There was no desire in me stronger than using that system in Boston. The crazy one-way streets around the rivers, the hideous ramps, the lack of any signs, for anything, anywhere. They would all be solved by my expensive car.
I had booked a room at an expensive inn in Rockport. The place is a famous resort hotel that I found on the Internet in some crazy hotel search engine. I couldn't book online, but nailing the room with an toll-free call was quite good enough. I knew we'd arrive late and be tired and it would be miserable to have uncertainty about a place to stay. Especially for Liz, who was flying out that very day.
In the dark, US-1 took us towarsd Peabody wher I could catch I-95 directly. Before getting to the junction, though, I stopped at a Shell station and gassed the car up. Liz bought us some soda and we were on our way. My aerodynamic little monster cut its way through the night almost silently, it seemed.
I missed Liz, and it was great to have her with me again. I was surprised that she stayed awake for most of the trip. We talked and caught up on the little details that we missed being apart for two weeks. It was fun.
And so, we drove. We stopped at a welcome center at the Maine line, and Liz confirmed the navigation system's advice about finding the hotel. We went to the bathroom and got back on the road.
Even though we drove straight through, stopping only twice, it took us three hours to make it north. Around 1am, we rolled into the resort. It wasn't very well-lit, so it was a bit difficult to find our way around. We didn't look at any of the amenities and couldn't see any of the signs, so we unpacked the car and clibmed up into the room and went straight to bed.
We were both very tired, and both very relieved that our vacation together had started.
Last modified on 30 August, 1999.