I have gone from one extreme to the other – from the floodlit parking lot in Jersey City were the street lamps were almost as tall as the skyscrapers, and I needed an Ava Gabor eye-mask to get to sleep, to a State Park in the Finger Lakes where nary a street lamp exists, and the brightest light in the park is Venus in the night sky overhead. Continue reading
I have now been in the Liberty Harbor RV Park for 23 days. The park is an abysmal gravel lot, but they don’t call it “harbor” for no good reason – the redeeming factor is the water views of the Hudson River and million dollar boats on two sides of the adjoining harbor. Continue reading
Some may wonder why on earth I would buy an RV to get out amidst nature, only to drive it to New York City and pay to park it in a ridiculously crowded, expensive gravel parking lot. But it’s all about the sailing…or is it? Continue reading
My dear friend always says “Summer’s not over till I say it’s over!” I like that philosophy. I like it even more now that I can say “Summer’s not over till I can’t drive any further south!”
When people ask me what I miss most about New York, my answer is always “good Chinese food, and the beach!” The latter usually gets a double-take. Continue reading
During my last few years in New York toward the end of the 90’s, they began to develop the entire West side waterfront into a series of green spaces, all connected by a bike path. By the time I left, it was possible to ride a bike from Battery Park (near Statue of Liberty) all the way up to the George Washington Bridge, (aka “The GWB.”) Continue reading
I am in New York on the anniversary of 9/11. I didn’t plan it that way. In fact, last year, I tried very hard to put it out of my mind altogether and not wallow in the sorrow. “Time to move on,” I proclaimed. So when I planned on making it to New York by September, it was for the sailing. The anniversary never once entered my mind. Continue reading
I knew what I was getting myself into with a 3 week stay in Liberty Harbor RV Park. An absurdly over-priced gravel parking lot, with 270 degrees of the worst view in RV Park history. Continue reading
I can honestly say that I don’t remember if I have ever had a “staycation” before. At least not since 1979 when I began my traveling career with Braniff Airlines, I can’t recall a time when I didn’t purchase an airline ticket, a bus ticket, a Lonely Planet Guide, or at least pack a bag in prep for vacation. It feels very odd Continue reading
Chincoteague is a big island with a small town atmosphere. Too big to walk end to end, but still manageable enough to get anywhere you want by bike. Much more subdued than the Outer Banks with no pretentious golf carts recklessly roaming the streets. There are plenty of artists and local bookstores in the town to offset the T-shirts, trinkets, and miniature golf courses. Continue reading
I looked at the map for my halfway point between the Outer Banks and my next destination, Chincoteague, VA. Right smack-dab in the middle was the Great Dismal Swamp. PERFECT! Who could resist a place with such a name? Continue reading