A rather quiet morning as we got sorted for the journey to Boston. We got out to the Riverside Park and met up with my old friend David Feige for a pre-lunch drink.
Then rapid sorting out of rental car – the last time I drove an automatic was in Bosnia in 1997; I had to call the company to ask how to get the key out of the ignition once I’d stopped. they asked, rather sweetly, “Have you put the car in Park, sir?” I hadn’t. All was well.
So we set off, from the Island At The Centre Of The World to Cambridge, Massachusetts. It took, to be honest, a bit longer than the train would, even though I did not try the pointless detour to Providence, Rhode Island. The traffic in southern Connecticut was awful, and poor U, having been happily gnawing an apple for the first half of the journey, then brought most of it back during the second half, which meant more stopping.
Then arrived in Cambridge at R and T’s, getting slightly lost in the final stages but T talked me through the final stages in the manner of the grizzled veteran talking to the tyro pilot in an air disaster movie. And we slept very well.