Home Again

My father always said -- and I mean, always -- after we had been away somewhere, "It's nice to go, but it's better to come home."

Yes, indeed. I am so very happy to be home from our most recent motoring excursion. Three years ago we were gone 30 days on a trip out west, and I now wonder how I did it. We were only gone two weeks this time, and I was ready to come home by day 12.

It was a wonderful trip, however. We saw many fun and interesting sights and a great deal of spectacular scenery. We drove through Ontario and Quebec to Maine and then ate our way through New England on magnificent seafood. Haddock is now my fish of choice.

I visited six states I had never been to before (Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut) and added seven capitals to my collection -- those six, plus Albany, New York. I also added Nos. 98, 99 and 100 to my list of casinos visited.

By sheer serendipity we ended up in Kinderhook, New York, where we saw the home of President Martin Van Buren, and in Plymouth, Massachusetts, we took pictures of ourselves at Plymouth Rock.

We also visited Lubec, Maine, the eastern-most point in the contiguous 48 states. Having been to the western-most point, in Washington State, it can now be said I have spanned this country from one end to the other.

As for accommodations, we stayed in ten different hotels, and, on the whole, they were fine. I have, however, been able to determine from first-hand experience that the level of one's satisfaction with any hotel depends almost entirely upon whether or not the location of the toilet-paper holder puts it within easy reach.

Yes, I am glad to be home.