132. LEWES

Lewes, Delaware

7/15/2013

Time to go home. We left Maryland behind, but for a bonus took our first dip into Delaware. (Delaware is so small Patricia says there are only four things worth seeing before we die, so that means we’re already 25% there. Time to update the spreadsheet!) [Time to hurl!]

Lewes is “the first city” in “the first state.” (Delaware was the first state to ratify the US Constitution.) Lewis is therefore filled with colonial buildings, but it’s very much a living place. We stopped at the visitor’s center, where the lady spoke with great pride about how people actually live in Lewes year round – it’s not just a resort town.

We strolled down the canal that juts in from the Atlantic, and stopped for lunch at the Schultz-recommended Gilligan’s, where we could enjoy our last ocean catch while watching the boats glide by.

Afterwards, we took the kids for a quick look at a lightship (basically a lighthouse, but on a ship) and a slightly less quick run around the dock before bustling them into the van to bid a final farewell to the Delmarva Peninsula. [We as in you.  I wanted to get into the car and go home, but NO you wanted to go see the boat.  I took the baby back to the car with me, as she was really hot and uncomfortable, too.  While I was putting her in the car, some young guy who was out running returned to his car, only to find that he was gone too long, and had received a lovely parking ticket.  He started yelling and cursing loudly.  It was most entertaining.  That’s what you get for exercising, dude!!!]

Maryland, you were a worthy foe. But we’ll be back. You won’t defeat me again. [It’s a state, not a fire breathing dragon.]

(P.S. As I write this, we’ve been home for a day. I just put the kids to bed and during her prayers Kathleen spontaneously thanked God for “the horses.” I agree, little girl. I agree.) [It was a good trip, despite all the little things that went wrong.  It’s all about the family having a good time together, and making good memories together, right?  Now I get to do the laundry and unpack.  Oof.]

 

131. ASSATEAGUE ISLAND

Maryland

7/15/2013

We spent the night in Pocomoke City. Fun to say, not to stay in. I put my keycard in the door and opened it up to see another family sitting there, terrified out of their minds that I had just broken into their hotel room. The front desk apologized profusely for the mix-up and sent us to the right room. I told them it would make a good story.

Next morning we drove to the Maryland end of Assateague. Here, I was finally vindicated, but in a most unusual place. A few wild horses had somehow wandered into the ranger station parking lot. Not the most photogenic opportunity, but I didn’t care. Kathleen was beaming with joy. “Horses!” she squealed. The boys seemed astonished. They had begun to doubt me.  “I told you Daddy would show you the horses,” I reminded them, as matter-of-factly as I could. [Really not sure why wild horses would hang out in the parking lot, as they are neither petted nor fed.  Maybe they secretly like people.]

As scenic as the parking lot was, we then drove down to the beach for a picnic. Still lots of fun, but quite different from the Virginia side. Here, the water across to the mainland was so shallow you could walk pretty far out without risk of drowning.

Kathleen was pretty hesitant from her experience last night, but I held her hand and led her down slowly, telling her that Daddy would never let her get hurt or make her do anything she didn’t want to do. Soon, she was splashing around with the best of them.

Much less touristy and crowded than the Chincoteague side – seems like much more of a locals’ secret. We could have spent more time here. Oh, and Daniel found a fossil. Pretty cool. [It was really the best place to stop and feed the baby.  Plus, I didn’t have to worry about the children drowning.  Or Oliver drowning.]

 

130. THE EASTERN SHORE & CHINCOTEAGUE

Chincoteague, Virginia

7/14/2013

Off the southeastern coast of the Delmarva Peninsula, Assateague Island looks like it broke off in a thin slice. Most of the island belongs to Maryland (We’ll go there tomorrow), but a small segment is in Virginia, as well as the bordering (and populated) island of Chincoteague.

Assateague is known for its stunted wild horses that were made famous by a children’s book Misty of Chincoteague and a subsequent 1960s movie. We had never heard of it, but I forced Laura to watch the movie with me before we went. [I wasn’t really paying attention. I’m not much for horse movies.] It did give us a little context on the people of Chincoteague and their relationship to the wild horses next door.

The town itself is a little rundown – 50 years have passed since Misty, so I’m sure tourism is not what it was. We were more interested in the wildlife preserve in Assateague, now connected by a bridge. What was great is that the GPS didn’t recognize the bridge, so I took immature pleasure in watching the little cartoon car drive off the road and into the water. Don’t try this at home.

We did see some of the horses, but they were far away. They really are quite small. I was disappointed we couldn’t get a little closer for the kids. I still hadn’t quite followed through on the horse thing.

[He woke me up (I had the indecency to take a nap right when he needed me to navigate) so I would take his picture. The scamp.]

At the other side of the island was where we had the real fun – our first sight of the Atlantic Ocean. The kids played on the beach for a couple of hours. Kathleen’s first encounter with a wave didn’t go well. It knocked her right over. She was not happy.

She had more fun collecting shells.

The boys had adventures.

Veronica sunbathed.

Everyone had fun.

I pointed out to sea and asked Daniel if he knew what was out there. He said, “I don’t know.” I told him that if he swam and swam and swam and swam for a long time eventually he would reach the place Daddy was born, far, far away. I told him I would take him there some day.

“Ok, Daddy,” he said. “Let’s build a sandcastle now.”

So we did.

 

129. CRISFIELD AND SMITH AND TANGIER ISLANDS

Crisfield and Smith and Tangier Islands, Maryland

7/14/2013

Before you think I’m the worst husband in the world, I was prepared to go home, but Laura said we should push forward, and amazingly, my incredible spreadsheet hadn’t been knocked out of whack too much. [Wait, when did you say that? You must have whispered it.]

With all deliberate speed we set course for Crisfield, the self-proclaimed “seafood capital of the world.” (How many capitals are in Maryland, anyway?) What we found was a working town, with zero tourist trappings. Now, this is what I like. The town is basically a big dock where fishermen do their thing. At least, it would have been if it wasn’t Sunday, but they deserve a day off. They’re not here for our entertainment. There were a few guys moving crates around for some such purpose, though. There really isn’t a lot to do here except be reminded that all that great seafood doesn’t just jump out of the ocean by itself. The people of Crisfield are the ones that go get it. This is a good thing to see.

We couldn’t take the “seafood capital of the world” at face value however, so we dropped into Captain Tyler’s Crab House, which sits right on the water. People in boats can pull right up, hop out, have lunch, and hop back into the water again. The kids had fun waving at the passing boats.

Laura couldn’t leave Maryland without having the real crab experience.

Before…

After…

We topped our meals off with something called Smith Island cake – really thin alternating layers of cream and cake. We thought it was just a cutesy name, but we saw Smith Island cake advertised all over the state, so I’m guessing it’s really a local thing. (We did go out to the islands. Maybe that’s where all the touristy stuff is. If so, we’ll pass.)

A real Maryland crab town. This is the kind of place I like to see.

[I have one word for this place: YUMMY!]

128. TALBOT COUNTY

Talbot County, Maryland

7/13/2013

From what I could guess from the Schultzian description, Talbot County is a bunch of cozy, but slightly posh towns just across the Chesapeake Bay on the western side of the Delmarva Peninsula – the mitten-like blob containing an isolated chunk of Maryland, a spot of Virginia, and all of Delaware… DELaware+MARyland+VirginiA. Get it?

Patricia calls Easton the unofficial “capital of the county”, so we set up base here, but instead of staying in one of Ms. Schultz’s swanky B+Bs, we booked a room at the Days Inn. Classy, huh? We checked in and since it wasn’t too late, decided to do the town right away.

The small town was pleasant to stroll through, especially in the evening cool after the blistering afternoon. Laura checked out the realty office to check out house prices. They didn’t even list them. [I was totally thinking we could get a summer home there. *grin*]

Eventually, we decided to drop into a random restaurant. Well, Laura did. You should see the spreadsheets I make planning these trips. I think they’re pretty amazing. Some of them belong in the Visionary Art Museum. Laura thinks I should chill out a little and be spontaneous sometimes. So… ok… How about this Italian place, Scotta’s? [I don’t know if I would use the word “amazing” but okay,  and they don’t deserve to be in a museum.  Just to be clear, he picked Scotta, not me!]

We were a little worried bringing the little guys in here, but the staff was very accommodating, if nervous. Kathleen picked up her knife, and a passing waitress grabbed it out of her hand. Kathleen was quite indignant. [Actually Kathleen can be quite unpredictable while holding knives, so it was a great idea to take it away from her.]

The waitress came and told us the specials. I asked how much they were. Laura was embarrassed. [Yeah, because he kept SHOUTING it in the quiet restaurant.]  One does not simply walk into a fancy restaurant and ask how much things are. Ok. Be spontaneous. I can do that. I ordered the special – veal with truffles. Yeah. Spontaneous enough? I felt like Frasier Crane ordering that. [I’m not sure how many people will get that reference, dear.]

Uh oh. Something smells bad. No, not the truffles. Kathleen needed a change and we had forgotten the stuff in the van. No problem. We hadn’t parked far, so I brought Kathleen back down the street to the van. It was then I noticed something really weird. Here it was, Saturday night, and this town was completely quiet. Oh, people were walking around, and cars were driving by, but everything was quiet. Then, Kathleen and I needed to cross the street at a crosswalk. Two cars were zooming down the road, one driven by a teenager. We stopped to wait, but something unthinkable happened. The cars stopped for us and waited for us to cross. Even the teenager. What a crazy town.

Finally, success!

We returned to the restaurant and ate our fancy food. While we were there 3 separate people came up to us and told us how well-behaved our kids are. Are they? At another table a 10-year old girl was complaining that she didn’t want to go to Africa because she’d have to get shots. Her father gave in and said they’d only go to South Africa, since they don’t require so many vaccinations.  [I WANT TO GO TO SOUTH AFRICA!!!!]

The bill came. Laura wouldn’t let me see it. That’s probably for the best. [It is for the best.]

Thoroughly full and tired we headed back to the hotel for bed (or cot). Laura woke up early in a great deal of pain. She had been having trouble before the trip (she went to the doctor before we left), but it had become obvious that morning things had gotten worse, not better. So, we got to experience a side of Talbot County Patricia probably never did: the Easton emergency room.

I dropped Laura off and tried to keep the kids happy and alive in the hotel room. The hotel clerk was very accommodating and allowed me to stay with the kids in the room for an extra hour after checkout. She did give me some advice too. “I’ve lived here all my life. Get your wife out of that hospital. They’ll kill her!”

They didn’t kill Laura. In fact, they let her out around noon with a clean bill of health, plenty of pills, and away we went.

[It was actually not a bad experience as most ER experiences go.  It was a small town, and it was how I expected it to be.  I was the only one there at the time, so I did not have to wait long. They got me in, ran the tests, and got me out again, within about 4 hours.  For an ER, that is pretty good timing.  I wouldn’t recommend stopping at ERs while on vacation, but the experience wasn’t that terrible.]
 

127. HISTORIC ST. MARY'S

St. Mary’s, Maryland

7/13/2013

I can’t blame Patricia for this really, but there’s always this one place super out of the way from everywhere else, and I have to go there anyway even though there’s no easy way. It’s not like I could just skip it, right? Right? I always try to hide this from Laura until it’s too late, but she always finds out and yells at me. [Yeah, I just love his “Oh, it’s on the way” or “It’s a little bit off the beaten path but not by much.” Lies. Lies. They are all lies. He does this to me every time.]

Anyway, this time the outlier was St. Mary’s – the site of Maryland’s first colonial settlement and 2 hours from anything else worth seeing before we die. It was a scenic drive anyway, and on the way I got to read some good gas station graffiti. The sign inside said, “Do not write on the walls”, so someone had politely written below, “Ok. No problem.”

Time for a short history lesson if you’re not up on Maryland’s unique colonial history: In the early 1600s, persecution of Catholics began in England in the wake of Henry VIII’s split from the Catholic Church several years earlier. Eventually Catholics weren’t allowed to hold any positions of real power. One of King Charles I’s key advisors – George Calvert – was a Catholic who refused to give up his religion. The king fired him, but granted his family land in the New World as a sort of payment for his years of good service. (Not a bad severance package, if you ask me.) The Calvert family founded Maryland as a safe haven for Catholics, although non-Catholics were also invited. The Toleration Act of Maryland protected religious liberty for all Christian settlers. (This was quite a few years before the more well-known religious protections in Pennsylvania.) Unfortunately, the Toleration Act didn’t last long. Religious conflict continued in England, and the British colonies weren’t spared the effects. The so-called Glorious Revolution secured Protestant William of Orange on the British throne and all pretense of toleration for Catholicism was cast aside. In Maryland, the Calverts were stripped of their power, and the Toleration Act was abolished and replaced by a series of anti-Catholic laws. The capital was moved to Annapolis, St. Mary’s was abandoned, and all signs of Maryland’s Catholic beginnings were essentially erased.[Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz]

Still awake? [Nope.]Ok. We eventually reached “Historic” St. Mary’s – a reconstruction of that abandoned colonial village with costumed people doing colonial things. Well, we saw one guy. (The temperature was in the mid-90s, so I don’t blame most of them from hiding.) For some reason she can’t explain, Laura likes this kind of place, which is kind of weird because she usually hates “fake” stuff. [I can explain it. I still like playing ‘dress-up’.]

We rented a little wagon for Philip and Kathleen to help us get around – not bad for $3.

Daniel navigated.

The costumed guy was really nice. He worked the printing press and did a little presentation for the kids.

The point of pride for Historic St. Mary’s is the recreation of the Dove, one of the 2 ships (along with the Ark) that brought the first Maryland settlers in the 1600s. There were two costumed guys here too, and they took us aboard.

The kids were allowed to “sleep” in the sailor’s bunks.

We had a Laura-designed picnic by the shore to finish out our experience. Very settlerish.

Maybe I’m biased, but it did seem odd to me that the fact Maryland was founded as a Catholic colony was distinctly deemphasized. In fact, the only reference I saw was in a sign explaining that the number of Catholics in Maryland had always been fewer in number than Protestants. This is factually true and no secret (Remember, non-Catholics were encouraged to settle), but certainly Maryland’s intended purpose as a safe harbor for Catholics deserves mention as a piece of colonial history. We went to a Shaker town that doesn’t have any Shakers in it anymore. We heard about Shakers. Not every settler to Massachusetts was a Pilgrim, but I’m sure they get a mention in out there. Why is this different?

It was Saturday night, so we had to get our Catholic on anyway. We went to Mass at the local St. Cecilia’s. (St. Cecilia’s in St. Mary’s… kind of confusing.) It was the smallest church I’ve ever been in, but the priests were awesome. There were three at the service, and they were all clearly very passionate about their congregation, regardless of the size. On the wall hung a faded tapestry depicting those first American Catholics landing not far from this tiny church. History is a fickle thing. [It was a small parish, so we were approached by a nice Catholic family.  The mother asked us if we were new to the parish or just visiting.  Turns out they were homeschoolers.  We had a very nice chat.]