Day 20: We made it!

What do you know - it worked. We live in Paris.

We landed in Paris at about 6AM. We got our luggage by 7AM. Our landlord is away for a vacation, but he gave his friend the keys and emailed us his phone number. We called the friend from the airport with Skype. Unfortunately, the guy doesn’t speak English very well, but I managed to communicate to him that we’re on the way to the apartment. He, on the other hand, said he’ll be there at 10, which meant we’d be stuck outside the apartment for a while, and all my attempts to convince him to come earlier were blocked - I’m not sure whether by the language barrier or his laziness.

We got to the apartment at about 8, and even though we were exhausted we had to wait for him for two hours, with our luggage, in the middle of the street. Eventually, he arrived, and little earlier than expected.

So here we are. We don’t have air conditioning, we don’t have an oven, but if you stick your head out the window, you can see the Eiffel tower. I really can’t believe we made it. Julia starts working on Monday, and I’m supposed to start in the beginning of the month. No more “Person on the Road” for a while. I might post updated in the future, maybe on a different blog. I really don’t know -  so thanks for following so far, and stay tuned.

Day 17: Train wreck

We were both a nervous wreck when we woke up. We fly to Paris the next day, and we still don’t have our passports. We called lady B, and she said she didn’t go to the consulate to look for our passports, since they haven’t returned her email. This was one of those times when my implosive Israeli side has to battle his well-trained American counterpart. “It was my understanding that you are not waiting for their response, and just planned to go there. Our flight is tomorrow. I’m not sure I communicate well how stressed we are.” Let me translate to this my Israeli friends: “would you get your fat ass up and MOVE!”. As you can see, I have learned a lot during my two years here.

Lady B. had a brilliant idea – she would cancel her meetings and go to the consulate. Duh. An hour later we got the report: Julia’s passport was sent the day before. That’s already weird and distrurbing, since we can’t track the envelope on-line. Please don’t tell me they have lost it. The good news about this were that lady B read to me the tracking number as was given to her by the consulate, and it was the same number we had, so somebody had a visual on that envelope at some point. Well, whatever. Where’s MY passport?

“Ah,” said lady B. “I have it! They didn’t want to sign you visa because.. (something about a missing document) so I told them it’s OK, they approved it, and gave me your passport which I will send you right away!”

The fascinating thing here is that if we hadn’t insisted the she goes herself, that morning, without waiting to be invited, to the consulate – I would have never known there’s a problem. My passport would have not been sent to me, with or without a visa. I would just be sitting like an idiot in Baltimore waiting for something interesting to happen. I couldn’t believe it.

So now we wait for the envelopes. In the meantime, we went to the Baltimore railroad museum:

Lot’s of trains, lot’s of history of trains, two very big mode train layouts. Not enough technology to my taste, but it’s still a pretty cool place:

In the afternoon we checked our envelopes trackings, and it was bad. My envelope was already tracked, but Julia’s wasn’t. It’s either somebody in the consulate is just being lazy taking the box with letters to the post office, our that the envelope is indeed lost. We called lady B. again. She was getting impatient, which really annoyed me, because patience and support were exactly the things I needed. She said that if the passport doesn’t show up by noon the next day, I should fly alone, and Julia will join me when the passport shows up. Very saddened, we started adjusting ourselves to the idea.

And just as we were about to turn the lights off at night, I decided to try just one last time. We couldn’t believe it – BOTH envelopes were tracked! Making their way to Maryland, and should be in our hands by noon, less than nine hours before the flight.

Day 16: Philadelphia, PA

So the day before we checked once again on our visas’ status on-line. Finally, it had changed from something like “what visa are you fucking talking about” to a more “oh yeah, we have made a decision”, not stating what it is exactly that was decided. We assumed, of course, that had there been a problem, they would have let us know. So now we need to track the envelopes that we gave the French consulate in which our passports should be sent back to us. However, nothing yet at that point.

We didn’t want to arrive at Julia’s parents’ place before they do, so we decided to make a detour and stop by Philadelphia. We found a bar in which the special of the day was Philly cheese-steak sandwich and beer. Of course we had to go in, even more so since we both never had a Philly cheese-steak sandwich. I liked it. And the beer.

Philadelphia is, well, interesting. Very different than any city I’ve been to:

We walked on and stepped into the big indoor marketplace, and wandered there for a long time. Then we went to see the liberty bell, but only from the outside, since we didn’t want to stand in line. We also checked out a religious bookstore. Just for fun. We were pretty stressed about the visa situation at this point. We called Lady B. I’ve mentioned her before as the lady who takes care of MIT students going on internships in France. We’ve been trying to communicate our stress since this whole thing started going wrong, but from some reason she is not getting it. We explained the situation to her – We’re going to be in Baltimore, and our visas are processed, but our passports, which are still in Boston, haven’t been sent, and if they are not sent by tomorrow morning – we’re fucked. She said she’ll email the consulate and ask to come herself, pick up the passports, and mail them to us. We fell slightly, just slightly better, knowing that she has waken up and might take some actions.

We left Philadelphia and drove to Ellicott City MD, near Baltimore, where Julia’s parents live. Her sister, along with her corgy dog were there. We had dinner and went to bed seriously frustrated.

Day 15: Corning, NY

We started the day and went straight to the Corning Museum of Glass. Holy crap, that place is huge. There’s a contemporary art exhibition, a history of glass exhibition, an entire area dedicated to the science of glass and so much more. There were some live demos of artists, including two glass blowing demos. In one of these demos, kids submitted pictures and the staff made it for them. We got to see them make a lady bug – the kid was so happy!

Well, here are some pictures, naturally of glass musical instruments:

and finally, a glass chess board and pieces – Hasidic Jews Vs. Roman Catholics:

Other side:

On the Jewish side, please pay special attention to the dude waving a chicken over his head (Kaparot for Yom Kippur) anb the Mohel (the one circumcising a baby).

We practically had to force ourselves to leave. We started driving towards Baltimore. We got hungry pretty late, and local restaurants in… whatever town we were, were already closed. We decided to pop my KFC cherry, and yes, it hurt pretty bad. Who eats that crap, and why?

We spent the night at the Comfort Inn in Bethlehem PA. That’s pretty much it.

Day 13: Julia Joins

I woke up early and drove to Deer Isle. Julia packed her bags and the pieces she made during the workshops, we said our goodbyes and left. We stopped at Searsport for lunch, and we also bought a piece of blueberry pie which we ate an hour later as we were pumping gas. We then drove to Boston. Well, Julia was driving. I slept.

First stop in Boston was the Media Lab. We returned the camping equipment I borrowed, the stove and the cooler, to their rightful owners (thank you Andy B.! Thank you NovySan!) and then we drove to our old apartment, to fulfill the secret mission.

Before leaving Boston, We hid four boxes with our stuff in the basement of our building, and we made copies of the keys, so we can access the basement and get our stuff as we travel from Deer Isle to Maryland. I couldn’t take these with me on my first trip there simply because there was not enough room in the car. So there, this is the secret mission.

Sadly, it was raining when we arrived to Boston, and by the time we were carrying our stuff from the basement to the car, it was pouring. We were finally done with that, but the came the hard part – installing the bike-rack on the back of the car. By the time we were done, we were soaked.

It was pouring two years ago as well, when I arrived to Boston in the middle of the summer. Back then I was surprised. This time I just went like “yeah, thanks a lot, fucking Boston. Goodbye to you too!”.

We drove for about an hour in our wet close until we had enough. We pulled over in a service plaza, changed our clothes in the bathrooms. We drove some more until we hit Sturbridge MA. We found a cute restaurant called the Whistling Swan, where there was a guy singing with a guitar. The food was great too. We went back to the hotel and went to bed.

Day 12: Portland, Maine

I woke up at Gorham. When I talked to Julia on the phone on the previous night, she suggested I drive to Portland ME, and so I did. As I checked out from the motel I realized that a substantial percentage of the motel owners I ran into were Indians. I wonder why.

I passed this sign, and thought to my self that it is a small world, after all:

Portland was really cool. Very artsy, with very interesting people on the streets – I saw a group of youngsters, probably around their twenties. They had backpacks, sleeping bags and guitars. They were dressed in militant/cartoonish/apocalyptic attire, like dusty cargo pants and torn tank tops. Pretty much the way I used to dress when I was their age. One guy had on his shoulders a cat on a leash. I just had to follow them. They went off the main street into an alley that led to a parking lot. There they got into a tiny backyard of one of the building, where they stopped for water and smokes. I had to stop following them and move on. Oddly, I saw some more of these nomads later, some actually had frying pans dangling from their backpacks. Maybe there was a Mad Max fans conference. In town.

I passed by a bong store. One of the contractors/artists whose works are sold in the store also had this glass laser gun for sale:

Then I stopped at Monument Square in the downtown area, where a live music show was starting. They band was really good, and the guitar player reminded me of the guitar player for the Girafot, Mr. Erez Russo. You be the judge:

I then left Portland. On the way, I passed this gas station. Something was just ending there that looked like a modified cars expo. Everybody was getting ready to leave, but I still managed to get some pictures:

I drove some more until I got to Belfast ME, which is just a couple of hours away from Deer Isle. I got a room at the Gull Motel, and then drove downtown, where I got some beer and food and watched the Korean women’s volleyball team getting their asses kicked by their American counterparts live from the London Olympics.

Day 11: First we take New Hampshire, then we take Berlin

I woke up in the camping site, and made some breakfast – Eggs and Israeli salad. I took the tent down and went to to the bathroom. Somebody left there a brochure about the Orono Bog Boardwalk, so naturally, I drove there. It’s pretty cool.

Although there were signs telling you not to go of the boardwalk, I saw a dude off the boardwalk, taking pictures. I think he was a little embarrassed, so he started explaining to me some of the planets. Like the these pitcher plants:

They have hair in the inside, and water on the bottom. An insect that goes inside cannot get out because of the hair, falls into the water and drowns. The plant extracts enzymes into the water which digest the insect and feed the plant. Cool, right? The dude came from Florida to visit his girlfriend and his daughter. He’s a VAC technician. He has been taking pictures for the past 20 years, and he learns about the things he’s taking pictures of. That’s why he knows so much about pitcher plants.

I opened Google Maps. And picked Berlin NH as a new destination, with no good reason. I stopped in some picnic area, emmm, somewhere, got out the stove and made lunch – fried spam sandwiches.

I drove on and got to Rumford falls.

I then made it to Berlin. There was nothing there. I didn’t want my journey to Berlin to be for nothing, so I found a bar and went in. There were not many people there, but I was soon picked on by the drunk Cathie. She asked what my name was, and then she inquired about my last name. She yelled “Shaccchhaarrr !!!”, which reminded her of the word “shocker”, and therefore started yelling “two in the pink, one in the stink!”. I learned something new, and if this is new to you, dear reader, you can learn something new today. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shocker_(hand_gesture). You’re welcome.

She turned out to be pretty cool. She’s married to a bartender at that bar, and they have a daughter, one year old. She’s working at her dad’s garage, where they disassemble old cars and sell the parts. We ended up having a few beers together, and Cathie, who’s veeery talkative, went on and on about how un-ladylike she is (cuz I couldn’t figure that out,  when she yelled “two in the pink, one in the stink”, with her fingers pointing to her vagina and her asshole, right?), and how much she doesn’t care, which made me think that she might care a little bit. Anyway, she was a handful. But fun.

We departed when I was getting too drunk and she had to give some attention to her friends in the bar. I drove the nearby Gorham, which is a really cool town, got a room there and went to bed.

Day 10: Camping!

I started driving without a purpose. I reached Grant’s Cove, where I saw this caterpillar hanging in mid air. I thought this was a wonderful opportunity to experiment with Julia’s fancy camera.

Me and the caterpillar played there for quite a while. I then decided to visit Bangor. The downtown area of Bangor is really cute. I walked around a bit and visited the UMASS art museum, where I was really impressed with the work of Chris Natrop. He laser-cuts stuff, and he’s into lilies.

I then had lunch in some pub. The Weather was great, and I thought that it’s a perfect time for camping. I found a Walmart, where I equipped myself with beer, vegetables, eggs and mosquito repellent and headed to Pushaw Lake Campground. I set up my tent as I got there, since I really didn’t want to deal with it at dark. I managed to set it up surprisingly fast, considering the fact that I really didn’t remember how.

I then sat with my computer outside the office for a while. The three of you that are actually reading these posts, you might have noticed that I was a few days behind. This was a wonderful opportunity to catch up. When I got hungry, I went back to my tent and tried to light the stove that Andy, a colleague from the Lab, lent me. It’s not one of those conventional stoves – it runs on fuel. Any kind of fuel. I fought with it for quite a while until I realized I had the thing upside down. By then, it was clogged with gas. The best way I know to get rid of gas is to burn it, so I started a fire, and then dipped the stove in it. It worked like magic, and I was on my way to making shakshuka (an Israeli dish, basically tomatoes and eggs). It was getting dark, and since the camp fire is confined to a fire ring, the light from it is not very helpful. I managed to make the shakshuka, some salad, and Turkish coffee in the dark, and I was very pleased with the results. And with myself…

While I was eating I thought to myself that I will have to wash the dishes in the bathroom, and the path is dark. If only I had a flashlight! But wait, I did have a flashlight. Why was I cooking in the dark in the first place? Man, It’s so hard being me.

Day 8: Nervous Nelly

After all that driving the previous day, it turned out I had only about 2 hours of driving left to get to Haystack.

I passed this place:

Doesn’t sound like a good business plan. No wonder it’s for sale:

In Deer Island I passed by a sign that said “Nervous Nelly’s jam and jellies”. I noticed that sign a week ago, when I brought Julia to Haystack. My attention was drawn to that sign also due to two human like sculptures. This time, I decided to stop and check it out. I tend not to use this expression , but – OH, MY, GOD!

There were several small shacks, filled with weird, cute, and disturbing sculptures of humans, engaged in daily activities. I can’t explain it, so I took pictures of EVERYTHING.

The sculptures are by a dude called Peter Beerits. He also writes stories about these characters, illustrates them, prints booklets and sells them in the store, where Nelly sells her amazing jams, jellies and chutneys. Some of them are very unconventional, like hot tomato chutney and jalapeño. I know they’re amazing because you can taste them all.

I left that place very inspired and with a strong desire to stop moving around and get a house in the country, where I too can make crazy stuff. Maybe in a few years.

Then I got to Haystack. It was so great seeing Julia again. She took me to see the work that is being done in the different shops. It’s so awesome and creative. What’s really amazing about it is that people not just learn techniques from wonderful artists, they also get to play around with the craft.

We started driving to Boston, not before I took Julia to see the sculptures at Nervous Nelly’s. We discovered a whole are in the back with even stranger sculptures.

We got to to Needham, a suburb of Boston, where my friend Ran lives. He gave us a great room for the night. We filled some forms regarding the car accident I was involved in, made sure we have everything for the meeting at the French consulate, and fell asleep.

Day 5: Baltimore

My Cousin, Guy, lives in Rockville, an hour drive north of Baltimore. We both left Israel to live in the states about the same time - his wife got a post-doc position around here in NIH and he followed along with their daughter. We haven’t been in touch in a while, from way before we moved to the states, so I was really happy for this opportunity to  meet him. We said we’d meet today at 5PM, which left me some time to kill in Baltimore.

I drove down to the inner harbor. It was very touristy, but slow at the same time.

I started to wonder around, ended up in a sketchy street. When you’re surrounded by strip clubs - you know you’re in the wrong place. well, if it’s 11AM.

This car had “Bitch” keyed on the front door. Seems like someone went to have some fun and discovered his girlfriend found a new job here:

I googled my options, and decided to walk to the Baislica - the first Catholic church ever built in America:

Inside were maybe two people, sitting on the benches and mumbling to themselves. I noticed the wonderful air-conditioning and let a soft “thank you Jesus” out of my mouth. I sat on a bench and browsed the books in the pocket of the seat – They have the songs there, with the notes and the lyrics and all. After 10 minutes or so I raise my head and found out that some 30 more people joined us, and that service is about to begin. Crap.

The dude said some stupid thing about the kingdom of God being like fishing net. We got up and sat back down a few times, we mumbled (we’ll, I didn’t, but I don’t think anyone noticed) some stuff.

And then the dude had some bread which he started breaking, and some wine that he started pouring. That is a not good at all – what if he comes up to me and tries to stick bread down my throat? I can’t eat that! I’m Jewish!

Luckily, everybody got up and walked to him to get some bread and wine, which was a perfect time for me to get up and leave.

I didn’t want to be a bad Jew and not drink any Christian people’s blood that day; I decided that a good replacement for Jesus’s blood, which is wine, would be St. Patrick’s blood, which is beer, so I headed to look for a tavern. I also reminded myself that people always eat his flesh and drink his blood, but what about breathing his spirit –that wonderful cool air-conditioned air inside the church? I had plenty of that. I think I’m all set.

I got a couple of beers and some chicken sandwich at the Water Street Tavern, while I was watching the a Olympic games.

When I was done, I went back to the car and started driving towards Rocksville. I got there about an hour early, so I killed some time in a plaza, eating terrible ice cream I bought at the Dollar Tree and checking out Hobby Works, an awesome hobby store. I love radio controlled cars and airplanes, model trains such! That’s one of the big disadvantages of moving around - you can’t engage in hobbies that require having a large work-space, your own tools, and storing space.

I then went to my cousin’s place. His parents, my favorite uncle and aunt, had just arrive from Israel for a visit. They didn’t know I was coming so it was quite a surprise for them to see me. We talked for an hour or two, and when they collapsed, me and Guy left drove to Georgetown to get dinner and some beers. We talked about our work, compared living in Israel and in the US, and discovered we’re both very passionate about atheism. Too bad we drifted apart all these years, but that’s life. I’m really glad I went to see him.

Guy and his wife insisted I stay for the night, which was a great idea. Their 6 year old daughter was kind enough to sleep with her parents, leaving me her tiny bed. It was so amusing waking up next to a tiny tea-party table.

Day 4: Made it to Baltimore!

Today I mostly drove. I had a lot of driving to do in order to make it to Baltimore on a reasonable hour.

I’m not completely sure whether this is due to missing a turn or not, but I did end up driving through NYC. Manhattan, to be more specific. Of course I got stuck in traffic, and then I noticed that I’m not doing very well on gas. The fact that the gas meter was dropping rapidly while I was on a narrow, one lane bridge caused me a minor heart attack, but somehow I made it through, got out of NYC, and stopped for fuel at Paterson, NJ. It didn’t seem like the best place in the world, but I still wanted to park and hang out. Only when I realized I don’t have any quarters for the parking meter, I decided to drive on.

I stopped for lunch at Newark, NJ, in a Jamaican, well, place. they sell food and tickets for Reggae concerts. I had brownstew (?) chicken with rice and beans and some cabbage salad. That was pretty good. It was fun watching everybody play “don’t-stare-at-the-bald-white-guy”.

Next, I left the highway to visit Bethlehem PA. No special reason. turns out there’s an awsome music festival there soon. Other than that everything I ran into was closed. Maybe I didn’t go deep enough into the city, but I didn’t find it too exciting.

The rest of the drive through Pennsylvania was beautiful. I passed through small place like Kutztown, which looks just as cute as its name sounds. There’s a fair there on the 13th, which means we might catch it on our way from Maine to Maryland right before our flight.

I stopped for some coffee, ehem, somewhere, which was good since I got to witness this little place:

Witty, isn’t it?

And about an hour or two later I made it to Julia’s sister’s place in Baltimore, MD. Since her sister was not back yet from work, I took a seat on the bar in Dimitri’s Tavern, right around the corner. They serve peanuts, but there are no bowls for the shells. People just use the floor:

Also, a beer is only 1.75! I had three beers, and then went to Julia’s sister’s place, where I unloaded our stuff. Success!

Day 3: Goodbye Boston

Today, was so stressful… I slept so bad last night, mostly because I went to bed drunk, but also since I had to sleep on the old sofa. Arggghh! The damn sofa! As I was waiting for Eyal (also known in the Lab as “the OTHER Eyal”, since I got to the lab first) I found in may email inbox some good news - we have a contract for the apartment in Paris. The bad news - I had to pay the fees to the agency, and my credit cards would not let me spend that amount. So I made some phone calls and sent some emails and hopefully by tomorrow morning it will all be resolved. Why do I deserve all this stress?!

One noteworthy call was with my bank, as I was asking them to allow me to charge my visa with more money that I have.

- “Sir, you have a $1000 limit on your card.”

- “I know, that’s why I’m calling. I need more.”

- “Well, I can transfer money from your checking account to your Visa account”.

This is totally not the way things work in Israel. I’m so confused.

- “I think that’s exactly what I want”

- “How much do you need ?”

- “Like 900 something Euros.”

- “Sir, I need an exact number.”

- “Hold on, I have the email… I need 994.09 Euros.”

- “Sir, I can also transfer US dollars”

- “O.K., so however that much it is dollars”

- “Sir, I don’t know how much it is.”

Is she kidding? also, if she calls me “sir” one more time….

- “hold on, let me google that for you.”

I was so pleased with myself…

I was then comforted by some more good news - we have an appointment at the French consulate on Monday. We actually have one appointment for the both of us, which I think is a good sign: it means that the French dudes understand the urgency of our case.

The other Eyal came and helped me take the stupid sofa to his place, form where he’ll get rid of it on garbage collection day, basically saving my ass. In Israel it would have been so much easier getting rid of a couch. I’m not sure what that implies about Israel. Or America.

Now the apartment was finally empty, and it was time to return the keys to the landlady. I also gave her a cup Julia made as a present, and in return she gave me some fruit for the road:

I really don’t know what the small things are. She said they’re Chinese. I believe her (Edit - they turned out to be lichees, with a peel that is much darker than I’m used to).

I started driving towards Maryland. I stopped for lunch at Harry’s, in Westborough, MA. I got the “Boneless chicken breast deluxe”, also known in Israel as Schintzel.

Then I drove some more - a lot more actually. I made a stop in a visitor center, right at the border of Connecticut. There I saw a gate that said “Please close gate behind you”. That means you can go through! I went in to discover a catch-and-release trout fishing area. Being the only only one around, I started walking along the riverbank, and after ten minutes or so sat down, got a book from my backpack, and read for a while.

Yeah, I know it’s very pretty. I was also thinking how in Israel, a place like this would be a big thing: ooh - water! and green trees! and we’d probably have some stories about this place from the time of the Romans, and the crusaders, and the war of Independence, and they would fence it and charge money at the entrance. Here, in America, it’s just a stream where you catch trout.

After getting tired of reading and getting bit by mosquitoes, I continued driving and ended up in Danbury, CT. After checking in at the local Super-8 motel I went to the Molly Darcy bar. It’s an Irish pub, with the heavy wood and the Irish bartender with heavy Irish accent complaining about his Irish health - the whole deal! Had a couple of beers and the spinach salad while I was watching the Olympics. In fact, two TV screens were showing the Olympics games - men basketball and women football (soccer, if you’re an American). on two other TV screens were more American sports - baseball and poker. The differences in the  appearances of the participants is astounding - everybody is so fit in basket ball and soccer. I don’t need to describe baseball players, football players, or, god forbid - poker. Makes you think, doesn’t it ? Are baseball and basketball more popular in America because you can play them even if you’re fat, or were these sports invented for an obese nation?

While we’re at it, am I the only one who finds it absurd that McDonald’s and Coca Cola sponsor the American Olympics teams?

Day 1: A night in Searsport

We are all packed. We started driving at about 10AM towards Maine. It was a typical summer day in New England - which basically means rain. We stopped for lunch in Augusta. Too  bad it wasn’t a Tuesday:

You gotta have some seafood if you’re in Maine. Americans, however, deep-fry everything. They will deep-fry their own families, given enough oil:

By the late afternoon, we got to Deer Isle. Haystack has amazing facilities for teaching weaving, graphics, photography, dying, glass-blowing, and working with woos, metal and clay. There is also a fab-lab, where some of our colleagues from the Media Lab will be mentoring.

After saying my goodbyes to Julia, I turned back to find a place to stay for the night. Entering Deer Isle was easy, but leaving was hard, as I had no 3G reception, and could not navigate with my phone. After about an hour of driving in circles, I remembered Julia keeps an old-fashioned map in the car. I managed to escape Deer Isle.

I missed a turn and found myself in Bucksport. The weather was starting to get clearer, and I got this beautiful panorama with a rainbow and some mist over the  Penobscot river.

Next stop was Searsport. We drove by it on our way to Deer Isle and it looked really cute, with several motels, a flee market and a model ship store on the main street. I decided to spend the night there, and got a room at the Yardarm Motel. Searsport is tiny and sleepy, and as I got settled in my room it was 8:45PM, which made finding dinner a little tricky. I found the Mermaid bar in a nearby inn. Besides the staff, I was the only one there. I had some beers and a pretty good maple broiled salmon. The owner asked me what brings me to Searsport. I told her the whole story, and she was blown away. We talked some more about technology and cognition - it turns out she studied software engineering, and decided to give up her career at some point to become a stay-at-home mom. When the kids got older and she found herself in Searsport, she started running the Inn.

Some guy walked in and said he and the boys are going squid fishing - or at least I think it was squids. What ever they were fishing , they had to fish it at night. Turns out this is what the guys here do for fun. I should have joined them. Next time. I had to get some sleep.

How did I get into this mess?

The original plan seemed perfect: Julia goes away to a two-weeks glass blowing workshop in Haystack, a craft school in Deer Isle, Maine, while I go on a road trip. When we are done, I will pick her up, then we drive to her family in Maryland, and then fly to Paris, where we  both have four-months internships waiting for us, as we both graduated from the MIT Media Lab. Lovely, isn’t it?

Well, not exactly. somebody messed up. In fact, several people did, and as a result, we still don’t have our visas. worse - we don’t even have appointments in the French consulate to apply for visas. You are supposed to have your appointment at least two weeks before your flight. today is July 31. Our tickets are for August 15.

And so the new plan is:

1. drive Julia to Maine and drop her off
2. drive back to Boston and return the keys to the landlady, thus officially becoming homeless
3. drive to Maryland with our stuff to drop off at Julia’s sister’s place
4. hopefully, have an appointment by then
5. drive back to Maine, and pick up Julia
6. drive to Boston and apply for visa at the French consulate
7. drive to Maine, drop off Julia back at the workshop
8. drive around the states until the workshop is over
9. drive to Maine, pick up Julia
10. drive to Boston, for a secret mission, to be revealed here when accomplished
11. drive to Maryland, where we will stay for a couple of days
12. fly to France
13. live happily ever after

I will try to post here at least once a day, and since this is the second day of this adventure, this post doesn’t count, I owe you two more posts. here we go.