The Trip of a Lifetime: July 29 to August 7, 2022 - Queen Mary 2 and the Ride Home

July 30, 2022: Captain’s log: star-date 104; The Atlantic Ocean 50o 26.3N 013o 43.9W: Course 276: Speed 18.9 Knots
I’ve had Wi-Fi and Verizon problems since we set sail, so I didn’t get to post yesterday’s blog until this morning, when I finally worked them out. I got a big breakfast this morning. Eggs, sausage, mushrooms and potatoes, but didn’t finish even half of it. I don’t want to retreat to bad habits. Hopefully I won’t expand my stomach on this cruise and gain all my weight back before we reach New York.
Running will be a challenge each day, so it’s extra important I don’t overeat. There is no track on this boat. Deck 7 is designated for running. There are berths below it, so you aren’t supposed to run until 8:00 AM. I usually get up at 5:00 and out there when I don’t have to maneuver around walkers and “wanderers.”
Plus, we set the clocks back an hour last night. I went to bed at 1:00 AM my time and woke up at 6:30 ship’s time. We set it back another hour tonight, so things will get even worse. My plan is to take the stairs and keep my food intake down.
The drink package was going to cost us $850 (everyone in the stateroom has to get it), Roz is a one margarita a day gal, and I would have had to drink two gallons of beer a day for us to break even, so we don’t have it this time. I mean I’m up for a challenge, but don’t want to go into rehab when I get off the boat…
I went to the Shakespeare Playwriting Workshop, which was given by actors from the Royal Shakespeare Company. Here are some things I learned. In Shakespeare’s plays, characters have and share their deep dark secrets. In most modern plays they don’t. Your character has to have a hope and a secret. You can tie these to a prop. We did several exercises with props and writing. Also, when you introduce a second character, there should be a conflict.
Then I went to a piano recital. The guy is really good. The theme today was moonlight. He did a Mozart sonata (in C kershel 330) where he played some discord chords like Thelonius Monk. It’s amazing how much the music isn’t that different if you listen deeply. There was a Shuman (the Van Gogh of classical music) piece with some discord too.
There was a Chopin piece that made you feel at peace but with underlying violence, and of course Claire de Lune by Debussy and all three movements of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. I never paid much attention to the last two movements because the first may be the greatest peace of music in western culture. I think Beethoven was the Shakespeare’s of music and the first movement is his Romeo and Juliet.
I had high tea this afternoon and we dressed formally for dinner, although we didn’t go to the evening gala. Roz’s foot hurts, so she didn’t want to dance. We went to a harp recital and then later I heard an Irish folk music duo do a set. The music on this boat is first rate. Best on any cruise I’ve been on.
And Old Peculiar is my go to beer on this cruise I always have one. Duvall was it on the way over here On Fathom it was Paulaner Salvador.
Now back to reflecting on the trip. What I disliked the most was having a plan every day. I had little free time. I like to think about things and not go go go every day. I’m retired. I also got tired of eating out. If it was my trip, I would have cooked more. Learn local cooking and then apply that. I also felt we visited too many large cities and too few small towns.
Roz called small towns, “the middle of nowhere,” and said, “There’s nothing to do there.” So we went to big cities and planned and did stuff and dealt with enormous crowds of rude people. It hasn’t been restful. But it was an adventure, not a vacation and I had a great time. I can rest when we get home. As Warren Zevon said, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” By the way, he is now resting.
I also disliked woke hotels. They do everything “for the planet”… You know it’s okay to cut costs to increase profits for your stockholders. They only clean your room every three days, you guessed it…to save the planet.
They don’t have a front desk at some of them. There is a COVID-19 checkin. If you don’t do it in online before arriving they have you check in on a computer in the lobby (to protect you from “the COVID”). In one of them we were called citizens and signs told you how to be a good citizen.
The staff are generally not helpful either. Roz asked an employee if she could leave mail with her and she described what the London mailboxes looked like and told her they are all over the city. I went to a pub in London for a pint and the beer glass that was so thin it was hard to pick up and it leaned over when you set it down…but it was to save the planet, not make it cheaper to produce. It’s all bullsh*t.
We also ran into a good amount of racism. If you are in a store shoplifting, the camera catches you in a crime and you can be prosecuted. But store owners don’t want to do that so they follow you to prevent you from committing a crime. Well, they don’t usually follow me, but guess who they do follow…the person they think is in there to shoplift…Roz. Hmm. I wonder why they pick her. It couldn’t be the cold of her skin.
But when they follow someone around the store what they are doing is accusing the person of being a shoplifter. If you asked me in early July 1997 if racism was still prevalent in the world I would have said no. And then I started dating a black woman. When we were in separate aisles in a store and I need help I can always find Roz and ask the employee pretending to straighten up the display near her.
And it’s everywhere. We were in the Cayman Islands and a young black woman started tailing Roz. My wife said, “Does your mother know your job is following your own people around a store?” We normally just move on when it happens. Why give money to bigots? It even happens in Josephine Baker embracing Paris and “We never legalized slavery mate” London.
The worst are the oriental shop owners in Madrid and Paris. One lady tried to physically push Roz because she put her finger into a package of sheets to see what they felt like. I stepped between them and her push fell short. But it isn’t just whites and orientals.
In 2017, when we lived in Coral Gables, Hurricane Irma was heading our way and we took a walk through the neighborhood to see if everyone was putting up their storm shutters (an eight our ordeal to get them up and down), so we were looking and pointing. This Cuban lady said, “Excuse me, but do you live around here?”
I called her a racist *sshole. She jumped into her Benz, got on her cellphone and tailed us from a distance until we were out of “her” neighborhood. An in the interest of being all inclusive, the other day we were in a thrift store in Southampton and a little Arab girl spit on Roz. Several white women walked past her and got no spit.
So, my white friends, you probably don’t see it. I didn’t. But it is still there. What can be done about it? I don’t know. That is above my pay-grade. I just know I hate to watch my wife go through it.
Yeah, the boat ride is when I tell the rest of the story. Great adventure but a lot to deal with along the way.
Ciao

July 31, 2011: Captain’s log: star-date 105; The Atlantic Ocean
The WiFi was crappy last night because we sailed through some weather, so I once again was late with the blog. Also, even though I bought the upgraded package for $266, it doesn’t seem to be posting my videos. I don’t know if it is queuing them or if they are just being deleted. There was foam in the morning, fog in the evening and overcast skies all day. I haven’t gotten to sit on our balcony yet. But it’s all good. I will.
There were no Shakespeare activities today so I was bummed. There was a Christian fellowship scheduled at 9:00, but no one else but me showed up. We went to a nondenominational church service. They sang nautical themed hymns like Abide in Me. The sermon was about a priest, Thomas Byles and a pastor, John Harper on the Titanic (not a joke, man) who brought passengers to Jesus as the ship was going down.
It was inspirational. One of our plans that fell through on this trip was attending church in different locations. Sometimes we didn’t find one that interested us, and other times things just came up. We will pass 300 miles north of The Titanic’s resting place on August 3rd.
Our last meal before setting sail was at a hotel on Oxford Street in Southampton. The people we sat next to at dinner last night are from there. They told us 400 people from that street alone lost their lives. Whole blocks of people from the city perished.
While we were eating lunch today at one of the lounges, the singer/guitarist did Take it Easy and it took me back to hitchhiking to California in 1972. I was actually getting a ride that took me through Winslow, Arizona when the song came on the lady’s radio. So much of this journey is about remembering ones of the distant and near past.
Roz was tired pretty early, so I went out and caught a jazz trio in one of the lounges. They were very good. This ship doesn’t have what I call method musicians. They are real. Other cruise lines have people who learned to play instruments like the guy living in his mother’s basement with a guitar, who can play Stairway to Heaven better than Jimmy Page, but nothing else.
When the set started there were only real jazz fans there, but a half hour in the noisy bar crowd descended on the lounge. It didn’t ruin it, it just changed the vibe. Then I sent to see a piano lounge act, and he was also a step above the piano bar guy on a normal cruise ship. There are three pianists on board and they are all good.
This guy did Edelweiss, and it took me back to my youth. I don’t remember if we did in the Hackett Elementary School Glee Club or the All Philadelphia Boys Choir - but I know I did it. Then he did some tunes from South Pacific and Oklahoma; songs my mom sang while she was cleaning the house on Saturdays. I will be doing a video on that this fall. Stay tuned.
He ended by doing Rhapsody in Blue, at some point rolling it into Bohemian Rhapsody and back to RiB, then using the very gentle ending of BR.
Now back to reflecting on this adventure. The biggest insights I learned from are these. Pilgrim, the road is long and you can’t see around the bend, but walk on. Enjoy what appears to be sh*tty, as well as what appears to be amazing. Also, enjoy the mundane tasks. You are doing them in another part of the world. You are doing them differently than at home, or maybe just doing something the same but trying to figure out the instructions in another language.
Laundromats are often in the sketchier parts of town, but you are getting to see things that most tourists don’t. We also stayed in some none tourist, lower class areas, but we seldom felt in danger.
Great beauty has been built on the backs of a lot of poor people by a few wealthy people. My temple of God is way more beautiful than a house of worship made by men’s hands. We saw a lot of great beauty, but what man has made is nothing when compared to what God has made. My example is always Las Vegas, which man made and the Grand Canyon, which God made.
If you scooped up Vegas, which is beautiful and glitzy, and dumped it into the Grand Canyon, which is awe inspiring, you would stand on the rim and wonder what that small pile of rubble is at the bottom. It’s not close.And the Grand Canyon never got someone to lose their rent money on false hope.
Sometimes what you stumble upon is better than the dream you chased to a destination. Marrakech wasn’t the highpoint of the trip, although it was the “destination.” Some places were chosen because they were in between two planned stops. Bilbao and La Rochelle come to mind. We could have chosen any of several cities near them, but we didn’t. And they turned out to be spectacular.
There is a toilet paper I observed several times in Spain that is like the blue sheets they dispense at gas pumps to wipe your windshield. It’s white, so it isn’t that. It was just weird. Sometimes you have to adapt to weird things. When walking through a city, stop in places to see what they are. That’s how I saw an opera in Bern.
Haircuts: - buzz vs. clip. Getting a haircut makes you feel clean, but getting buzzed is like a massage. I got buzzed four times on this trip. In Barcelona, Fez, Madrid and London. Someone once told me I’ve lived a fascinating life. It doesn’t happen by accident. If you haven’t lived a fascinating life up to this point, start doing it today. As my friend Diane said, “Be different. You only live once.”
The best expression(s) of the trip category. Roz: “We’ve stayed together this long because no one else would have either of us.” Frank: 1. “Things will look different tomorrow “(and they always did), 2. “It’s all good” (and it always turned out to be). And. 3. “Oh no,! Of course this thing is on airplane mode!” That was every time I tried to use my phone for something on the street. I’m sure I will have more insights as I continue looking back on these 111 (estimated) days.

August 1, 2022: Captain’s log: star-date 106; The Atlantic Ocean
I ran on Deck 7 this morning. It was cold with cross deck winds of 54 knot (62+ MPH). It was an adventure to say the least. I finally got to sit on the balcony today. It is very windy and cold. I won’t be able do do any instructional videos until the weather improves.
We will be sailing close to Cape Race, Newfoundland in a couple days. I always had a fantasy to do a North Atlantic crossing on a sailing vessel from The Hebrides in Scotland to Saint John, Newfoundland. I guess this is as close as I’ll get and that is really okay.
We’ve sailed from Fort Lauderdale to Barcelona, Vancouver to the Hawaiian Islands, and to start this trip, from Fort Lauderdale to Rome. This is the best so far because it is as close to my fantasy as I’m going to get and this is an ocean liner, not a cruise ship. As I keep telling Roz, “This is a long bus ride over the water.” It’s August 1st and it’s cold out there.
The fantasy formed when I was a cop. I decided to read every book about the sea I could get my hands on. Moby Dick, The Bounty Trilogy, Two Years Before the Mast, Beautiful Swimmers (about the crabbing industry in the Chesapeake Bay, The Boat Who Wouldn’t Float by Farley Mowatt, and many, many more. I already loved the sea, having spent summers in Stone Harbor. Reading those books expanded that love.
I went to a Shakespeare event today. Meh. It was show tunes and love themes from the Bard. I actually fell asleep for a bit. Tomorrow is a workshop. I’m hoping that will be better. Then I went to a Buddy Holly lecture. It’s amazing the songs he did and the influence he had in such a short time. Bob Dylan won the Nobel prize in literature in 2016 and he started his acceptance speech by thanking Buddy Holly for his influence.
The Beatles and Stones both did covers of his tunes. He Invented the structure of the rock band; two guitars, a bass and drums. And one of my favorites (along with the Beatles and Stones), Declan Patrick MacManus took the name Elvis but the look of Buddy Holly and morphed into Elvis Costello.
I had formal tea again and then headed to one of the lounges to hear some folk music. While waiting for the band to show up I had a Ron Zacapa thinking back to Guatemala, and since I went there twice I made it a double. I went there with a class from the University of Miami an 2012 and then Roz and I went there for a month in 2012, so I could research and write my thesis. Great memories.
There was a boat race on TV. It reminded me that I used to follow the Americas Cup when Ted Turner was piloting. I’m not into sports that much anymore. They generate a lot of emotion expended for little value gained. Ilook back fondly on my days as a fan, but don’t miss them.
The folk duo did Blowin’ in the Wind. That was one of the first songs I learned on the guitar. I will always be talk first and go to war only if attacked after talking. That song and serving in the Air Force and then on the mean streets of Philly as a cop turned me into a peacenik.
Most people who always want to get into a war, never put themselves in a position to be in one and also want your children to fight in them; not theirs. The heroes I know all want war as a last resort. Amen!
They also did a Django Reinhardt & Stephane Grappelli tune that I had on an album many moons ago. Tonight Roz went to see a movie and I checked out the jazz trio again, and capped off the night in the piano lounge.
I want to start my reflecting this evening by talking about the cultures we experienced. Spain was the first “mayhem” culture we visited, with people butting in line to get on buses and elevators. No manners, It also seems like everyone smokes and they light up right next to you, even in restaurants. They will go outside to do it, but stand in the doorway so you smell it even inside. And, if you sit outside they will fire one up right next to you. And there was the racism, but that was everywhere we went except Bern and Amsterdam.
If the chaos in Spanish culture is controlled, then Moroccan culture is uncontrolled. In Casablanca they drive and walk very rudely. It’s like bumper cars. My favorite video is one of four cars turning left, side-by-side, onto a single lane street. Nobody smiles and speaks, that is until they can make money from you. Then you are their best friend.
Cab drivers all over Morocco are very aggressive salesmen. They want to be in your life and show you the “real” Morocco. Marrakesh is mellower than Casablanca. Fez, Rabat and Chefchaouen even better. May takeaway from Moroccan (Arab) is putting your hand over your heart to show gratitude and express that you are sorry. It was hard not to do that myself, but I didn’t want them to think I was a phony.
France is France. I have a love hate relationship with Paris. I love the city, but the people…not so much. La Rochelle was mellower. I remember in Biarritz, during our honeymoon - 20 years ago - that the people were welcoming and tolerant of my poor French, but not in Paris.
Nothing stood out about Swiss and Dutch culture, accept they were more accepting of Roz. They were very aggressive walkers, like in the other countries; walking right at you and then doing that “shoulder swerve” move at the last second. It’s like everyone is in a hurry all the time. They walk right in front of you. From what I saw, collectively it’s a continent (and Morocco) full of rude *ssholes. But individually, I met an awful lot of nice people.
Spoiler alert. Half of my ancestors came from England, so maybe I’m predisposed to favor that culture and I did. People say hello and excuse me. Walking down the street isn’t a matter of life and death. When you say something to someone, they will come back with something like “smashing” or “lovely” or “cheers.” It was my favorite. I almost felt at home.
People just seem angry, over there and in the US. COVID-19 lockdowns have turned us all into selfish brats. Cyclists over there are pushy. Cars may yield to you, but bikes think you need to yield to them. We didn’t visit one country I would like to cycle in, and if you know me, you know I like to cycle.
My all-around favorite city was Cadiz, Spain (I would move there) but the Blue City in Morocco is simply stunning and was the most beautiful. I probably had the most fun in Amsterdam, but more about that on star-date 108. La Rochelle, France is very cool. And Toledo, Spain was so awesome it was worth putting up with the excursion.
Barcelona let us down this time. Before, we stayed near the beach and had a great time. This time we stayed in a yuppie neighborhood and had an okay time. Paris too, this time. We stayed so far from everything that it took us forever to get anywhere.
My favorite sight was the Alhambra. Hands down. The Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca was pretty spectacular too. We went to so many great museums, that it would be hard to single one out as the best. What pops into my mind is seeing Van Gogh’s Sunflowers at the National Gallery in London (it was like when we saw the Mona Lisa at the Louvre in 2006) and discovering Dali’s sculptures at the Dali in Paris. I’m sure, when we get home and start looking at the multitude of pictures and videos I took at them, that other museums will stand out.
Cheers!

August 4, 2022: Captain’s log: star-date 109; The Atlantic Ocean
My hip bothered me some yesterday, so I hiked the foggy, rainy deck this morning. We have been enveloped in fog almost this entire voyage. North Atlantic crossings can be like that. By the afternoon it was almost sunny and most of the fog was gone. There were people hanging out on the decks, stunning and funning.
There was a documentary on a TV I walked by about an artist/diver named Philip Gray, who is billed as an extreme underwater artist. This was about him painting at an ancient city under a lake in China., although, he has also painted in shark infested waters and under icebergs as well as on Mount Everest and in rainforests.
The little I saw looked fascinating. When I get home I am going to try to find stuff on him on YouTube. He takes a pallet, brush and team of divers and paints what he sees. It’s not something I would buy, but the story is very interesting.
I went to the last Shakespeare workshop, which was on language and rhetoric in acting. They showed exercises to help you own the language of Shakespeare as an actor. They used the “Once more unto the breech” speech from Henry V.
I liked the workshops but was disappointed they didn’t act out any scenes from actual plays. Like last night was masquerade night and they didn’t do the Holy Pilgrims dialogue from Romeo and Juliet. It happened at a masquerade ball…jeesh…duh…and that may be the most beautiful thing ever written in the English language.
We attended a presentation on the Beatles, which was chock full of good information. He had clips from the early days, even back as far as the Quarrymen. He also did one this week on Elvis, Roy Orbison Buddy Holly (which I saw).
This is our last day before reaching America. Tomorrow is my 69th birthday. Wow! I’m as old as dirt. In fact, I attended dirt’s christening… The original plan was to celebrate at Gato in New York City, but the logistics would be a nightmare, so we did it today. Happy birthday to me! It was a quiet celebration, with Roz falling asleep by 8:30, which is 1:30 AM Southampton time.
Today I want to reflect on US versus them stuff. Showers - US. We had some weird shower systems to deal with on this journey. Toilets. I prefer the square European toilet to the round American one, but that may be because my ass is square. Cars. I always liked smaller cars, so Europe
Driving. Most of the driving I was involved with or observed was crazy everywhere we went, although they seem more patient out on the highways in Europe than in the US. I prefer the US. Restaurants. Street food in Spain and Morocco are cafes and small restaurants, a lot like the Yellow Green Market, if it was out on the street. There were no food trucks or carts until we reached London. I like both.
Underwear. US, hands down. European underwear is horrible. I know, I’ve had some in my rotation for most of the trip. I can’t wait to get home and burn it. Trash. The US definitely. We never figured out how they even do trash in Morocco. Maybe the flies eat it. In Spain you take your trash to the dumpsters. In London there were bags of trash on the streets, but not that much.
There are three kinds of travelers. 1. Those who believe everything is better in the US. 2. Those who believe everything is better outside the US. 3. Me. I say, “Viva la difference!”
So the bags are packed and outside the cabin. The alarm is set for 4:00 AM, because we pass the Statue of Liberty at 4:15. Big day tomorrow. We are ready, willing and maybe able to roll down I-95, all the way to JAX Beach. Hope they will let us back in the country!
Frank

August 5, 2022: Captain’s log: star-date 110; Fredericksburg, Virginia
The ship reached Brooklyn this morning. We passed the Statue of Liberty as we entered the harbor. It took my breath away. I thought about what was going through my ancestors’ hearts as they saw her for the first time.
The Statue of Liberty (Liberty Enlightening the World; is a colossal neoclassical sculpture. It’s made of copper, and was a gift from the people of France to the people of the United States. It was designed by French sculptor Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi and its metal framework was built by Gustave Eiffel. The statue was dedicated on October 28, 1886.
The statue is of Libertas, a robed Roman liberty goddess. A broken shackle and chain lie at her feet as she walks forward, commemorating the national abolition of slavery. It is a symbol of welcome to immigrants arriving by sea. We reciprocated by presenting France with a smaller version, which rises from the Seine. When I think about the Statue of Liberty, three events pop into my head.
The first was remembering my spinster aunts, Elsie and Babe taking me to see it as a little boy. Maybe I was five or six. I think we even got to go up to the crown. I would never do that now, but I guess I was fearless as a kid. I remember thinking how enormous it was. They called it “the Statch.”
The second was when Roz and I were dating. I signed up for an open water swim in the Hudson River on the Upper West Side. On the way up, I detoured to Jersey City to see the Statch from the Jersey side. First off, you are looking at her butt and she’s no J-Lo.
I told Roz I was moved almost to tears because my ancestors passed by her on their way here, and she said she wasn’t moved at all, because her ancestors weren’t given that option. She understood my point of view and I understood hers. That’s another thing that statue represents.
The third was when we had Roz’s birthday dinner July 14, 2006) in a boat on the Seine. We reached the statue as the Bastille Day fireworks started and the band struck up “New York, New York.” The boats have glass roofs, so you have the best view of fireworks. Now I’ve sailed past both statues and I have a fourth Statue of Liberty story.
We had a driver take us from the terminal in Brooklyn to Newark Airport, where we rented a car, which we are driving home. We met my brother Richard at a Travel Plaza, off I-95 in Delaware. He brought steak sandwiches from Tony Luke’s in Philly, my favorite shop of them all. Way better than Geno’s or Pat’s. Remember: don’t be a mammaluke, eat at Tony Luke’s! It was great seeing him.
And the sandwiches were delicious. I’m actually eating my second half cold Somehow it’s not really called Tony Luke’s anymore, but it’s the same folks running it. Google maps took us on a fascinating trip down memory lane today. I assumed we would head South, hit I-295 down to Delaware and then I-95 home.
Oh contraire. We did NJ-22 West and then US-1 South through some of my IRS stomping grounds, like Princeton and Trenton. Then across the “Trenton Makes…,” Bridge, which is near Scudder’s Falls- named for one of my ancestors. In Morrisville, Pennsylvania, we got on I-95 and took it through my hometown, Philly, all the way to the rest stop.
But the pleasant surprises didn’t stop there. She diverted us away from accidents on I-95, by sending us to US-301 South, across the Bay Bridge and into D.C., before finally getting us back on I-95. We made it to Fredericksburg, Virginia, stopped into a wookie bar 7-11 for some snacks, then crashed and slept the sleep of weary travelers.
Good night

August 7, 2022: Capain’s log: Star-date 111; Home
We set out for home this morning, with the intention of making it at least to Savannah. Traffic jams, rerouting because of accidents, and some other “life hands you lemons” events turned the 10 hour trip into 15. But I took a trip down memory lane three times. Google maps rerouted us to US-301 through part of Richmond
Boy did that bring back a memory. It was 1972 or 3 and I was hitchhiking from California to Philly. Outside of Vegas I got a ride with a woman and her two kids. She was driving a large, older car towing a 30 foot Airstream behind it. She was going somewhere north of Philadelphia, but was stopping in Southern Virginia for a week or two before heading up there.
We had a great time crossing the country and she saId she would drop me at my parents house if I wanted, but she really needed to spend that time in Virginia. We had become good friends during the journey. If there had been social media and/or cell phones back then, we would still be friends.
Imagine how cool it would be to get a 3,000 mile ride to exactly where you want to go and have a couch to sleep on during it. Something similar happened the first time I hitchhiked to LA. My friend Tick and I were going to Venice, California and got picked up by a guy in Indiana who was going to an apartment a few blocks from us. I may have shared that on this blog.
The amazing thing is that people would pick you up back then. Imagine a woman with two children doing that today. Well, I was in a hurry to get home and had her drop me off a little south of Richmond, near I-95. It was a Sunday evening. I quickly got a ride that “went south” in a hurry.
We introduced ourselves to each other and the fellow said, “You sound like you’re from up north.” I told him I was. He said that people from the north think people from the south are stupid hillbillies. I told him I wasn’t like that but he kept getting angrier. Eventually he told me he would prove he wasn’t stupid, stopped the car and said, this is where you need to get out. He said “I-95 is right there. Have fun getting home.”
It was the “hood.” I stood at the entry to the I-95 North ramp for a couple hours. Many people passed, but none stopped to pick me up, so I took a chance and went onto the interstate itself; past the sign that said “Hitchhiking prohibited.” I stuck my thumb out and hoped someone would stop for me before a cop went past. Not five minutes later a state trooper pulled over and arrested me.
He took me to the jail and that’s where I spent the night. The next morning I was given a trial and the judge said I was going to be put on a bus to the “Great city of Washington D.C. where everything is free,” and that I would be free there to continue my trip north.
The deputy led me onto the bus in handcuffs and then took them off. I had no trouble getting a seat. The next reroute was through the town of Wilson North Carolina. I thought, “Something is really familiar about this place. Then I saw the train tracks and it came back to me. I took Amtrak to visit Tom, when he was in the Martines. The train went through the middle of this town.
It may even have been where I got off. The cool thing is that it is “old South,” like Sparta, Mississippi from In the Heat of the Night, with a train running down Main Street. Then we passed the Beaufort, South Carolina exit of I-95 and it brought back another memory. When Tom graduated from bootcamp at Parris Island, I took my son Frank and Tom’s friend Josh with me to go see him graduate.
We got off at this exit and rented a cabin at the KOA. I had a pickup truck at the time, so I drove my dad’s car down there. You know things don’t happen by chance. They happen for a reason.
This trip started as Roz saying, “Let’s go to Marrakech for a week for my ** birthday” but turned into so much more. I decided to blog and share it on social media, which I had been staying off of because of all the toxic political and societal stuff on there.
We aren’t party animals or night creatures, so I had time to blog every day. It was fun taking videos and photos and then writing about our day. I took pictures for different purposes: food for me, Sam and Tom; rocks for Sam; graffiti for my son Frank; well thought out photos for Tom (I love it when I really compose a shot and he likes it on Facebook), flowers and cars for me. The videos were just plain fanciful; Hey look at that!
The beautiful flowers were caused by the time of the year, which made us miserable with hay fever, but it was worth it. I didn’t make the blog about the hotels we stayed in or a bunch of pictures of us. I wanted it to be about the places we experienced
Finances: (like Thoreau did in the first chapter of Walden). This trip cost a lot. Dreams often do, if they are stretch dreams. I can’t put a dollar amount on it, because we haven’t added it all up yet, but trust me, Roz will. The secret of being able to follow a dream like this is to have low fixed overhead, a small house, low taxes on it and no mortgage. Prepay your bills by six months. I learned that trick from my dad.
Sure, some of the money we spent these 111 days was from savings, but some was monthly income, which we would have spent most of at home too. And I finally started shooting videos telling the story of my life. That is the next chapter of this adventure. I have been making videos for my grandchildren, which tell the story of my life in my words.
I will finish doing them now that we are home, and I am also going to do some music videos called, “The Soundtrack of my Life,” where I will play and sing songs that have influenced me at various times of my life in various ways. What started as a blog will morph into a legacy left for those coming after me. I will continue doing this until I run out of things to say (yeah, right) or I can’t do it anymore.
I probably wouldn’t have travelled this much if I hadn’t met Roz. We’ve been through so many adventures. We moved to Miami in 2010 and to JAX Beach in 2021. We have taken several cruises to the Caribbean, Latin America, Europe and Hawaii. We have done four ocean crossings. We traveled to Costa Rica (twice), Guatemala (twice, at least for me) and Canada.
My favorite part of the trip was jogging early in the day. I would get to see a place uncrowded and get to know my way around. I want to thank those who followed us, read the blog and commented on my posts.
See you soon!