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 9: Meeting at the consulate

We woke up early and drove to the train station, where we took the train to the Back Bay in Boston for our meeting in the French consulate. We were so disappointed to see that we waited all this time just so we can give our forms to some clerk. My fantasy of getting our visas on the same day was shattered. The clerk said that we might get our visas on time. Might. I was so frustrated.

We took the train back to Needham and started driving back to Deer Island. Well, Julia did most of the driving. I fell asleep.

We got back to Haystack just in time for a session in which the assistants showed and talked about their work, which I think are awesome. Then I stayed for a while to watch Julia blow glass. I can’t believe I haven’t done this until now. I tried taking some pictures, but also stay out of the way, and also I was so intrigued by the process, so most the pictures that I took were pretty bad. Maybe except this one:

I left after about an hour, and drove to Bucksport, this time without getting lost. I got a room at a motel there, and decided to check why the car smelled funny. Indeed, I forgot a piece of cheese in the cooler. The ice melted and dissolved some of the cheese, so now the contented of the cooker was a lot of cheese water, a swollen chunk of rotten cheese, three bottles of beer covered in cheese water, and some disgusting plastic bags. There’s something symbolic there, with the disappointment at the French consulate and the rotten cheese in the car. I took the cooler to my room, where I cleaned it with dish soap, took the rotten cheese chunk and threw it in the forest behind the motel, washed the bottles of beer and packed the plastic bags in a clean trash bag. The hazard was now contained. I took that bag with me as I drove into Bucksport to look for a pub. I couldn’t find one, but I threw the hazard into a trash can on the street and went back to the motel where I watched trash TV until I fell asleep.

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 7: Vermont

I woke up at the motel in East Springfield. I didn’t even know what town I was in. The motel had a diner where I got some breakfast and found out what town it was. I had to get Julia by the afternoon of the next day and still had 15 more hours of driving to do in order to get to Deer Isle.

I made a small detour to Featherstonhaug forest:

I arrived to Bennington VA, when I saw a sign: “obelisk - 1 mile”. ooh! oblisk. I drove for another mile, when I saw another sign: “obelsik - 1 1/2 mile”. That doesn’t make much sense, does it? I kept on driving  and found myself stuck in traffic in the main street of Bennington. as I was waiting for the car in front of me to go, a car hit me from behind. A 22 year old kid in a white convertible ford mustang was distracted by some girl waving at him. His front was smashed. Julia’s car suffered minor damage to the back fender. We waited for the police to show up. The officer asked me where I was from, told me he served in Iraq, and we exchanged our impressions of the middle eastern weather. He then told me I can go, but the kid had to stay. As I got into the car I overheard the officer say the words “not supposed to drive…”. I think the kid got himself into some trouble,

I turned around to look for the obelisk. I saw a tall, pointy structured and decided to ignore the signs and just go there. It wasn’t the obelisk. It was the Bennignton War Memorial.

I paid $3 to go on an elevator to the top, 200 feet high, where you can get a view of Vermont, Maine and New Hampshire.

I left Bennington, got to Wilmington, where I discovered what the obelisk was. These are small  stone pillars that mark the Molly Stark trail. What a disappointment.

I had lunch at one of the taverns, where the patrons were playing some gambling dice game, with the bartender managing the game.

Outside Wilmington , I stopped for a second to see what the Molly Stark trail was:

It was getting pretty late and rainy and I decided to drive a couple of more hours, get some food for later, find a motel and have dinner in my room, but I lost data reception on my phone. Where the hell am I?

I crossed the entire state of New Hampshire, and there were no motels on the road, which was too bad, because I passed so many tiny bars, exactly the kind I like. When I got to Maine, I started finding motels, but they had no vacancies, one after the other. Turns out there are a couple of big music festival in Maine, and it’s a weekend. In one motel the guy at the reception said they’re making phone calls to other motels to find rooms for people, but there’s nothing.

At this point Julia called. It was about 11PM, and she couldn’t believe I was still on the road. I’ve been driving for about than 10 hours now. Luckily, Julia had internet connection. Once again she proved how awesome she is, and five minutes later she called to inform me she booked what was probably the only available room in New England, at the Rocky Ridge motel, just outside Stockton Springs. having no data reception, she also gave me directions. Indeed, the girl rules. Saved again!

Day 6: Pennsylvania

It was time to head back north to pick up Julia’s for our meeting in the french consulate in Boston. I wanted to take a different route than the one I used to get to Baltimore, so following my cousin’s advice, I started driving towards the finger lakes in NY.

In Pennsylvania, I drove along the Susquehanna river. I saw some Amish women having a picnic on the river bank.

I thought it would be nice to have my own lunch on the river bank, but had no food. I then passed an Amish farmer’s market, and then a general store. I started driving back, picking up some bread, cheese and salami in the general store, vegetables at the farmer’s market and looked for a place to eat, not before accidentally stepping into an auction of produce.

 

I stopped in a parking area on the river bank, made some Israeli salad, and my lunch was ready.

I kept on driving, and found myself in “Reptiland”. I had to go in and check it out. It’s a small zoo dedicated, of course, to reptiles. They had a couple of crocodiles, tons of lizards and snakes, a butterfly garden where you hang out with a bunch of butterflies flying all around you, and the ugliest animal I’ve ever seen - an Alligator Snapping Turtle:

In the back, they had some robotic, full scale dinosaurs. One was even squirting water out of its mouth.

Because I got distracted from my course so much, I reached the finger lakes much later than I planned to. I stopped at Taughannock falls.

I then took a walk on a trail. In Israel, when you walk along a marked trail and that trail splits into two different trails, those are marked in different colors. Here, they both have the same color, making it impossible for you to know whether or not you’re walking in circles. Also, I lost the trail markings after a few minutes. Just as I realized that - I saw a deer. Now - my instinct told me to follow the deer, but then the voice of reason spoke to me - I will not fall for that, I’ve watched too many movies. When you’re lost, the last thing you should do is follow the deer. It’s a bait, luring you deeper into the forest, getting you even more lost, and turning you into the perfect victim for the Taughannock witch, or the Taughannock chainsaw murderer. I turned back and found the trail.

After walking for way too long, I found myself in an open field, with two shacks. One of them had a creepy drawing of a man on it. I assumed this is where the  Taughannock chainsaw murderer lives, and adding to the equation the fact that it was getting dark and that I have lost the trail markings once again, I started walking much faster.

Finally, I found the trail, and just as the sun was setting and I was positive I had been walking in circles, I found myself back at the car. I was saved!

I drove forever looking for a motel. When I finally found one, the office was close. So was next one. The third motel I found, in East Springfield NY, had a sign on the door of the office with a phone number. The dude on the other side of the phone told me to just go into room 8. The door was open and the key was on the table.

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 2: a Cambridge Sofa

I’m pretty drunk so I’ll try to keep this short. I should also reconsider the time in which I make my posts. Perhaps posting right before I sleep isn’t the best idea.

Today was quite eventful. I woke up to find out that right next to my motel there’s a model ship kit store:

One day, when I grow up, I’ll build model ships. It seems like a real cool hobbie. besides the kits they also sell tools and books for building model ships. sooooo cool…..

I drove on the Maine turnpike, making two stops - one to eat a burger, and one to call lady B, who’s supposed to take care of our internships in Paris, and is doing a terrible job. She said she talked to the dude in the consulate, and he promised an answer by the afternoon. needless to say, he never gave an answer.

I arrived to our place in Central Square, Cambridge, in the late afternoon, and called our landlady. She asked if we emptied the apartment, and I replied that the sofa that was here when we moved in is still here. She insisted that the sofa should be removed. After fighting with her for a while I realized that I have to find a solution to this damn sofa, which turned out to be  a real pain in the ass - nobody wants to deal with old furniture if it’s not in perfect condition. The salvation army, MIT furniture exchange, the Media Lab community, the MIT computer science community - nobody wants to deal with a sofa. A fellow Israeli from the Media Lab offered assistance, and we’ll see tomorrow how that turns out (stay tuned), but that still means I will leave for Maryland only later tomorrow. well, whatever.

I then went to the Muddy Charles, MIT’s notorious pub, to meet Sharly. I first met Sharly, a post-doc physicist in MIT, right as I arrived to Cambridge, and he immediately became one of my favorite people. Not only is he kind and funny, he’s unbelievably musically talented. He brought along a friend, another Israeli named Avi  (also bald, like me, Sharly, and the rest of our Israeli gang) and together we demolished three pints of the Sam Summer ale.

I returned to the apartment, talked to Julia on the phone, and proceeded to Hi-Fi Pizza, where the pizza is a bizarre combination of  really low quality, really low price, and amazing taste.

And now, I shall collapse. stay tuned.

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.