Having left Nantucket, there is the undeniable sense that we are now homeward bound. Sure, we're 2,000-odd miles from home and we've 12 more days or so in which to see Boston, Philadelphia, Washington D.C. and goodness knows where else - but it is now impossible for me not to see our own house at the end of the journey.
Laura disagrees with me. And she can't remember today's mileage. So, I get to make up:
Today's Statistics:
- New States: 0
- New Licence Plates Spotted: 0 (At this rate we'll be going home via Bismarck, ND).
- Games of UNO played on the Nantucket ferry: 2.
- Ounces of prime rib steak served per portion at dinner: 32.
- Balloon sculptures (hats, dogs, swords and so on) accumulated: 5.
- Number of scary clowns: 1.
- Breakfast: Canning residence, Nantucket.
- Lunch: picnic aboard the ferry.
- Dinner: Durgin-Park, Boston.
Today's Discoveries:
- Inexplicably, the gift shop at the Plimoth Plantation sold enormous wrought iron keys.
- Even more inexplicably, Chris wanted to buy one and would accept no substitute nor brook any argument.
- It is possible to dine in a restaurant in Boston that is older than the Republic of Texas.
- One of the Pilgrim Fathers went to Peterhouse, Cambridge.
- Boston is still enraptured by the American War of Independence - we have been advised to pretend to be Welsh, Australian, anything other than English if we do not want to be teased mercilessly by tour guides.
- William thinks my description of the execution of Guy Fawkes is the most disgusting thing he's ever heard.
- 90% of American trees and plants are not native to North America. Now think about how we complain about the grey squirrel.
- A 40,000 year old oral tradition entitles you to a unique perspective on the most recent 1%.
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