not on our side of the street.  We do not own clothing for this kind of weather…another one of those passenger identifiers.  No cute puffy jackets on Team Pickle…we would look like the Michelin men…so thin windbreakers with long sleeved cotton shirts, it is.  We arrived at the hostess stand and put our name on the list-30 minutes if we wanted to sit on a bar stool in the window, 2 hours for picnic table seating inside.  There were few hardy souls sitting outside, so instead of walking for next 30 minutes until I receive a text, Eddie plopped down at the first picnic table facing the door, and gave the hostess his glare.  It worked, old people on outdoor picnic tables telling incoming customers of how long the wait would be (yes, he did that).  I think it was all of 5 minutes.  Eddie still has the power to intimidate people  a cold stare…no cane needed.  

Now for the Oyster review.  East coast and Gulf Coast oysters are on the same branch of the animal kingdom chart, but they are so different.  Gulf Coast oysters are large, with heavy shells and only truly salty and safe in the cold months of year.  East coast oysters are smaller, with petit shells and have different salinity based on the type.  Eddie opened with a dozen of 2 each of the chef selection…plus a lagniappe of two common NE oysters.  He determined the pink striped variety was the best and ordered a second dozen along with a lobster roll dressed with brown butter.  Service and  barstool turn over is fast…you are not going to hang around, it is slurp and go kind of place.  I had a blue tuna roll and cup of clam chowder.  Eddie was a happy camper when we walked/skipped back to the ship.  Miracle, right?

The other activity of the day was presenting ourselves to the CBP (US Border patrol) in the cruise terminal.  Instead of waiting until the end to stamp your passport, they want to do it in the first US port that your ship makes.  We have done this numerous times in numerous countries, so this was not something new.  I guess they are looking for random gray terrorists among us.  We were given rather vague instructions on how this was done, but found out from the dining room manager that it would after the CBP people had eaten their Hamburgers with lobster, which he had scheduled to be ready at 11:30.  Like I said, it is a small ship, no secrets.  

When doing this in the past, there are line lice…just like on airplanes…don’t want to wait until it is their turn…jump to front.  Nope, not happening here…this is a group of color within the lines baby boomers.  We wait until we are called…no terrorists, no line lice.