Photo Credit - Remington Write / What’s not to love?
Travel has once again become a tantalizing rumor, but over the summer we did manage to break out of the city. Once. Now we content ourselves with “day trips” to other boroughs or long walks in our backyard, aka Central Park. Updated 11.16.21
In mid-August, we drove up to Burlington, Vermont so that my partner in life and art, AleXander, could visit his adult children there. It felt like we had a bit of a window here before Delta — and Epsilon and Lambda and everything up to Omega — really slammed things shut again. Let’s say it out loud right here and now: The pandemic is not over. Pull your mask up and back right off, Cupcake.
Here’s the one entirely predictable response from anyone learning about our trip:
“I love Vermont!”
Lake Champlain at sunset / Photo credit - AleXander Hirka - Used with permission
Everyone loves Vermont. And, yes, there is a lot to love (aside from deer ticks and the Take Back Vermont yahoos), especially in the middle of August. We are talking seriously pastoral, my friends. Idyllic AF.
We drove out to Glover to see the legendary Bread and Puppet wrap ardent leftie political messages in playful puppetry. We had dinner with friends at their house in the depths of the country and then went out to stargaze. I saw one errant shooting star and provided a questionable meal to swarms of mosquitos. I even tried out the famous Frys at Al’s French Frys next to our hotel on Williston Road (for the record, they’re not quite all that, but close).
Burlington has its charms but then we took the audacious chance of crossing the border. As of August 9, 2021, vaccinated people from the U.S. with eligible proof of a negative Covid test taken within 72 hours are free to travel into Canada again. We were a wee bit anxious arriving at the St. Armand / Philipsburg border crossing, but with only four cars ahead of us, we were on our way in under an hour.
I find it interesting that the Canadian border guards are nearly always friendly and polite while the guys with the crewcuts and uniforms on the other side are brusque and borderline rude.
Two of Montreal’s Holy Sites / Photo Credit - AleXander Hirka / Used with permission
Montreal in the summer is glorious. I’ve only been up there previously in cold weather and won’t be doing that again. During AleXander’s 20 years living in the Burlington area, Montreal was his go-to city for the kinds of fun not available in Vermont (use your imagination). He knows the city well and we stayed in his favorite hotel — again — the St. Denis.
We made our Leonard Cohen pilgrimage, finding his old home next to Parc Portugal and his current home in the Shaar Hashomayim Cemetery as well as stopping for breakfast at his favorite bagel place. There’s a giant Ferris wheel at the foot of Rue St. Denis and we got a cabin to ourselves for three thrilling rounds up into the sky. Later, we strolled the Gay Village where we stopped for delicious pasta at Toro Rosso. We also had an interesting conversation with our server about politics in the U.S.; suffice to say we found a kindred soul.
AleXander is the holder of the driver’s license in this cartel, so he was the one who had to deal with the incredible amount of construction as well as the maze of one-way streets (how did people find their way anywhere before GPS?). Two days were not enough, but we had already made reservations and arrangements for seven days in Vermont when the border opened so we were only able to squeeze this bit of time in and it was fantastic.
Our wild days of wandering the world may be over given the situation with Covid and the inconvenience of being under-employed, so it was really special and lovely to have this one week away. The drive back down through the Adirondacks really capped off the breathtaking beauty of our time away.
Clouds rising from the forest / Photo Credit - Remington Write
And then we were back home where the New York Post has filled us in on what we’d missed (stuff like the guy who took a hatchet to someone at an ATM in the financial district). Pro tip: if you want to feel at all safe walking around the city or riding the subway do not read the New York Post.
Denial is a valid coping strategy.
I’d estimated — wrongly — that there would be enough rain while we were away to keep AleXander’s fire escape garden growing. The coleus and the philodendron were ok, but his lantanas almost gave up the ghost.
The fire escape garden managed mostly ok / Photo credit - Remington Write
And because the pandemic is never enough to top off things around here, Hurricane Henri sent just enough wind and rain ahead of landfall to cancel the big Welcome Back New York concert in Central Park. In spite of having a good friend slated to perform at that shindig, rest assured that our days of standing around in a field waiting for the show are behind us.
Instead, we walked up to our favorite BBQ place at 125th Street, had dinner, and then sat out by the Hudson for a bit before making it home just before the rain.
Party boat on the Hudson / Photo credit - AleXander Hirka / Used with permission
I know from past homecomings that the city can seem especially shabby, harsh, and inhospitable at first. That’s probably because it is shabby and harsh and inhospitable. But it’s also the only place I’ve ever felt completely at home. Not sure what that says about me, but we were home.
And given the state of the world - with employers and governments ardently trying to make us believe the pandemic is over - it’s shaping up to be another long winter. I’m glad we got to have some time away because that’s not going to happen again until (possibly) getting out to Burning Man 2022.
Yeah, we’ll see.
© Remington Write 2021. All Rights Reserved.
Am I crazy or did I receive and read this very newsletter a few weeks back? I’m probably crazy.