Well, it’s the moment you’ve all been dreading. I’ve finished uploading the last ever batch of photos from the trip for all and sundry to witness and enjoy. It’s been a good run, thanks again for spectating, we’ll have to do this again some day.
Also for your enjoyment, I made another inexpertly assembled panoramic shot, this time of Santa Monica beach.
Santa Monica Beach Panorama (2804 x 431 - 437.1kb)
Finally got another batch of shots up. This time from San Francisco. There are 115 in total, so get cracking!
I’ve also made a crudely stitched together panoramic sequence of the Yerba Buena Gardens in downtown San Francisco. I’m making it available to one and all absolutely free! Hurrah!
Yerba Buena Gardens Panorama (2566 x 412 - 230.4kb)
So here I am in the airport lounge, waiting for my flight home to board. Tessa’s flight should have left half an hour ago but I’ve got another hour and a half till I can board. We’ve barely parted two hours and I’ve already had two notable experiences.
First of all, I was charged with the errand of delivering Tessa’s last remaining US mail. Of course, since the destruction of the World Trade Center, there are no post boxes within the entire LAX airport complex. Not to worry, I’ll just hop in a cab to the nearest post office, it shouldn’t cost too much. Yeah, nice try schmuck; like hell those cab drivers want to take you on a 10 dollar round trip after they’ve been waiting all day for that killer fare out to Newport Beach from some spoilt good for nothing pretty boy… tsch, noob.
So the first suggestion I received was to wait for the Renaissance hotel shuttle, which would take me to the post office for free. “Thanks for your honesty,” I happily chimed as I plodded over to the shuttle pickup point. I soon grew impatient of waiting for the fabled Renaissance shuttle, so returned to the taxi rank. After all, I had some US dollars to blow.
I was greeted by a slick, disgruntled, headset-donning driver who gave me a dirty look and sucked a few gallons of air past his teeth after I failed to believe his lies that there was a letter box “just over there.”
“I been waitin’ two hours, man! You better treat me well!” Yeah. Fun.
Anyway, I then proceeded to lose my Virgin Atlantic gold card going through security, having thankfully already secured a spot in the Air Canada lounge.
“Yeah yeah, stop whining, how was your last week in the US?”
Los Angeles: Sunday May 15th - Saturday May 21st
LA was fantastische. We arrived at our Santa Monica palace at 3pm to find we’d been left the wrong key and no clear way to get in. After struggling with the front door, back door and the lady’s chamber for a few minutes, we heard an ominous call from the street.
“Can I help you?”
Thankfully, the neighbours had been warned of our arrival and we were lucky to find Jan from down the road, all too happy to spring to our aid. While she headed off to enlist the super powers of her rock-climbing son, I summoned up the dregs of my spy-training and scoured the house for an entry point. I soon discovered a cat-flap and a pair of barbecue tongs, and triumphantly managed to extract the back door key from he inside lock. Then Jan’s son came and climbed into the upstairs bathroom window anyway just to show off. Ruin my glory why don’t you. Hmph.
After that initial excitement, we settled into our new paradise, contemplated a dip in the garden pool and instead collapsed on our beds, destroyed from the perilous drive down from San Francisco.
Over the next few days, we lived it up in blissful climes, winding things down at a leisurely pace to bring our trip to its finale. Amidst all the shopping on the 3rd Street Promenade and Hollywood, strolling along Santa Monica beach and star-spotting, (we only came away with Matt ‘Chandler’ Perry) we made time to get our culture fix at the Getty Center, meet up with the lads at E3 and watch lots of movies—including Star Wars on opening night. And again the next day. At midnight.
The Getty was spectacular, combining a shining example of modern architecture, wonderful works of art housed in the Richard Meier-designed complex, and a beautiful location all for the low low price of nothing! We really could have spent all of Wednesday there, but alas, we had prior engagements elsewhere, namely dinner and our first Star Wars excursion. The film was a great, classic George Lucas visual feast, with reassuringly wooden performances and a terrible script. It just wouldn’t be Star Wars otherwise.
After a series of late nights—we went to an awesome house/garden/LAN party in Garden Grove last night— our body clocks should be in a suitable state of turmoil upon our return but hopefully things will be back in order before too long.
Or is it just the beginning?
This has been such a wonderful trip, and thanks all for following along with the madness, albeit at a rather unorthodox pace. I’m still trying to get more photos up and linked in to these last two entries, so don’t leave these hallowed halls too soon. I expect Tessa has a few things to add as well.
Thank you to all our wonderful hosts and the amazing people we’ve met along the way, this tour would have been far less interesting without you. Please stay in touch and come and visit! Lots of love, peace and respect and all that yummy goodness.
Monday April 25th
Tuesday April 26th
Suitably rested, we met in Manhattan at the New York Public Library and strolled around the impressive book stacks, miscellaneous exhibits and vast reading rooms for a few hours before seeking sustenance and a way to pass the rest of our day. We continued through the new age shops and XXX dens of Greenwich village, briefly accosted by a ‘needful woman’ who lured us into sparing a quarter by flattery and japes: “I was gonna say: ‘Hey it’s Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston’ but.. hehe, should I say Angelina Jolie instead…” Needless to say, it worked.
Freshly conned, we traipsed on to the Hudson River before heading north along the park towards Pier 54. As we drew near, a vast peninsula of stacked shipping containers extended into the water like a half-built giant bridge of Lego. This was of course the Nomadic Museum, a mobile staging point for the photographic works of Gregory Colbert. Ashes and Snow is the first public exhibition of a lifelong project to capture the wonderful connections between animals and humans. The stunning prints were housed in a long, dark hall lined with columns made from recycled paper. Accompanying footage taken by the artist played at the chancel of this contemporary cathedral, while vast work books were on supervised display in the transepts. We stayed until the friendly guards kicked us out, but not before we had the chance to buy some overpriced memorabilia from this moving experience.
Sadly, from this point on, I fear I am obliged to rush through the rest of the trip simply to catch up. My writing style is not suited to quick day to day updates. I always feel the need to embellish and perfect so as to convey sufficient justice to my experiences in words. Thankfully Tessa is here to pick up the slack—though this has allowed me to slip yet further—so that I only need to comment on events for which I have more to add. So here, in condensed form are my experiences.
Last days in New York
We returned to the Met. I spent the entire time there enjoying the Diane Arbus photography exhibition. Rekindled my desire to take up black and white studio photography with a vintage camera. Tessa joined us in Queens for dinner with Miguel and family.
After the harbour cruise on our last day, we headed to the South Street Seaport, a shopping district I’d remembered from my first ever visit to New York with the Ertmann’s 5 years previously. We duly took advantage of our last proper opportunity to spend cash in New York.
Boston: Friday April 29th - Tuesday May 3rd
This part of the trip marked my first visit to my brother’s apartment and home for the last three years. Richard has truly made a home for himself on Boylston Street while he’s been at Berklee College of Music. His time was limited since he was embroiled in exams, but I did get the chance to drive down to Northampton with Richard and the gorgeous Shea to visit Wei, an old girlfriend of his who was exhibiting her graduation work at Smith College. It was great to see her again as the last time had been 4 years ago. We couldn’t stay long but grabbed a quick Indian meal nearby before heading home.
On Monday, we met up with Pete Sylvain, a friend I had made online and who is currently attending Salem State University. After the initial challenge of finding each other, we wandered off and began reconciling our online and real-world personas. He generously offered to drive us around Boston and Cambridge before dropping us back at the Kileys. We had much opportunity to strengthen our virtual friendship and I really appreciated his effort to come and meet a strange foreign weirdo for the first time. Until next time, sir!
Boston was great. From the Venetian charms of the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum to the delights of Harvard Square and Newbury Street. But again the people are who make this trip, and especially our kind hosts. Thanks Gus, Claire, Alicia and Kyle for fabulous evening company and cooking. We look forward to seeing you on our side of the puddle soon.
Vancouver: Tuesday May 3rd - Friday May 6th
So we flew into Seattle on Tuesday May 3rd with a few hours to kill before heading to Vancouver. I tried getting in touch with some friends in the area but continually failed to make contact. So we decided to explore a bit and headed out to the Seattle Center, where the Space Needle is housed amidst sundry other attractions. We lounged on the grass a bit and took in the scenery before heading back to the Greyhound station to catch our ride North.
We were greeted in Vancouver by my ever wonderful first-cousin-once-removed Catherine Mori (my mother’s mother’s sister’s daughter) who drove us back to Richmond, where we’d be staying for the next few days. We’d by this stage come about half way through our travels and were starting to feel the effects of weariness creep up. As such, our limited time in Canada was spent in comparable relaxation with late rises, laid-back jaunts about the countryside (driven) and lazy afternoons at the beach. I think we needed the R+R, and it was especially appreciated in such good company.
On Thursday—along with Catherine and Brian’s ‘fils ainé’ Greg at whose swanky downtown apartment we stayed on our last night—the McAnulty family dropped by to pay us a visit, the entirety of whom I hadn’t seen in years. Greg and Michele McA. run a doctor’s practice in Burnaby, just North of Vancouver while their children Chris and Lisa are embedded in the high school system. Sean—their eldest son—is quite a character who dreams of writing fantasy novels and just generally aspiring to awesomeness. It was great seeing you all again, just a shame we couldn’t stay longer.
Seattle: Friday May 6th - Monday May 9th
So back to Seattle we bussed—after rigourous inspection at the border of course “What does your father do? What book is that you’re reading? What colour are your underpants? Who cuts your hair?”—and were met by Cyrus the great (II) and Debbie Olsen, friends of the Caldecott’s and parents of the infamous benoli. We headed back to their home in Sammamish and proceeded to spend the next few days hanging out with Ben, his band, his other friend Ben and the rest of the family. This even included an admittedly leisurely hike in the woods.
On Sunday, I got the chance to explore the Seattle Central Library, a diamond honeycombed spaceship designed by Rem Koolhaas. I’ll let the photos speak for this place. I took lots.
It was strange, bizarre and satisfying to finally meet Ben in the flesh as I’d heard so much about him from his legion of admirers back home but we’d only ever spoken online. Again, we really spent far too little time in Seattle and will have to arrange a further RSVP ASAP.
San Francisco: Monday May 9th - Sunday May 15th
Righto, making headway here. Awesome views flying into the city. Lots of solitary clouds with their individual shadows painting the city and bay below. After a hair-raising drive back from the airport in an old VW van, we settled into our new lodgings and surveyed our options for the coming few days.
Thankfully our kind hosts the Dudros had a knowledgeable tour guide for a downstairs neighbour. So on Tuesday Carlos kindly took us for a field trip through downtown San Francisco, pointing out interesting architecture and providing his own fascinating viewpoint on the city. Our tour then took us across the bay to Berkeley, where we enjoyed a fine Thai meal at Racha’s followed by browsing sessions at Moe’s famous book store and neighbouring arty shops. We finished off the day with a stroll through the University of California, Berkeley campus, the historical staging point for many of America’s civil rights efforts and affluent proponent of the California spirit. Carlos, your insight and knowledge was invaluable, thanks again for devoting your day to tourism!
That evening we met up with Robert “Psyrixx” Sogomonian, an old friend I’d initially met online and stayed with on my previous solo trip to America in 2003. After a somewhat terrifying drive through the precipitous gradients of the San Francisco grid, (notice a pattern emerging here) we arrived at Ghirardelli Square. There we met up with Psyrixx’s cousin Armen (or DaFloppMeistah/Flopp) waiting patiently outside Gaylord Indian restaurant and who reassured us that the rumbling was merely his stomach and not the early-warning signs of a repeat of the 1906 quake. Needless to say, pleasantries were speedily substituted for pleasant spices as we tucked in to our delicious family style feast.
We spent the next few days exploring San Francisco alone: wandering down Haight Street where the 60s live on and a vibrant, colourful demeanour reigns; taking the cable car (a tram really) up to the Coit Tower for panoramic views of the city among other delights.
On Friday, Vivian drove us over the Golden Gate Bridge for a quick stroll through the Muir Woods National Monument, where we passed through groves of towering redwoods and felt that rush of insignificance usually found while gazing up at the rafters of a gothic cathedral. We had a lunch appointment to make so we sped back along the 101 discussing morality and the legal system. What a barrel o’ laughs we are.
We met the inimitable Melissa Ford at Star India restaurant for buffet curries and a catch-up session. I’d first come into contact with Miss Ford while she was working with my mother to co-ordinate a group of Canadian students living in Charlbury for three months. She’d just arrived in San Francisco and was looking for a place to live for the next year or so. We parted wishing each other all the best with the future and happily went on our way.
After packing all our stuff up the next day (Tessa spent her life savings at Amoeba Music) we headed out to Concord on the BART train to meet up with Psyrixx again for his birthday. The next day, we’d be hitching a ride drove down to Los Angeles where the Electronics Entertainment Expo (E3) was taking place; an annual game industry trade show where legions of my online pals would be gathering for the next few days. Tessa and I had plans to stay in Santa Monica with the Scott’s, film-maker friends of the Caldecott’s and we’d liaise with the lads (and lady) over the course of our stay.
Well that takes us to the final week of our trip, which I’ll probably talk about later. I’ll also be adding photos when I get the chance so check back with this update for linked pictorial annotations.
Phew, well that wasn’t ideal and I’m so sorry for the massive delay but there we go, I’m on holiday! Hope all is well wherever you are and I’ll be seeing some of you very soon. <3
Well here’s the first part of my attempt to catch up, written over the course of two weeks and covering a space of… three days. I know… pathetic. Bite me.
Phew, here I am, nursing a throbbing headache and my weary bones, finally attempting to recall the last week’s shenanigans. Since we last spoke, I’ve trodden many paces, swiped my fair share of Metrocards and visited enough cultural attractions to choke a medium-to-large portion of sperm whales.
The Weekend - April 22-24
As you now know—thanks to Tessa’s impressive chronicling—Ruby (aka main squeeze) arrived in the Big Apple on Friday to join us for a weekend frolic of decadence and style. Knowing I would be picking her up from the airport in the evening, and having the luxury of a grey day to fill, I set off with grand designs and a wealth of choice.
Having checked in at the trendy 5th Avenue Gershwin Hotel (http://gershwinhotel.com) that would be our home for the next couple of nights, I headed to Grand Central Station to fulfil my dreams of liberty in the new world. OK, perhaps not, but it is a rather remarkable structure. Pushing off from the terminal, I continued on to Brooklyn and whiled away a few hours at the Botanic Garden, which would probably have been even more marvellous had the sun been shining but was stunning nevertheless.
Still having some moments to kill, I made my way to the famous Brooklyn Bridge and slowly ambled across, snapping away at the gloomy harbour and its enthusiastic population of joggers, lovers and cyclists. Swinging past the ruins of the World Trade Centre, I was rudely taken for a con artist while offering to take a photo of a couple together by the site. It must have been the pirate’s scar and swarthy visage. It just struck me as an example of how untrusting people are in New York—probably for good reason.
So I trundled excitedly off to JFK to pick up my baby, who’d bravely made her way to New York on her first ever solo flight. Having recovered from the initial excitement of our reunion after a week apart, (yes, pathetic, I know) we made our way back to Manhattan and the comfort of our hotel room, complete with scary Richard Bernstein Picasso portrait hanging above the bed.
The next morning, we shuffled off to Penn Station to meet Tessa coming in from Princeton and we headed off to Union Square. I strolled around the square and caught an expensive brunch at a lovely roadside café while the girls took in the subliminal messages at the NYFA Open House.
We then headed to SoHo together and I walked about getting tired and trying to find a place to rest while mad jewellery and cosmetics shopping was going on. Eventually I stumbled upon the Apple Store and took a huge double take as I realised it was designed identically to the Regent’s Street store in London. I later learned that most of the new stores share this design and it’s just a large scale brand consistency effort. Very Apple.
After buying a few boring peripherals I returned to our rendez-vous point to wait for the shopaholics to return. We were all pretty shattered and decided to call it a day but not before Ruby remembered she had to buy an iPod, giving me a chance to pull the pair back into my geek paradise.
Having dutifully attended to our prescribed retail therapy session, Ruby and I bid ‘à demain’ to Tessa and wearily retired to the Gershwin, to get a few hours shut-eye before our evening plans. Her ladyship wanted to see Times Square after dark, so we navigated the subway towards 42nd Street and Broadway at 2am to bathe in the blinding lights and watch the endless convoy of yellow cabs speeding past and drunks lumbering home.
Sunday was Ruby’s last in the Big Apple, so we spent it at the monstrous Metropolitan Museum of Art in Central Park, trying to fit as much in as we could—a complete tour of the museum would probably have taken all week. We managed to peruse the Max Ernst exhibition for a while before splitting off in search of our own destinies until closing time, vowing to return soon.
Amid fond farewells, Ruby and I made our way back to the hotel to collect our bags en route to the airport. After an abortive attempt to see what we could of the Empire State Building, an obligatory purchase of an I<3NY T-Shirt and a failed detour to see the Statue of Liberty from the tip of Manhattan, we struggled through the Subway turnstiles to discover that all express trains had reverted to local schedules for the weekend. Panic-stricken, we ascertained that the traffic would be such that it would be quickest to stay on the slow subway out to JFK but it would take us the better part of an hour to get there. This was at 7:15. The flight being at 9.
Needless to say, we arrived at the airport to discover checking in was an impossibility, but that $95 would secure a seat on the next flight, leaving at 10:50. An exasperated sigh of relief emanated through the terminal as our apocalyptic fate was whisked from our shoulders. Ruby would return home safely that night and arrive in time to rest for her crucial university interview on Tuesday. Having seen my charge through security, I returned to Queens exhausted, my lesson learnt and already feeling the pain of missing her.
Sorry you couldn’t stay with us longer, I hope it was worth it. I’ll see you sooner than you think. <3
Hello! We’re in Vancouver now and staying with my cousin, Greg Mori in his swanky downtown apartment. Tomorrow, we’re hopping back on a Greyhound to spend the next few days in Seattle, I’ll try to bring you up to speed then, although Tessa’s done a great job of taking you through the last few weeks to make up for my silence.
Sorry about leaving you all in the dark like this, it’s despicable I know, but I’m working on it. I’ve added a whopping load of 59 new photos to the gallery to appease you in the mean time. Let’s hope I have more luck than Chamberlain.
Note: the photos are sorted chronologically so some will appear below those taken on Tessa’s side trip to New Jersey.
Update: I’ve added a further 52 photos and we’re now up to date on the imagery front!
I added some new photos from Tessa’s time at Princeton, New Jersey. I apologise for the small size, but one must make do with what one has. Sorry for the lack of recent updates, I have notes from the last week and plenty of photos but I just need to find the time to sort them all out. Let’s just say we’re both still alive. Hooray! Love to all <3
After an initial few days of hect, I’ve now found a few moments to bring you up to speed on my meanderings in the Big Apple.
Flying into JFK airport was an unforgettable experience. Having chased the sun since our departure from Heathrow, we soared into New York airspace as it was setting. Our destination reached, the celestial orb was free to retire from its 8 hours of hot pursuit and disappear over the horizon.
Below, spindly beaches reached into the distance, arms pulling a blanket of darkness over the city. Yet this metropolis was far from ready for bed, the twinkling twilight embers of its monstrous grid fluttering with life.
Thinking it strange for the landscape to appear so flat, I wondered whether we had taken a wrong turn or it was my perspective that fooled me. And then the titanic mass of Manhattan’s familiar skyline loomed, floating on a sea of regimented lights, reminiscent of the opening scene from Blade Runner or a gargantuan theme park.
From the terminal, I made my way on foot through suspicious neighbourhoods and onwards by bus till I arrived wearily at the doorstep of one Miguel Chavez, an Apple consultant living in North Queens. I was cheerily greeted at the door and shown down to my basement lair before being abandoned to the night. It was midnight after all, and I didn’t have to work the next day… That said, I soon flopped into bed and dropped my defences to the ravenous hordes of Dreamland.
My first real day in America! Mein kind host dropped me in Harlem in the morning and I slowly made my way downtown. Looking at my watch, I realised this was the day Tessa and Strat were flying into New York. Finding myself in the neighbourhood, I altered my course for the West 98th Street apartment where they would be holing up, on the off chance of cutting them off at the Kaiber.
After a brief yet intense encounter with Al Wattley, I found the apartment devoid of any Caldecott presence. So I introduced myself to Leslie Garis and we made ourselves comfortable in front of New Pope TV and awaited the arrival of our travel-worn pilgrims.
When the pious pair graced us with their presence, and after they’d recovered from New Popeness, we set out for Central Park in style and abundance to bask in glorious sunlight. We eventually split our efforts and I strolled through the Park to admire Frank Lloyd Wright’s fantastic Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum before hopping back on a bus and joining the gang at casa Kopit for munchings and anecdotes.
It’s a genuine blessing to be welcomed into a family environment when you’re visiting foreign climes, and I had a wonderful time engaging with New York’s intelligentsia. Probably too wonderful as I missed the last connecting bus on the way home and was forced to take a taxi the rest of the way back. I see it as compensation for the excellent value 7 day unlimited Metrocard—a week of unfettered travel on any bus or subway for $24 (about £12.50.)
This was Strat’s last day in New York so we naturally had a mother dose of culture injected into our itinerary. First up, the fantastic Nicholas Roerich Museum, whose walls boast tempera paintings inspired by mythology, religion and some of the most serene spots on Earth. Gorgeous.
We then proceeded to amble down Riverside Drive to our next port of call, the Museum of Natural History. We had limited time before the museum closed but I got the chance to give closer scrutiny to the anthropological and taxidermic wonders on display—I had even less time on my previous visit to New York.
Sufficiently exhausted from trapsing around museums and down streets all day, we confirmed details for our reunion on Saturday and headed our separate ways. I got to Flushing in time for my bus and was even able to get some grocery shopping done. Yay me!
Despite my early return the previous night, bed time was… somewhat delayed. As a result, rousing myself from slumber in the morning proved tricky. I eventually got out of the house just after 1pm and headed back to downtown Manhattan. After a short rest outside the New York Public Library, I headed to the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) where I killed a few hours wandering through swish, newly refurbished galleries of design, architecture, photography, drawings and paintings. I even found some of the pieces I’d seen at the MoMA Qns temporary museum last time around.
Unpeeling myself from Pollocks and Warhols, I headed downtown to the Flatiron building to rendez-vous with my friend Mark Levin. We arranged to meet at the district’s eponymous tower and went for a hot chocolate and a chinwag.
Mark works at Freeverse, a software developer on 23d Street and I’d met him online in the days when I was an active member of the Bungie fan community. Picture a couple of geeks cheerfully lamenting “the good old days” of video games and sharing in jokes that must sound like code to all around.
I soon had to pull myself away, and made my way North up 3rd Avenue to 82nd Street where I was to sup with the Coulier family, French friends of ours from Hong Kong. The evening provided much convivial discussion, flitting seamlessly from English to French and giving me a much need chance to practice my bilinguisticity.
We were joined by Laetitia, another French ex-Hong Konger living in New York who had stayed with the Couliers when she got hit by a car in February. I discovered that she knew my brother Richard through mutual friends in Hong Kong and again I found myself talking about “the old days.” She’s studying Photography at Parsons School of Design so we soon got on to ‘camera-talk.’ I discovered she even owns a view camera. [in best Napoleon Dynamite speech: “Lucky!”]
Not wanting to miss the last 15 bus again, I dismissed myself and hopped back on the Subway. On the way home, I considered what makes travel so exciting; new experiences and the people to put them in context. I’ve been so blessed with the friends who have welcomed me into their homes and given me their own perspectives on this wonderful city—I’ll truly be sad to bid New York and its wonderful inhabitants farewell.
I’ll probably be incommunicado over the weekend but please continue to stay in touch, it’s been such a joy to retain this link with the rest of the world.
Until next time. <3
Humblest apologies for the radio silence. I have found nary a spare moment with which to compose a suitably inclusive update as I’ve been having far too much fun. You probably noticed I uploaded some photos and hopefully they are appeasement enough until a full report is ready and on your desk. Our mystery guest arrives tomorrow—*looks at watch* no wait… today—so that should spice things up a little. That’s not to say things are particularly bland right now though.
Love to you all.
Having been reprimanded by Tessa for still having done nothing about this website, I finally settled down and churned out this monstrosity yesterday. There’s still lots to add and spruce up before it’s ready but at least we now have a home.
Some time last year Ms. Caldecott and Mr. Wheare both realised they were planning independent trips to the USA as a way to pass their copious GAP-year free time and fulfil several dark and forgotten prophecies. Having recovered from the shock that their destinies were thus entwined, the pair decided it would be a jaunty affair to combine their efforts and the master graciously agreed to take on a sidekick as companion on this noble quest–of course they each believed the other was the kick to their side.
After much deliberation and toasted crumpets, an itinerary was transcribed and the great North American tour of MMV was forged in perpetuity on the noble banks of the Evenlode.
The plan currently stands for us to coalesce in New York for a respectable sojourn—there are even murmurings that a mystery guest will briefly swell our ranks in ‘La Grosse Pomme.’ From thence, we repair to Boston, Vancouver, Seattle, San Francisco and Los Angeles for the remainder of our voyage. We’re making sure to burden diverse family and familiars with our presence along the way but suggestions for alternate sources of amusement are welcome.
The basis for this site is to give us a place to keep you all up to date on our travels. We’ll try to write regularly and keep the photo gallery fresh with choice tidbits from far off lands–provided we’re not bested by laziness. Do stay in touch by leaving comments on our updates or else contact us directly.
Tessa sailed into the west this morning with Stratford-upon-Caldecott, and while they live it up in Washington D.C., I’ve been left to man the fort until my own departure next Monday. This gives Mademoiselle enough time to write home with a huge shopping list of things she’s forgotten. I get the feeling I’ll barely have room for my own stuff when it comes to the dreaded packing.
Until then, adieu.