On Friday night, Jordan and I celebrated our last night in Maine with a lobster feast at Young’s Lobster Pound (note, we’re also drinking Belfast, Maine’s own “Lobster Ale”):
Saturday we woke up and checked the weather reports to decide whether to drive home to NYC as planned. On the one hand, we didn’t want to fall prey to the media hysteria. Maybe the storm wouldn’t be all that bad. We could handle some wind and rain, right? If the power went out, we’d light a candle. And then, at least we’d be home, sleeping in our own bed.
But… what if Irene really did hit Brooklyn head-on? We read about the damage that 60 mph winds can cause and just thought, why risk it? Why drive right into a potentially dangerous situation?
So, after much hemming and hawing, we studied a map and chose an inland destination: Burlington, Vermont, a town I’d been curious about visiting, anyway. We booked two nights in a dog-friendly hotel with wifi, and off we went.
The drive was GORGEOUS — an unexpected, glorious treat. For all I knew, the whole journey would be on bland highways, but no — we passed forests, rivers, lakes, ponds, streams, and mountains. When we stopped to use the bathroom at McDonald’s, even the parking lot offered a bucolic view:
We pulled into Burlingon at 5:00, walked and fed Cosmo, and then set off to explore the town. We saw the sun setting over Lake Champlain, and then went to an even better Lake Champlain — the one that makes chocolate (which just so happens to be my favorite chocolate on earth). After stocking up on four different kinds of dark chocolate, we were off to A Single Pebble for a delicious Chinese meal before staggering home and falling into our big, fluffy hotel bed.
Not a bad detour.
Have you taken any detours lately — literal or figurative? How did it go?
My heart goes out to the loved ones of those killed by Irene.